When Social Media Algorithms Become the New Mufti for Young People
In the era of folding screens and relentless information flow, the way the younger generation absorbs spiritual values has undergone a radical shift. TikTok’s search columns, Instagram Reels, and YouTube are now visited far more often than the doors of religious study circles (majelis taklim) or Islamic boarding schools (pesantren). Fundamental questions about religious law, theological doubts, and inner spiritual conflicts are no longer answered by the nearest kyai or ustadz, but by a series of short videos that appear instantly on screen.
Unconsciously, the social media algorithm, through the For You Page (FYP) feature, has taken over the role of religious authority once held by scholars. It is this algorithm that now actively selects, presents, and seemingly validates which thoughts are considered the most legitimate for public consumption. Something that goes viral is automatically deemed correct, while deep but less engaging thoughts are buried in the digital void.
This phenomenon has given rise to a new fundamental crisis in the modern religious landscape: the erosion of the chain of scholarly transmission (sanad). Learning religion that relies on machines instead of teacher guidance produces a fragmented, instant, and shallow understanding of Islam. The resulting religiosity tends to be isolated within personal echo chambers and loses the essence of authentic scholarly lineage that has guaranteed the integrity of Islamic teachings for over a dozen centuries.
In the classical Islamic scholarly tradition, sanad is not merely a list of names in a lineage, but a transmission of values, etiquette, and methodology connecting a student all the way back to the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). The tabi’in scholar Abdullah bin al-Mubarak once asserted, ‘Sanad is part of the religion; if it were not for sanad, anyone would say whatever they wished.’ Face-to-face learning (talaqqi) ensures that knowledge is transferred along with an understanding of social context, the warmth of empathy, and the formation of noble character.
When the learning space moves entirely to social media, this process of knowledge transfer loses its dimension of human etiquette and exemplary conduct. Viewers absorb fatwas in snippets of a dozen seconds from content creators whose scholarly backgrounds are often unclear. Religious knowledge is no longer understood as a light (nur) that guides the soul, but merely as raw information that can be freely interpreted, truncated, or criticised without regard for established scholarly ethics.
Technically, the working logic of social media algorithms was never designed to test theological depth or the correctness of fiqh arguments. The system operates solely based on engagement, prioritising content that triggers emotion, sensation, and controversy, and maximises watch time. As a result, sharp, rigid religious narratives that provoke fierce debate are far more favoured by the system than calm, moderate, and comprehensive religious discussions.
This mechanism creates a dangerous filter bubble for religious maturity. Users are only fed ideas that confirm their own biases, pushing religious views towards extremes, whether excessively rigid or overly liberal. This commodification of reactions slowly fractures communal bonds (ukhuwah) and dulls tolerance amidst the diversity of Islamic legal interpretations.
A further impact of this digital consumption model of religion is the emergence of a solipsistic style of religiosity, or ‘cafeteria religion’. Religion is treated like goods in a supermarket, where one is free to pick and choose preferred legal rulings and ignore burdensome obligations. Sharia is consumed to satisfy personal desires, no longer as a complete submission to the Creator.
The true depth of fiqh, rich with humanistic considerations and the methodology of usul al-fiqh, is being extraordinarily trivialised. Complex legal issues requiring deep ijtihad are simplified into instant black-and-white verdicts of halal or haram. This instant interpretation implicitly ignores historical context and the higher objectives of Sharia (maqasid al-shariah), giving birth to a religious understanding that is rigid on the outside but fragile within.
Facing these challenges of the age, the best course of action is not to oppose technological development. What is urgent is the reconstruction of sanad in the digital era through strengthening religious literacy among the community. The faithful must be trained to remain critical, able to distinguish between propagandistic content chasing popularity and authentic knowledge sourced from an accountable scholarly track record.
Scholars, academics, and mainstream religious institutions are also required to actively reclaim the digital public sphere in a more adaptive manner. The presence of competent religious figures with engaging content packaging will serve as a counterbalance amidst the noisy digital information landscape. Religious communication must be packaged to be relevant to the language of the younger generation without sacrificing the depth of the material and the weight of the scholarship being conveyed.
Ultimately, we must realise that even the most sophisticated algorithms can only present data and statistical information. Machines can never replace the role of a teacher in providing spiritual transformation, exemplary conduct, and profound wisdom. Preserving the tradition of scholarly transmission (sanad) in the digital age is a crucial endeavour to ensure the younger generation does not lose its way in the roaring ocean of information.