Social media is portrayed as a place where people can speak their ‘truth’ – but too much sharing makes me uncomfortable

Social media is accused of being awash with myths, fake news and postings, which (on the face of it) might seem like good advice but turn out to be paid endorsements. From Gwyneth Paltrow’s body butter to weight-loss products, it can be hard to know what to believe.

Choosing the best place to study is one of the most important decisions you will ever make, so where do you turn for advice? With the coronavirus pandemic drastically depleting the number of foreign students entering the UK, an increasing number of universities are using social media in an effort to recoup the lost revenue.  

This week, it emerged that dozens of "influencers" have been plugging courses for places they’d never attended. Mari Alonso blithely told her 82,000 Instagram followers she had graduated as an engineer, and went on to promote Anglia Ruskin University in Cambridge as a “way to change your life” – even though she obtained her qualifications in Brazil.  

Anglia Ruskin – which offers degrees in criminology (as well as philosophy and sports sciences) – has spent £1.19m on social media and marketing in the last year, paying a dozen influencers to promote the university, none of whom have studied there. Hull University paid Ambar Driscoll (a model with more than 250,000 followers on Instagram) to promote its courses, even though she attended university in Exeter.

The Competition and Marketing Authority (CMA) and the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) have guidelines designed to ensure that paid promotions online are clearly marked ‘ad’. But is that enough? The universities say that they are promoting a lifestyle, and that it doesn’t matter where the influencers studied – but some followers might be tempted to follow where these lifestyle gurus dictate, in the hope of enlarging their social circle and having a more glamorous life.

If online advertorials are a grey area where it can be hard to separate impartial judgements from paid PR, social media is also being used to explore the most intimate areas of personal life. Is this where online “truth” lies? For many celebrities, there is no boundary between their public and private lives. They believe that “sharing” is a force for good, that it helps others and is healthy and healing.

The television presenter and model Chrissy Teigen has been praised for her no-nonsense postings about life as a working mother. She’s showed 30 million Instagram followers her baby son Miles wearing a head-shaping helmet, and shared pictures of herself breastfeeding daughter Luna.  

There are few, if any no-go areas in Teigen’s glamorous life in Los Angeles, being married to Grammy-winning singer John Legend. Earlier this year, she announced she was having surgery to remove breast implants that she’d had from the age of 20, when she was a successful swimwear model, posting: "I’m getting my boobs out. They’ve been great to me for many years but I’m just so over it". 

The couple’s frank approach to every aspect of married life has earned them praise from some, but criticism from others. The complainer-in-chief Donald Trump has gone as far as calling Teigen – a prominent anti-Trump advocate – “filthy-mouthed” and describing her husband as “boring”.  

In August, the couple announced they were expecting their third child, and Teigen has chronicled every aspect of her pregnancy, even detailing when she was passing blood clots. This week, it ended tragically when she was rushed to hospital, undergoing two transfusions before losing the baby the couple had named Jack. She posted a series of black-and-white pictures on Instagram, showing her sitting on the edge of the bed in tears and the couple hugging the tiny baby. Later, her mother Vilailuck posted a video of herself crying while she kissed the baby.

These images are unflinching and raw and yet a small number of people complained that Teigen had found “time to pose”. Twitter accounts which made allegations that somehow the couple carried blame for the miscarriage were closed down. The couple used Instagram to post a long statement sharing their grief. "We are shocked and in the kind of deep pain you only hear about, the kind of pain we have never felt before," they said. There has been widespread praise for shining a light on a tragedy which affects one in four women, many of whom blame themselves when miscarriages are almost always nobody’s fault.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and the decision of such a high-profile woman to detail her miscarriage has been widely welcomed. But others might find it hard to understand why, as you experienced something so awful, you felt compelled to tell millions of people you’ve never met all about it. 

Perhaps it’s a generational issue. ITV’s Loose Women discussed this on Thursday, and the presenters expressed sympathy for the couple. But when Carol McGiffin said that sharing the images made her feel “uncomfortable” and “I felt like I was intruding”, she attracted huge criticism. Is one allowed to express doubts, or does that make Carol (according to one critic) a ”bloody old harpy"? Another said, “Silence is better.”

Losing a child is devastating. A long time ago, my 11-year-old stepson died from stomach cancer, and his father went into a deep depression from which he never really recovered. This was long before social media, and I never wrote about what had happened, or shared it outside a few friends. To see a child diagnosed with terminal cancer and then see him die within two weeks was an experience that will remain with me for the rest of my life.  

My former husband’s grief would not have been diminished if he had shared it on Instagram. I can see exactly why Chrissy Teigen exercised her right to share those pictures of her dead baby, even though (like Carol McGiffin) I find it very hard to look at them.

Amid all the piffle and pretentiousness on Instagram, they are a beacon of hope for other women who have lost a child. They shout out: “We’re all in this together.”