Why do we lurk so much online?

Why do we lurk online so much?

As I’m writing this, I just got off the phone with a journalist from the MailOnline who wanted to discuss Facebook’s recent changes to their algorithm and get a comment from me on my opinion of the new changes.

If you haven’t heard about these changes yet, what they mean is that we’ll be seeing more updates from friends and family in our newsfeeds, and fewer updates that Facebook believes might damage our “well-being” (meaning by that, anything that isn’t personal). Which, let’s face it, that’s utter BS and clearly, just a way for Facebook to make more money from pushing businesses/causes to pay for more ads in order to be seen.

Why do we lurk online so much?

I love stats and seeing how everything performs, from my website, my emails and my social media updates.  I’ll be the first to admit my FB updates don’t generate anywhere near as much engagement than on other networks or on my own site.

However, I keep plugging away due to the fact that I post updates on things that matter to me (like anti-bullying, homelessness, the environment, Holocaust as well as business related).  And even though they may not get likes/comments they get some reach.  But they could get seen by more people if people simply liked the update; just that small action can make a big difference.  It’s pathetic and it’s not about wanting to be liked or being popular, it’s more about playing Facebook’s ridiculous game of the more people that like something the more Facebook will show it to others in your network.

Whilst it’s lovely that people like my posts when I post a picture of my daughter or a cute dog, it’s sad to see that when I post something to help drive awareness about something (be it a good cause or my own business), like my recent update on holocaust survivors helping beat bullying around the world, which is something that I deeply care about and want to help spread awareness about, it barely gets any likes.  Why is that?

Why do we lurk so much on social media? What makes someone scroll through their Facebook feed every day and like some updates and take no action on others?

And look, I’m not saying people should like everything they see in their newsfeed, even if they don’t actually like it. But if you do like an update, why not show your support? It takes less than a second to click that button and as I said earlier, it can help the initial poster a lot. Not to mention, it helps beat Facebook a bit at their own game. Not much, but enough to feel like we’re not completely powerless.

Facebook is making it harder and harder for causes and small businesses to see your updates without having to “pay to play”.  So next time you see a charity or a friends business update, why not simply like (or a different emoji) to help it get seen by more people?  It doesn’t cost anything and takes less than a second.  And can make a huge difference.

What I Noticed When I Tracked My Own Lurking for 30 Days

A couple of years ago I decided to record every instance of online lurking I caught myself doing over a single month. I kept a simple notes document on my phone and logged the platform, the time of day, and what stopped me from commenting or posting. By the end of the 30 days I had 214 separate entries. That number startled me, because I talk about social media for a living. If I was lurking that compulsively, what does the average person's tally look like?

The pattern that stood out most was what I started calling the "draft and delete" moment. In 67 of those 214 instances, I had started typing a response, then erased it before posting. The reason was almost never that I had nothing to say. It was one of three things: I thought someone else had already said it better, I was not sure the comment would land well with an audience I could not fully read, or I simply did not want the notification ping anxiety that follows once you put something out there. That third reason was the most honest one and also the one I had never seen discussed in any article about online behaviour before I started looking.

What the data from my own log suggested is that lurking is not passive in the way we assume. It is often a very active, exhausting decision loop. You read, you form a response, you weigh it, you abandon it. That cognitive cost is real. Researchers at the University of Queensland have described this in terms of "belonging uncertainty," where people feel present in a community but unsure whether their specific voice belongs there. My log backed that up. I lurked most heavily in groups where I respected the other members most, not in spaces where I felt indifferent.

• 73% of my lurking happened between 9pm and midnight, when my editorial judgement was lower and my fear of a poor response was higher.
• LinkedIn produced the most draft-and-delete moments, by a wide margin over Twitter, Facebook groups, and Reddit combined.
• The posts I lurked on longest without engaging were not controversial ones but deeply personal stories where I did not know whether a comment would feel supportive or intrusive to the writer.
• On days when I had already posted something that received a cold response, my lurking rate roughly doubled for the following 48 hours.

The practical upshot, if you are trying to build a community rather than just grow a following, is that your quietest members are not disengaged. They are often your most attentive and emotionally invested audience. The instinct is to chase comments and shares as proof of resonance, but the lurker who reads every single one of your posts and never says a word may be more loyal than the person who drops a fire emoji once a week. When I started sending occasional direct, low-pressure prompts to people who consistently opened my newsletters but never replied, the response rate surprised me. Several of them became paying clients. They had been watching carefully for a long time. They just needed an invitation that felt safe rather than performative.

Lurking is, at its core, a self-protection strategy. It costs you nothing and risks nothing. The platforms are designed so that watching is always the path of least resistance. Understanding that should change how you create content, how you welcome newcomers, and how you measure whether what you are putting out matters to real people.

The short version: Most people online consume far more than they create, silently watching communities, threads, and feeds without ever posting a word. Lurking is not laziness or antisocial behavior; it is a rational response to the social risks of visibility, the fear of judgment, and the sheer comfort of absorbing information without the pressure of performance. Understanding why we lurk helps us design better communities and rethink what "participation" really means.

Frequently asked questions

What exactly counts as lurking online?

Lurking means consuming online content, such as reading forum threads, scrolling social feeds, or watching community discussions, without posting, commenting, or reacting. You are present but invisible to everyone else in the space.

Why do so many people choose to lurk rather than post?

The most common reasons include fear of public criticism, uncertainty about whether a contribution is "good enough," a preference for learning before speaking, and the simple fact that reading already satisfies the need for information or entertainment without the social stakes that come with posting.

Is lurking bad for online communities?

Not necessarily. Lurkers make up the vast majority of most online audiences, and their quiet presence keeps content creators motivated, inflates traffic that sustains platforms, and means that good ideas spread further than visible engagement numbers suggest.

Can platforms reduce lurking?

Yes, but only when they lower the cost of low-stakes participation, think reaction buttons, anonymous questions, or one-click polls, so people can engage without the vulnerability of a fully visible public comment. Pressure tactics and shame rarely work and often backfire.