Craig Smith: Monetised outrage and the erosion of local government

Cllr Craig Smith is the Deputy Chairman of the Leicestershire Conservatives Area Executive and a councillor for Coalville North Division on Leicestershire County Council.

As someone who uses social media daily, perhaps more accurately, hourly, for both professional and political purposes, you might argue that I am a fine one to talk.

Social media is now embedded in modern politics. For councillors, MPs and campaigners alike, it has become an essential tool. Used responsibly, it allows elected representatives to communicate directly with residents, explain decisions, counter misinformation, share updates and remain visible between elections. In local government, especially where turnout is low and engagement can be difficult, social media can strengthen accountability and trust.

But it is also a double-edged sword.

One poorly chosen phrase, one comment taken out of context, or one lapse in judgement can spread rapidly and live on indefinitely. Screenshots do not disappear. Nor does the reputational damage that can follow. Any elected representative who uses social media regularly understands that risk.

Yet beyond the danger of accidental missteps, there is a more troubling trend emerging, one that poses a serious challenge to the standards and purpose of public office itself.

Across the political spectrum, a small but growing number of individuals are using social media not to represent, inform or engage, but to provoke. They post deliberately inflammatory content, dismiss serious issues with contempt, or make statements designed to outrage rather than contribute. This behaviour is not spontaneous. It is calculated.

What has changed in recent years is the incentive structure. In the past, such behaviour was often about notoriety, chasing attention, relevance, or the thrill of controversy. Today, it is increasingly about money. Many social media platforms now allow accounts to be monetised. Engagement equals income. Likes, shares, comments and reactions all feed an algorithm that rewards outrage far more generously than nuance. Calm explanation does not travel as far as provocation. Division generates clicks. Anger pays.

For private individuals, this may be distasteful but largely self-contained. For elected officials, it is profoundly corrosive.

Councillors and MPs are not paid to generate engagement. They are paid by the taxpayer to represent communities, to attend meetings, to scrutinise decisions, to work with officers, to handle casework and to solve real problems. Their role is grounded in service, not performance.

Yet when an elected representative becomes more invested in posting daily rage-bait than in carrying out the duties of office, the line between public service and personal profit begins to blur.

This is not about free speech. Elected officials are entitled to hold strong views, express unpopular opinions and challenge orthodoxies. Robust debate is healthy in a democracy. But there is a clear distinction between principled disagreement and deliberately provocative content designed solely to inflame emotions and drive engagement.

The issue becomes even more troubling when those posts target vulnerable groups, trivialise serious matters, or dismiss lived experiences, not as part of a reasoned argument, but as a repeated tactic to provoke reaction. When this behaviour becomes routine, it raises legitimate questions about priorities.

Is the primary focus representation, or revenue?

Local government already faces a crisis of trust. Turnout in local elections remains stubbornly low. Many residents feel disconnected from councils and cynical about politics at a local level. When councillors appear more interested in building personal online brands than in addressing potholes, planning disputes or social care pressures, that cynicism deepens.

Worse still, the accountability mechanisms are weak.

You cannot sack an elected councillor for neglecting their duties in favour of monetised social media activity. Codes of conduct are narrow, slow-moving and often ill-suited to dealing with behaviour that is provocative but technically permissible. Party discipline can be applied only to members of the same party, and even then, it is blunt and politically sensitive.

Until the next election, an elected representative is largely free to continue treating public office as a platform for outrage, regardless of the damage done to public discourse or community cohesion.

This creates a perverse incentive. The most extreme voices receive the most attention. Sensible councillors doing unglamorous but vital work rarely go viral. Meanwhile, those willing to say the most shocking thing possible are rewarded with clicks, followers and, increasingly, cash. The result is a distortion of local political debate. Serious issues are drowned out by provocation. Nuanced policy discussions are replaced by culture-war soundbites. Council chambers become secondary to comment sections.

This is not merely a question of tone. It is about the purpose of public office.

If local government becomes a stepping stone to monetised outrage, rather than a vehicle for service and delivery, it risks losing credibility altogether. Residents rightly expect that the people they elect will focus on local priorities, not on feeding an algorithm.

There is also a wider reputational cost. When a handful of councillors behave this way, it reflects poorly on local government as a whole. The vast majority of councillors, across all parties, work hard, unpaid or modestly paid, juggling employment, family life and public service. Their efforts are undermined when public perception is shaped by the loudest and most extreme voices.

Conservatives, in particular, should be concerned about this trend.

Local government has long been one of the party’s strengths: practical problem-solving, fiscal responsibility, community leadership. That tradition is incompatible with treating public office as a side hustle built on outrage.

If we believe in responsibility, service and accountability, then we must be willing to call out behaviour that corrodes those values, even when it is technically permissible, legally protected or politically inconvenient.

None of this requires new laws or heavy-handed regulation. But it does require a cultural shift. Parties, associations and local leaders need to be clearer about expectations. Voters need to ask harder questions about what their representatives actually do between elections. And elected officials themselves need to reflect on whether their online conduct serves their community or merely themselves.

Social media is here to stay. Used well, it can strengthen democracy. Used cynically, it can cheapen it.

Public office should never be reduced to a revenue stream fuelled by division. Those elected to serve should remember a simple truth: their salary comes from the public purse, and their mandate comes from the people they represent, not from an algorithm that rewards outrage.