On Twitter's End

A Moment of Truth for American Business

Most people who know me, know that I have a rather ubiquitous presence on Twitter. I joined in 2013 in the effort to increase the visibility of the national civil rights organization. By 2014, after the Ferguson uprising, I saw the power of this medium to connect me directly with people in communities all over this country, and to share the powerful work of civil rights.

I realized that I could hear voices too often unheard and to use my brand and growing following to amplify those voices; to provide historical context for painful, challenging moments that resonated powerfully with our long struggle for civil rights; to correct inaccuracies and lazy, stereotypical presentations of issues facing the Black community, particularly in the context of civil rights law; and to offer strategy, and even a sense of hope and encouragement in the fight for racial justice and equality. I used this platform to challenge my own profession, and to discuss our blind spots, failures and successes. Most of all, I learned on Twitter.

And I was able to see how Twitter was shaping the national discourse — from police violence to #MeToo; how we were compelling a part of America to see our country as they never had; and how this platform was a unique place of democratic engagement, with all its flaws and difficuly.

And there was something else. Contrary to Musk’s claims, Twitter was the site where the traditional mores of mainstream media were challenged. Videos of police killing unarmed Black people were not unearthed by traditional journalists, but by citizens - Black citizens - determined to compel the world to see the reality we have lived with all our lives.

Critiques of Sunday morning new shows, of headlines that skew the news, of the failure to dig deep was a huge part of Twitter discussion. Journalists who now use the word “lie” to describe Trump’s dangerous fabulations, and who have learned to dropped euphemisms like “racially tinged” in favor of “racism,” do so because of the clarity of those on Twitter who exposed the cowardice and consequences of these feints.

And the ability to post data and analysis that challenges inaccurate reporting about bail reform, voter suppression, COVID, economic policy, film and women’s soccer, by the people who work in those fields, democratized “expertise” in powerful ways. In sum, a critical function of Twitter has been to expose our democracy’s need for a more honest and forthright journalism that confronts hard truths.

It was no surprise that Elon Musk’s ownership of Twitter would lead to its demise. And if we needed any convincing, his conduct in the months before the deal was finalized, made the likelihood that he would break the site seem inevitable. And so I remained focused on the Twitter Board which would have to approve Musk’s initial offer. When Musk realized that his penchant for bluster had gotten him out over his skis and he tried to renege on his original offer, I hoped that the board would take the opportunity to avoid the cliff. But they didn’t. Perhaps, I thought, banks and other investors would be reluctant to partner with Musk to do the deal. They weren’t.

American for-profit corporations are driven by the oft-stated commitment to “maximize shareholder profits.” But as Univ of Pennsylvania Law Professor Lisa Fairfax has written, this is not an obligation driven by state laws of incorporation, or by federal law. “Maximization” is how American business has chosen to interpret its profit responsibilities. Of course board members should ensure that a company is profitable to shareholders. But “maximization,” is an entirely different goal that demands very particular kinds of corporate conduct.

In one chapter of my forthcoming book about the urgent need to confront the truth about race and the crisis of American democracy, (“Is This America?” Penguin Press) I take some time to talk about what I believe must be the “citizenship” responsibilities of corporations, if our democracy is not only to survive but to become healthy. I argue that these responsibilities should be heightened in times of democratic crisis.

One area I explore is the need to expand the meaning of the fiduciary obligations of corporate boards. The Twitter deal provides an important case study of the perils of how corporate America’s narrow definition of what it means to exercise “fiduciary” responsibility. As many before me have suggested, corporations in a healthy democracy should have obligations to stakeholders as well as shareholders. But I go even further and ask: do corporations have any obligation to our democracy itself? I tried to make the case for it at a recent conference at Harvard. You can view a brief excerpt of the discussion here.

HLS Center on the Legal Profession @HLS_CLP

What is the role of corporate America in upholding democracy? @SIfill_ joined us at the #HarvardESG conf in September, along with @FredKrupp and @DevalPatrick. Watch the entire conference, "Reimagining the Role of Business in the Public Square," on YouTube.

Musk’s desire for Twitter should have had democratic “fiduciary” alarm bells ringing. He had shown himself to be erratic and willful. His tremendous generosity in providing StarLink to the Ukraine military in the early days of their defense against Russian aggression, was followed by ill-advised and inappropriate public musings about how to end the Russian war against Ukraine. When Ukraine objected to his comments, he threatened to stop paying for the satellites. He then reversed himself again and said he would pay for them. He mused on Twitter about Taiwan being “administered” by China (where he sells lots of Tesla cars). He posted comments and memes that demostrated immaturity and recklessness. He made clear his intention to return those who spreads of dangerous and toxic hate speech to the platform. One of his other major companies, Tesla, is the subject of class action suit and an investigation by the state of Calfornia of credible claims of the ugliest kinds of racial discrimination.

None of this seemed to matter. The deal was slated to provide a huge financial benefit to shareholders. To the employees? Not so much. To our democracy, which has lost one of the few integrated places of democratic interaction and exchange? Not at all. Instead with a giggle and meme, and with the kind of undisciplined, chaotic and arrogant rollercoaster leadership with which Trump brought our country to the brink, we have watched in just a fortnite the dismantling of Twitter.

The trolls and the hate speech that made Twitter unbearable for so many in its earlier days has returned. Die-hard Tweeters (including me) have signed up on other platforms, seeing the end of Twitter ahead. Thousands of employees have been fired, some summarily. The site is now less secure (many believe), with the teams that handled misinformation and verification either laid off or resigning. On Thursday this week, Musk finally used the “b” word - bankruptcy - to suggest what might be the future of the company.

If America is to finally create a healthy democracy, the business community will have to re-examine and, I contend, redefine what it means to be a fiduciary. The Supreme Court in 1886 allowed that corporations are persons for purposes of the 14th amendment, enabling corporations to benefit from a constitituional amendment designed to ensure the full citizenship of Black people after the Civil War. In cases like Citizens United, corporations have used this power to sue for the protections of the First Amendment.

But if corporations are true citizens entitled to the protections of our democracy, don’t they have obligations to the health of the democracy itself?

The demise of Twitter is a cautionary tale that the business community had best heed. And it starts with the business community taking an unsparing and honest account of its responsibilities, at this moment in our democracy, to more than just the “bottom line.”

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