Social Contagion and Secret Passwords: Please, Let Me In

Social Contagion and Secret Passwords

Depending on your date of birth, you've once heard that Marilyn Manson removed one of his ribs to do that thing we all couldn’t believe. You knew exactly how many years bubble gum would remain locked inside your intestines if you were to accidentally swallow a piece. But how is it that ideas can spread across social groups and take hold so efficiently, even before the internet?

The answer: Social contagion and secret passwords.

Social contagion can be found everywhere across any time. It’s like secret passwords whispered to bouncers to gain entry to secret clubs(read: communities).

And we’re watching this phenomenon unfold in real time right now.

“Six Seven”: An Illustration of the Power of Community

Over the last few weeks, our social circles have been invaded with the weighted phrase: “six seven”, despite the user needing to have any knowledge of its origin. But “six seven” shape shifts. It has always existed. It will disappear. And it will re-emerge - endlessly.

“Six seven” has always existed and will always exist:

• Planking

• “Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?”

• Y2K

• 69

• Smirnoff Ice chugging

• The game of holding your hand in the “OK” symbol below your waist.

• Skibidi toilet

They mean nothing and they mean everything, depending on your club membership details and which secret passwords you know.

But regardless of your stance or stamp of approval, the call is always coming from inside the house.

We are the ones that give social contagion power, because we crave community at our core.

It all comes back to the system of language and social contracts. Just like we’ve agreed to let the flapping sounds radiating from our moving lips and tongues to mean something, we’ve agreed to give rise to every social contagion that’s ever caught fire, big or small.

Social contagion catches fire in smaller networks unknown by mainstream social groups. It’s why “Slappy Drafters” might mean something to one reader and absolutely nothing to another. And the more tight knit the community (the less people who have access to the secret passwords), the more we like to call them “inside jokes”.

Social contagion are the secret passwords, whether we like it or not. And regardless of the passwords you hold, everyone wants membership into the club.

Yes, even the act of refusal is a bid for entry.

Club Membership: Please, Let Me In.

Language is a tool. And if we extend it further, memes and viral ideas are social tools, in their own right.

They might serve different functions. They might be expressed via different mediums (.jpeg, gesture, etc.). They might be guided by different parameters known only to certain community members. And they might not be used for communicating needs like oral language. But social contagion are tools for communicating identity and membership.

Are you in or are you out?

The answer doesn’t matter, as both sides have social participation. Whichever stance you take on a viral meme or cultural phenomenon, you’re claiming your relationship to the idea and taking a stance with others. You’re waving your metaphorical Costco membership card in the air, proving your right to be let in.

It always comes back to these shared relationships and shared understandings with one another. Even if the shared understanding is that you don’t understand “six seven”. There is a bond in that. You are waving your card/yelling your secret passwords and begging to be understood by the other community members who also identify as “just not getting it”.

Everyone wants some form of club membership. We say our secret passwords and hope they’ll grant us access through the door.

But the bouncers still exist. We aren’t always allowed membership to the clubs that we walk up to. It’s why my kid rolls her eyes in disgust if I utter “six seven”, even as I’m merely counting from 1-10.

The social contract has been agreed upon by the “six seven” community. And it says that I’m not allowed past the door.

And that’s okay, because there is still a club (read: community) for me. There are others who have been refused access from the “six seven” bouncer. Others who understand how it feels to be kicked from the club or who have never even seen what lies behind the door.

So are you in or are you out?

The answer doesn’t matter. Both sides have social participation. Both sides have community. As humans, we just want to be let in.

The Lesson Beyond The Memes

So what happens when society as a whole or its complex social networks have inadvertently told someone that there is no club membership with their name on the list? What happens when someone feels like they won’t ever come to know the passwords?

Everyone wants some form of club membership. When our experiences have falsely convinced us that there is no secret password for our lips, we resort to walking the streets alone. We find ourselves peeking into the windows of clubs with bitterness.

And maybe that’s the reminder we all need, buried deep beneath the “six sevens” of it all: Never let someone walk the streets alone. Show them a door. Invite them in. Share the fucking passwords.

And smile when the next iteration of a viral, idiotic meme takes hold. Be happy for your child who has access into the “social contagion club” and be happy for those who have access into the side that “just doesn’t get it”.

Because at least they have access.

At least they’ve found their way in.

My ear holes have been busy lately.

Here are some recs if you’re into that sort of thing.

• Watermelon - John + Jane Q.

• Ego Death At A Bachelorette Party - Hayley Williams. [entire album]

• Cobras - Geese. [entire album] Thank you, Pete.

• It’s Called: Freefall - Rainbow Kitten Surprise.

• Thirst Trap - Audrey Hobert. Saxophone hits so good. Pop genre, fwiw. [entire album]

• Man I Need - Olivia Dean [entire album]

Share the passwords.
-until next time. CD