“These are my principles. If you don’t like them, I have others.”
Attributed to Groucho Marx, this phrase, loaded with cynical humor, remains strikingly relevant.
We all claim to have principles. Some of us even consider them firm, well-reasoned, non-negotiable. But then comes that moment when we are faced with a product offering strong functionality, operating under a network-effect model—where value grows with each new user—and, for that very reason, it becomes a quasi-monopoly. And that’s where some of those principles start to blur.
The track record of big platforms
We are well aware of the track record of companies like Meta. This is not about perceptions but about documented facts: broken privacy promises, public commitments later rewritten (“there will be no ads on WhatsApp,” “data won’t be shared across platforms”), initiatives such as internet.org dressed up in a thin layer of philanthropy but ultimately aimed only at growth, and labor scandals that exposed how daily exposure to extreme content was outsourced without proper safety measures.
We know all this, and yet we remain anchored to a product with powerful features designed to trigger our dopamine.
The digital ecosystem and user segmentation
We stay inside the ecosystem, segmented by age, habits, or usage codes. Facebook for some, Instagram for others, WhatsApp for everyone. But the point is not the segmentation itself—it’s why we stay. Because the ecosystem, beyond its darker sides, delivers what we seek. To share, to connect, to visualize, while also indulging a bit of hedonism. It gives us all that, and it does so through an experience that keeps improving.
Continuous evolution as a retention mechanism
Like any well-designed digital product, it is built in development cycles that, with varying degrees of success, keep adding new functionalities in constant sprints of value delivery. Every so often, there’s something new: a format, an integration, an algorithmic layer, a usability tweak. And with each iteration, the ecosystem becomes a little harder to leave. Network effects and captivity go hand in hand.
What is the network effect?
It’s a phenomenon in which the value of a platform or service increases as more people use it. In social networks, this means that every new user contributes more content, more potential connections, more interaction—making the network more attractive for everyone.
How does it play out in social networks?
- Direct interaction: The more people, the more chances we have to connect, share, and consume relevant content.
- Growth cycle: More users → more content → more value → more users. A self-reinforcing loop.
- Exit barriers: With so many connections and so much personalized content, leaving becomes increasingly difficult.
- Standard effect: The network becomes “the norm,” as happened with WhatsApp or Instagram.
Types of network effects
- Direct: Value comes from direct interaction between users (like TikTok or LinkedIn).
- Indirect: More users attract complementary services (like Amazon or Airbnb).
“The network effect in Spotify could also be seen as indirect, since it doesn’t rely as much on direct user-to-user interaction, but rather on how a growing user base improves the experience for everyone. More users → more data → better recommendations. More artists → more content → more value. Collaborative playlists, social sharing, and external integrations (Instagram being one of the most popular).”
When we stay on a social network simply because “everyone is there,” the network effect is being injected straight into our veins.
Welcome to the dark side
Maintaining a critical stance toward these platforms while still benefiting from their inertia, their tools, and above all their ubiquity, can lead to uncomfortable—or at the very least inconsistent—situations. Leaving doesn’t just mean quitting an app: it means breaking communication flows, altering social dynamics, and, in many cases, losing professional visibility or relevance in specific contexts.
The conscious user’s paradox and the ethical dilemma
We know these practices are wrong, but the perceived cost of leaving the network often feels too high, stalling any attempt at exit. This is the true strength of the network effect: not only does it fuel the platforms’ growth, it also makes them virtually irreplaceable, creating a dependency that goes far beyond mere product preference.
Network effects and decision-making analysis
The “network effect,” once it evolves into market dominance, can become a subtle tool of coercion. The following table provides a summary of the considerations:
“Users may find themselves trapped between their ethical principles (which they consciously or unconsciously set aside) and the practical reality of digital connectivity—creating a scenario where companies can operate with relative impunity.”
A dynamic that requires equal measures of external regulation and collective critical awareness to counteract.
That’s why, even if certain corporate behaviors make us uncomfortable, even if we raise an eyebrow at every new contradiction, we remain. Because what the ecosystem delivers—in terms of functionality, convenience, and immediate gratification—still outweighs the perceived cost of leaving.
And in the meantime, Meta keeps going: integrating, tweaking, rolling out new features, closing the circle. Fully aware that our principles matter—just not as much as the benefits we seek. Especially when they’re served up, so neatly packaged, right in the palm of our hand.
