A brief history of the block button

Let that Block sink in!

One of humanity's most important inventions in the digital age is the block button on social media. Its meaning has always been simple and clear: when I block you, I want you completely out of my life. You don’t exist. Go away! You can’t read what I write, or comment on my posts, or interact with me in any way anymore.

Facebook made the block button idiot-proof (as they do with most things in their ecosystem). When I block you, it’s mutual: you don’t see me, and I don’t see you. There’s no extra step to take—blocking is absolute and immediate. However, this does create a small power imbalance. The blockers hold all the cards. If they decide to unblock you, they regain the ability to see your posts, comments, and so on, while you’re left in the dark.

Twitter, on the other hand, approached the block button with a bit more nuance (after all, it was once a platform for smarter users than Facebook, sadly not anymore).

Blocking on Twitter was unidirectional: you could block someone from seeing your posts, but you could still view theirs. If the person you blocked wanted to “even the playing field,” they had to block you in return. In this way, Twitter addressed the one-sided power dynamic of Facebook's block feature by giving both parties a say in the matter.

And just when we thought there was nothing left to add to this small but essential tool of our times and our lives, along came Elon Musk—sink in hand—to reinvent the block button on X (formerly Twitter).

Before Musk’s intervention, blocking meant “you can’t see what I write anymore.”

Now, blocking on X has evolved. It means, “you can read what I write and admire my wit and wisdom from afar, but you can’t interact with me. No more stupid, off-topic comments. Keep that hate to yourself.” This new block feature keeps the same philosophy of dividing power between both parties: if I block you, you can still block me back to prevent me from regaining access to your humble, poor, uninteresting content.

Substack has embraced a similar Weltanschauung (pardon my French). When I block a lowlife, he loses the ability to interact with me, but he can still access my posts and ideas on my public page.

It’s a subtle but meaningful shift in how the humanity approaches now blocking.

So, to all the former—and future—blocked ones out there: I salute you!