Leave The Rage Bait Dangling
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Imagine a piece of bait dangling in the water. A passing fish sees it. What a stroke of luck to stumble upon a free, unsuspecting meal.
Believing it has found prey, it strikes, convinced it has the power and is acting on its own terms.
Only after the hook pierces through does the reality set in. This fish was the target rather than the predator. It got caught in a trap that took advantage of its reactive instinct.
In this episode, I talk about how leaving it there can be an act of gentle rebellion. Not in terms of setting traps, but in terms of letting the bait dangle.
“Leave it there” is our current exploration theme in The Haven. As I reflected on this idea of bait and tempting action, I realised there are two sides to it. There is the bait that is left there in the hope we bite. And there is what we can do when we engage our critical thinking and cultivate a sense of indifference to the attention and engagement economy that so desperately needs us to react.
The Hook Hidden Inside Rage Bait
We see this everywhere.
I often think about the Jaguar advert that caused such a massive stir online. The internet absolutely erupted. Thousands of people rushed to their keyboards to make videos rejecting it, mocking it, asking where the car was, and lamenting the death of the company. It was interesting to notice how people thought they were being edgy by standing up to corporate culture in this way.
But they performed exactly as predicted. They had bitten down on the hook, carefully prepared by the chefs in the Jaguar marketing kitchen.
Reacting predictably isn’t necessarily the act of resistance we imagine it to be. It isn’t a display of strength. In fact, it’s often compliance with what the data would expect us to do.
Rage bait seeks to cash in on our good faith and our sensitivity to injustice, unfairness, and ignorance. It is an energy vampire that leaves a bitter taste in our mouths, not only robbing us of time to create, contribute, and bring more beautiful things into the world, but also tainting those things with that flavour.
Shifting our relationship with rage bait has a greater potential reach than the respite we might experience in the moment.
The Attention Economy Wants Us to React
Philosopher Byung-Chul Han writes about the shift towards an “achievement society“. We are no longer controlled primarily by an external authority telling us what we should do in order to gain favour. Instead, Han argues, that pressure has moved inwards.
Power now operates through the pressure of the “endless can”.
There are abundant opportunities and invitations to work without limits, hustle harder, outpace the competition, and stay ahead of the game. A never-ending, asymptotic game, where the end we think we’re closing in on remains forever just out of reach.
And the person cracking the whip is inside us. The super-egoic injunction to forever do more than you’re currently doing.
Online clout chasers and rage baiters are part of this ecosystem. Not necessarily as evil masterminds, but as people trapped in an endless demand for attention. Constantly pressured to exploit themselves and stay visible, whatever the cost to others and to society as a whole.
The platform designers, however well-intentioned they may have been at the start, consistently end up building digital arenas based on algorithms that turn us against one another (and ourselves). Whether directly or indirectly, they stir strong emotions that can be turned into profit.
Once attention becomes the currency, people begin competing for it in whatever ways work best.
When Defiance Becomes Compliance
There is a type of rage bait (trolling, poking the bear, questioning authority) that seems to me a very natural expression of youth. To rebel and rail against society as a way to distinguish one’s own subjectivity.
But the mechanics of capitalism have a way of commodifying rebellion. It folds attempts to rebel, especially online, back into its own logic, handing over a creator revenue dashboard and dangling the carrot of potential financial reward.
Defiance becomes compliance.
What may have started as an act of individual autonomy in the face of authority becomes a highly predictable form of algorithmic compliance with authority.
For everyone else, the temptation to react to those dangling rage bait in the waters around us can be incredibly strong.
But it is also predictable, and it becomes part of the currency.
It risks eroding trust, patience, and honesty.
When Everything Starts Looking Like Rage Bait
I’ve noticed on Threads recently how often jokes seem to get misunderstood.
“They’re called Fish FINGERS, not Fish STICKS. Fish don’t have sticks!!!”
It seems to be a joke poking fun at the fact that they’re called “fish fingers” in the UK and “fish sticks” elsewhere. The punchline is built on the absurdity of the speaker failing to subvert the logic of the debate. They’ve assumed they’re called fish fingers because they’re literally the fingers from fish.
It’s a nice, neat joke. Obviously a joke…
Apparently not obviously a joke.
It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed people instinctively reaching for the label “rage bait.” Whether they missed the joke or simply assumed it was another bad faith provocation, I was struck by how quickly people interpreted it through that lens.
Maybe constant exposure to online engagement bait (bad faith posts intended to make people react) has trained us to interpret everything defensively.
Instead of asking, “Is this funny?” we’re asking, *”What’s this person trying to do to me?” or “What are they trying to take from me?”
A joke is laughter bait. Chuckle bait. Groan bait. Not rage bait.
These wider algorithmic trends may be eroding our discernment and, with it, changing how we think.
Leave It There
So how do we respond with gentle rebellion?
We can return to the phrase that cuts both ways:
There are those who leave the bait dangling in our feeds, hoping to cash in on our sensitivity and unsettle things for the sake of an algorithmic payday.
Our ultimate defiance is to look directly at it, recognise what it is, and choose how to respond.
Sometimes that means saying nothing, changing the subject, making something, or simply giving our attention to something we’ve already decided deserves it more.
It isn’t always the most cathartic response. The pull to react can be incredibly strong in that moment, and it can feel like an instant hit of relief to do so.
But once the dust settles, there’s a deeper satisfaction in knowing your attention went where you chose, not where someone else wanted to drag it.
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Join us for free in The Haven Courtyard.
Maybe we can cultivate rebellious indifference together.
