The Jury of the Internet: How Social Media Has Been Inundated with Opinions

When season 7 of Peacock’s Love Island USA aired this summer it was more than just another lineup of flirtations in Fiji. It became a courtroom of social media verdicts. Islander names like Olandria Carthen, Huda Mustafa, and Chelley Bissainthe turned overnight from reality contestants into proxies in a fan-fuelled war zone where judgments were immediate, harsh, and deeply collective.

The rise of the internet jury

Social media gives audiences unprecedented access not only to the show but to each other’s reactions. Platforms like Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram create a 24/7 commentary loop where no moment goes unnoticed. On one side, this makes reality TV richer and more interactive. Fans build communities, make memes, and analyse dynamics with a level of detail that even producers could not have predicted.

On the other, it also means every action becomes evidence for or against an islander’s character. Huda was branded an “emotional abuser” within hours of a heated argument airing, while Chelley and Olandria were cast as “mean girls.” Some viewers even diagnosed Huda with borderline personality disorder and speculated about her parenting. The issue is not disagreement itself but the speed with which speculation hardens into public consensus, especially when diagnoses and accusations move far beyond what anyone could responsibly claim.

The parasocial bind

Part of why reactions feel so strong is that audiences are not just watching, they are bonding. Psychologists describe parasocial relationships as one-sided attachments that feel emotionally real. In the case of Love Island, the editing packages and constant access to contestants’ social media make it feel like viewers know these people intimately. That intimacy blurs the line between entertainment and personal investment. When an islander like Olandria rolls her eyes, it is not just TV, it feels personal to those who have attached themselves to her or to her rivals. Fans defend their favourites as if they are close friends or family, which explains why criticism is often met with outrage rather than curiosity.

The contradiction of discourse

At first I watched Love Island for what it was meant to be: a guilty-pleasure dating show. But every scroll through Twitter Spaces or TikTok edits felt like wading through emotional landmines. Yet there is more to it than hostility. The same platforms that fuel conflict also create connection. Fans who may never meet in real life share long threads analysing body language, swap stories about dating and friendship, and even reflect on their own experiences through the lens of the show.

More opinions, more access

The sheer scale of commentary

is new. Viewers once had to wait for tabloids or reunion episodes to hear reactions. Now, opinion is instant, global, and algorithm-driven. Every clip becomes a point of debate, magnified by people who may not even watch the show but join in because the discourse itself is entertaining. This level of access is double-edged: it democratises conversation but also makes it harder to separate informed critique from projection.

Seeing the full picture

It is tempting to frame the Olandria, Huda, and Chelley debates as toxic divides. But looking closer, what emerges is a reflection of how people connect to culture in 2025. Fans project their values, fears, and hopes onto contestants, using them as mirrors for broader conversations about race, gender, and relationships. Islanders themselves are not just passive subjects, they respond, defend, and push back, which makes the feedback loop even tighter. What might seem like contradiction is really the friction of multiple truths colliding in public.

I try no longer engage with every argument the way I once did, but I see why others do. The jury of the internet is messy, sometimes reckless, but also revealing. It shows us not only how we judge reality stars but also how we understand ourselves and each other in a world where opinions are constant, amplified, and impossible to avoid.

Written by Vanessa Twerefou