Leaving X: My Honest Reasons

This is a transcript of my video of the same title.

Last night, I deleted my Twitter/X account, which had 64,000 followers. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time — perhaps two or three years.

The main reason I hadn’t done it sooner was the sense of obligation I felt toward my audience. Dozens, possibly hundreds, of people are on Twitter almost exclusively to follow me. Some even created their accounts just to see my content. For a long time, I told myself I had a duty to keep posting for them.

But then I realised I was looking at it the wrong way around. If those people are there because of me, then the best thing I can do for them is lead by example: leave the platform and hopefully inspire them to do the same.

Elon Musk looking suitably pensive.

Why am I leaving?

I’ve come to the conclusion that there is almost nothing positive about Twitter — or X — even under Elon Musk. You could argue it’s become worse: more botted, more of a cesspit. But let’s be honest: Twitter was never good. It plays to the worst aspects of human nature. It’s addictive. It fuels outrage cycles and dopamine loops. Deep down, everyone who spends any significant time on it knows it’s not good for them.

We generate endless copes to justify staying. If you have a reasonably sized account (64,000 followers is decent, though not massive), you tell yourself ‘my people need me.’ But that’s mostly an egotistical defence mechanism to justify an addictive and destructive habit.

The truth is, almost nothing of real importance happens on Twitter. If you weren’t on it, you wouldn’t be missing anything meaningful.

To test this, I stopped engaging with political content on 14^th April and switched my account to pure nostalgia and posting pictures of cottages, squirrels, and pleasant things. I didn’t miss a thing. My YouTube content remained completely unaffected. That experiment confirmed it for me.

Even when posting harmless, positive content, Twitter still has an inherently negative pull. There’s something dark and downward-dragging about the platform. No matter what you post — even a nice photo of a squirrel — the replies and general atmosphere feel like hands reaching up from below, trying to pull you down. It’s like a black hole of negativity. Tucker Carlson would say it is demonic.

I don’t want to pull people down. I want to lift them up. So, if my presence on Twitter encourages others to stay and feed their addiction, am I really doing them a service by remaining? Or is the responsible thing to say: ‘I’m going first. You can join me if you want.’

A Personal Experiment

Recently, I’ve been practising what some call ‘concentrated nourishment’: simply being fully present while eating, focusing on every bite. During this practice, I realised just how often my mind was drifting to Twitter. That constant pull had to go.

I was also fully monetised on the platform, earning a few hundred pounds every couple of weeks. But that money isn’t worth it. I can make it elsewhere.

The Business Excuse

People often say, ‘As a business owner, you need to be on Twitter.’ But do you really?

Most genuinely successful people aren’t active on it. Tony Blair never had an account. Many A-list celebrities stay away or have managers handle their social media. Elon Musk himself spent billions on his own addiction to the site.

Twitter drains your attention, productivity, focus, and presence. It constantly feeds you negativity and outrage. Why would you choose that?

Politically, some argue it’s necessary to be there. But, again, the most powerful people aren’t wasting their time on it. I also believe that since Elon took over, the amount of bot accounts and paid engagement has made it even less trustworthy. I know my own following is real and organic. Many others cannot say the same.

The Bottom Line

After ten years on the platform, I can honestly say Twitter has never served me well. It’s been a useless waste of time.

I’ve had an excellent six weeks since stepping back from political posting on 14^th April, one of my best periods financially and creatively. That data point is clear: Twitter is neither here nor there for my business.

Beyond the personal cost, I also see Twitter as a control grid. It allows those in power to map networks, monitor discourse, and keep people distracted in what my friend Scrump has called ‘the based ball pit.’

For all these reasons, I’ve made my decision. I’m not coming back. 64,000 followers is a decent number to walk away on — and a reminder that I could have done better with my time.

If even five people leave because I did, I will have brought more good into the world. To everyone reading: get off Twitter. It’s a waste of your life. Most of the people who watch my YouTube channel have never been on it and have always wondered why I was. Once you step out, you realise how small and toxic that world really is.