Illusion of Digital Heroism: Have We Replaced Allah’s Will with “Likes”?

Social media has brought about a profound transformation in the structure of human consciousness in general, and in the perceptions of Muslim youth in particular. It no longer functions merely as a set of communication tools, but rather as an entire environment for producing meanings, redefining values, and shaping standards of success and failure, significance and insignificance.

Among the most notable phenomena produced by this environment is what may be described as the culture of “mass visibility.” Appearance, reach, and follower counts have become—explicitly or implicitly—central elements in evaluating people and their work, and even in shaping how individuals perceive their place within Allah’s will and the purpose of their existence.

In its essence, the question of purpose is a purely devotional one: What does Allah want from me in the place where He has positioned me?

This question is inseparable from belief in divine decree, from understanding priorities, and from grasping the meaning of comprehensive servitude, as Allah says: “I did not create jinn and humans except to worship Me.” (Adh-Dhariyat 51:56)

Yet under the influence of platform culture, this question has gradually shifted from a question of obedience to a question of positioning: Where do I stand among people? What role will make me influential, visible, and impactful? Here lies the confusion between Allah’s will for the servant and the inner desire for heroism within the self—a desire that naturally feeds on praise and social recognition.

From Worship to Visibility

This shift did not occur suddenly. It formed gradually through a widely circulated discourse that links value to visible impact, benefit to the breadth of influence, and success to one’s ability to “make a difference.” While these meanings may be valid in themselves, once detached from the scale of the Sharia and reduced to their popularized, crowd-centered form, they become a heavy psychological and normative burden.

Work that remains within the circle of one’s family, or that takes place quietly in private life, or that is not accompanied by applause, begins to feel deficient in value—despite the possibility that it may be among the greatest acts of devotion in the sight of Allah.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) established a different standard of value—fulfilling responsibility where you stand. He said: “Do not belittle any good deed, even if it is giving a rope’s strap, or giving a sandal strap, or pouring some of your water into the container of one who asks for water, or removing something harmful from the road of the people, or meeting your brother with a cheerful face, or greeting him with peace…” (1)

The Narrowing of “Benefit”

As the concept of benefit became increasingly restricted in modern perception, Allah’s will was subtly reduced to large-scale, outwardly visible forms of social impact. Acts such as raising children, caring for parents, or quietly fulfilling one’s professional duties began to be seen as transitional phases or temporary excuses—rather than as missions in themselves.

This represents a profound distortion in understanding. Islamic law does not measure value by the breadth of impact, but by the sincerity of obedience and by placing every ability where Allah intended it to be used.

This distortion is further deepened by the constant consumption of highly visible public figures. Followers do not merely receive ideas and content; they unconsciously absorb the atmosphere of brilliance, engagement metrics, and curated images of success displayed on screens.

Over time, comparisons inevitably begin:
Why have I not achieved what they have?
Where do I stand compared to their number of followers?
What am I lacking?

Such comparisons rarely account for the long journeys of effort, gradual development, sincerity, or the correctness of deeds according to the principles of the Sharia. Instead, they occur in the shadow of visible “like” counters and apparent success, stripped of context. From here, regret emerges—turning into frustration, then apathy, until the practical trajectory of a person’s life ends in complete withdrawal from meaningful action.

When Good Intentions Become a Veil

Another danger arises when this psychological state cloaks itself in the language of good intentions. A person may convince himself that he seeks visibility only to benefit people, spread goodness, or deliver a message.

Yet the Prophet (peace be upon him) warned about the subtlety of this door when he said: “Deeds are to be judged only by intentions, and a man will have only what he intended.” (Al-Bukhari and Muslims)

An action may appear identical outwardly, yet differ profoundly in its weight before Allah. How often does conveying truth become self-promotion, and introducing goodness become boasting, if a person lacks sincere moments of solitude in which he holds himself accountable away from the eyes of people.

The Devaluation of Quiet Good Deeds

Another consequence of this environment is the disturbance of how deeds are valued and the growing tendency to belittle small acts of goodness. Yet the Prophet (peace be upon him) said a comprehensive and decisive statement: “Do not belittle any good deed.”

The divine scale does not recognize “small deeds” in the conventional sense. Rather, it weighs hearts, intentions, and steadfastness. But a soul accustomed to noise grows weary of silent work, because it carries neither applause nor echo.

Here the devil enters through the door of discouragement, convincing a person that his efforts are meaningless. Or desire enters through the door of spectacle, pushing him to abandon the good already within his reach in search of something more visible and impressive.

The Paradox of Paralysis

Paradoxically, all of this ultimately leads to inaction. When the value of deeds becomes tied to visibility, the soul loses the ability to persist in obscurity. When Allah’s will is imagined only in grand achievements, a person halts his movement until ideal circumstances appear.

He becomes occupied with planning his “mission” instead of fulfilling his duties, waiting for a grand project instead of cultivating the present moment.

Yet Allah says: “So compete with one another in doing good.” (Al-Baqarah 2:148)

The command to hasten toward goodness was not conditioned upon the magnitude of the act, but upon the willingness to begin wherever goodness appears.

We do not need to oppose social media, nor deny its influence. What we urgently need is awareness that restores it to its proper place—so that it does not transform from a tool into a scale of value, or from a medium into a source of authority.

When the scale returns to its rightful position, deeds become light again, intentions regain their sincerity, and the details of everyday life—small and great alike—become arenas for fulfilling the will of Allah, rather than a prolonged stage for waiting to play the role of a hero.

Restoring the correct understanding of Allah’s will therefore requires liberating the heart from the scale of mass visibility, and reconnecting actions with their devotional meaning rather than their social image.

For Allah’s will is recognized in steadfastness before visibility, in sincerity before reach, and in seeking the eternal Face of Allah—even if no one else bears witness.

Read Also:

-       How Does Social Media Shape Consumer Culture?

-       4 Moral Violations on Social Media and How Muslims Can Avoid Them

-       Parental Model Challenges in the Age of Social Media

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Footnotes:

1-    Musnad Ahmad: The Musnad of the Meccans — The Hadith of Abu Tamimah Al-Hujaymi from the Prophet (peace be upon him) (15525).

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