Why we can’t simply blame social media for rise of far-right in Scotland

There’s reason to be concerned. Referrals of Scots to the UK’s Prevent programme have been steadily increasing, with right-wing extremism now raising more alarm than Islamist extremism. It’s a trend that’s hard to ignore.

Unsurprisingly, much of the debate around this rise has centred on social media. Platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and TikTok have been widely blamed for amplifying far-right content. In the wake of last year’s Southport attack, for example, they were criticised for failing to curb the spread of misinformation. This resulted in an online surge in anti-Muslim hate speech and, eventually, violence in parts of England and Northern Ireland.

Better moderation no silver bullet

Although Scotland did not experience civil unrest last August, Swinney and other politicians urged platforms to take faster, firmer action against online hate and misinformation.

So big tech companies should absolutely shoulder some of the blame. Their platforms are easily exploited by extremist groups to manipulate public discourse and recruit disaffected individuals, especially young men.

The Ferret found that far-right groups in Scotland used the August riots to recruit new members via their various social media accounts. Even as the UK’s Online Safety Act threatens large fines for non-compliance, hate speech remains rampant. X owner Elon Musk’s “free-speech absolutism” has, in practice, dismantled safeguards once in place to protect minorities.

However, better moderation won’t be a silver bullet. It’s become politically convenient to point the finger at social media, especially in the aftermath of incidents like Southport. But politicians themselves have contributed to a toxic national conversation around immigration – one that primes citizens to accept lies about asylum seekers and refugees, long after they have been publicly debunked.

Cost of living, housing and the NHS

This erosion of public trust in both political institutions and the media has been a slow burn over the last decade. And it’s not just about what’s being said online – it’s about who people believe, and why they believe them.

There are proposed solutions: media literacy programmes, quicker fact-checking, tighter platform regulation. But these will not move the needle if politicians continue to weaponise immigration and sow division.

The recent UK Youth Poll lays this out clearly. While immigration may dominate the headlines, only 24 per cent of young people named it as a top issue. Instead, they pointed to the cost of living, healthcare, and housing as their biggest concerns.

Their disillusionment runs deep – so much so that a small number even said they preferred dictatorship over democracy. When political institutions consistently fail to deliver on these bread-and-butter issues, far-right narratives gain traction.

The summit offers an opportunity for a reset. It’s encouraging to hear that inequality and discrimination – key drivers of radicalisation – are on the agenda. But if we’re serious about tackling far-right extremism, we must look beyond algorithms. Social media may be the delivery mechanism, but this discontent comes from somewhere much deeper.

Let’s stop treating platforms like the root cause, and start addressing reasons why these ideologies resonate in the first place.

Dr Paul Reilly is a senior lecturer in communications, media and democracy at the University of Glasgow