The masses are not so dumb. After all.
The real challenge facing modern leadership isn't social media. It is that citizens now have the power to hold leaders accountable for what they said, what they promised and what they eventually did.
Isaac Clad
View author profile Aug 10·336views·19 min read
Analysis
The views expressed in this analysis article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views, editorial policy, or position of Dailyaccra.com, its editors, or its management.
For centuries, societies have been organised around a simple assumption: the people at the top know better than the people at the bottom.
Kings ruled because they were believed to possess a special authority. Aristocrats governed because birth was treated as evidence of superiority. Colonial administrators ruled because they claimed to possess the education, civilisation and intellectual capacity necessary to govern those they considered less enlightened. Judges, lawyers, academics, politicians, clergy and other members of the professional elite often occupied spaces that ordinary people could enter only with permission.
The masses were expected to listen.
They were expected to obey.
They were expected to vote when summoned, pay their taxes, respect institutions and accept explanations from those who supposedly understood how society worked.
That world is disappearing.
Not because ordinary people have suddenly become smarter than they were before, but because ordinary people now have something they did not have for most of human history: A voice that can travel.
A farmer with a smartphone can record what is happening in his community and reach thousands of people before the evening news. A university student can challenge a minister. A market woman can expose a broken public service. A young person with no political position can question a president directly. A citizen can retrieve an old campaign promise, place it beside what the politician is saying today, and ask very uncomfortable questions.
This is the real revolution of social media.
And many leaders still have not understood it.
The Old World Was Built Around Gatekeepers
Before the internet, information was expensive.
To reach a large audience, you generally needed access to a newspaper, radio station, television station, publishing house, political organisation or some other established institution.
That created gatekeepers.
Editors decided what the public would read.
Producers decided what the public would watch.
Broadcasters decided what the public would hear.
Political parties decided which voices were amplified.
And governments often had enormous influence over the media environment.
This did not necessarily make the old media system evil. Journalism served, and continues to serve, an extremely important function in society. Professional journalists can investigate complex issues, verify information and hold powerful people accountable.
But the system had a structural weakness and that was the number of people capable of broadcasting to the public was tiny compared with the number of people consuming the information.
One newspaper could have hundreds of thousands of readers.
One television station could have millions of viewers.
One radio station could influence the conversation of an entire city.
The ordinary citizen, meanwhile, was largely a consumer.
If you disagreed with what you heard on television, you could complain to your family, your friends, your church, your workplace or perhaps write a letter to the editor.
But you could not instantly reach 100,000 people yourself.
Social media destroyed that imbalance.
The Printing Press Already Warned Us
There is an important historical precedent.
The modern information revolution did not begin with Facebook, TikTok or X.
It began, in part, with the printing press.
Johannes Gutenberg's development of movable-type printing in Europe in the fifteenth century dramatically reduced the difficulty and cost of reproducing written material. Books, pamphlets and eventually newspapers could circulate on a scale that was previously impossible.
Ideas that had once been confined to scholars, clergy and royal courts could spread among ordinary people.
The consequences were enormous.
The Protestant Reformation, for example, was helped by the rapid circulation of printed texts. Political pamphlets became powerful instruments during periods of political upheaval. Literacy became increasingly valuable because access to information was no longer restricted to those who could personally enter elite intellectual institutions.
The printing press did not simply create more books, it redistributed the power to communicate.
Social media is doing something similar, but on a scale that would have been unimaginable to Gutenberg.
The difference is speed.
A pamphlet once took days or weeks to produce and distribute.
A social-media post can reach millions in minutes.
The Telephone, Radio and Television Changed the Equation Again
Every major communication technology has altered the relationship between ordinary people and power.
The telephone allowed people to communicate across distances without physically travelling. Radio created the possibility of reaching enormous populations simultaneously. Television brought images of wars, political speeches and social movements directly into people's homes.
But these technologies remained largely one-directional.
A broadcaster spoke. The public listened.
A newspaper published. The public read.
A president addressed the nation. The nation watched.
The internet changed this relationship.
Social media went even further.
Now the audience talks back.
And, perhaps more importantly, the audience talks to one another.
That is the part many political leaders still underestimate.
The Smartphone Turned Everybody Into a Potential Broadcaster
The smartphone is not merely a telephone.
It is a camera, microphone, television station, printing press, newspaper, recording studio, broadcasting platform and archive sitting inside the pocket of an ordinary citizen.
This has enormous implications for power.
Imagine a police officer abusing a citizen twenty years ago.
Perhaps five people witnessed it.
Today, someone may record it on a phone.
Imagine a public official making a promise at a political rally.
Someone records it.
Imagine a minister denying that something happened.
Someone produces an old video.
Imagine a government saying that a particular project has been completed.
A citizen visits the location, records what he finds and publishes it.
This creates a distributed system of public accountability, something previous generations did not possess at the same scale.
The individual citizen is no longer entirely dependent on the traditional media to tell his story.
The Masses Were Never As Dumb As Power Imagined
This is where the title of this article comes from.
The masses are not so dumb.
They may not have law degrees.
They may not understand every provision of a constitution.
They may not know the technical details of monetary policy.
They may not have attended Oxford, Harvard, Legon or the Ghana School of Law.
But ordinary people possess experience, something that elite institutions can never monopolise.
A person does not need a PhD in economics to know that food has become more expensive.
A person does not need to be a civil engineer to recognise a road that is falling apart.
A patient does not need to be a medical doctor to know that he waited six hours at a hospital.
A teacher does not need to be a policy analyst to know that his salary has not arrived.
A driver does not need a degree in public administration to know that a road project has remained unfinished for years.
A young graduate does not need to be an economist to know that he has sent hundreds of applications without finding a job.
Expertise matters.
Institutions matter.
Professional knowledge matters.
But expertise does not make ordinary people's experiences irrelevant.
And democracy becomes dangerous when those in power begin confusing formal education with superior intelligence.
Social Media Has Created a New Political Memory
Perhaps the most important change is not merely that citizens can speak.
It is that citizens can remember.
Politics has traditionally benefited from forgetfulness.
A politician can make a promise during an election campaign and hope that, by the next election, people will have forgotten the precise words.
A government can say that a project is almost completed.
Years later, the explanation can change.
A politician can make one argument while in opposition and a completely different argument after gaining power.
In the past, proving the contradiction could be difficult.
Today, somebody has probably recorded it.
A politician's speech from 2016 can be placed beside his speech from 2026.
A campaign promise can be clipped, reposted and compared with government performance.
A minister's interview can remain online long after the minister has forgotten what was said.
The internet has created something approaching a permanent political memory.
And politicians are discovering that the electorate has receipts.
This Is Why Social Media Makes Power Uncomfortable
Power has always preferred controlled communication.
Governments prefer press conferences.
Politicians prefer interviews with friendly journalists.
Institutions prefer carefully prepared statements.
But social media is chaotic.
Citizens interrupt.
They question.
They mock.
They criticise.
They demand explanations.
They bring old statements back.
They create memes.
They investigate.
They sometimes exaggerate.
They sometimes lie.
They sometimes abuse people.
And this is where an important distinction must be made.
The fact that social media has empowered ordinary citizens does not mean everything said on social media is true or acceptable.
There is misinformation.
There is defamation.
There are threats.
There is incitement.
There is hate speech.
There are scams.
There is harassment.
There are deliberate attempts to destroy people's reputations.
A democratic society has legitimate reasons to address these problems.
But there is a fundamental difference between protecting citizens from genuine harm and protecting political leaders from criticism.
That distinction is where the battle for the future of democracy will increasingly be fought.
The Dangerous Temptation of Regulating Speech
When governments become uncomfortable with social media, the temptation is understandable.
They see misinformation spreading.
They see insults directed at public officials.
They see people making outrageous claims.
They see threats.
They see political mobilisation happening outside traditional structures.
And governments naturally want tools to deal with these problems.
But there is a danger.
A law created to combat dangerous misinformation can become a tool for suppressing inconvenient criticism.
A law created to protect public order can become a tool for intimidating protesters.
A law created to prevent harmful speech can become a tool for protecting politicians from embarrassment.
The question therefore should never simply be “Should social media be regulated?” Of course some aspects of social media should be regulated. The more important question is: “Who gets to decide what speech is unacceptable, under what law, with what safeguards, and subject to what independent oversight?”
Because the government that you trust today may be the government you fear tomorrow.
And the political party you support today may be the opposition tomorrow.
Ghana Has Been Here Before
Ghana's own democratic history provides an important lesson.
The country once had criminal libel and sedition laws that could be used against journalists and others involved in public expression.
In 2001, Parliament unanimously repealed Ghana's criminal libel and seditious laws through the Criminal Code (Repeal of Criminal Libel and Seditious Laws) (Amendment) Act, 2001 (Act 602). The law specifically removed provisions dealing with criminal libel, sedition, defamation of the President and certain false reports.
That was not a trivial development.
It represented an important philosophical decision: Democracy should not protect public officials from criticism by criminalising criticism itself.
Ghana's 1992 Constitution also expressly protects freedom of speech and expression, including freedom of the press and other media, as well as freedom of assembly and access to information, subject to constitutional qualifications.
That history matters today because the country must be careful not to gradually recreate, through new legal mechanisms, the very environment that earlier democratic reforms sought to dismantle.
The Current Ghanaian Debate Deserves Serious Attention
Under President John Dramani Mahama's current administration, concerns about speech-related arrests have become a significant part of the public debate.
The Media Foundation for West Africa reported in May 2026 that it had documented 14 arrests within the first 16 months of the Mahama administration involving the application of laws concerning false news and offensive conduct, compared with eight such arrests it recorded over the entire eight-year administration of Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo. MFWA specifically identified Section 76 of the Electronic Communications Act, 2008 (Act 775), and Sections 207 and 208 of the Criminal Offences Act, 1960 (Act 29), as provisions whose use has raised concerns about the criminalisation of speech.
This is significant enough to demand public discussion.
It is also important to be intellectually honest about what these cases involve.
Some cases have involved allegations that go beyond mere political criticism. For example, police said a TikTok creator arrested in May 2026 had allegedly made threats against President Mahama and the First Lady and incited others to harm them.
Similarly, MFWA reported the July 2026 imprisonment of TikToker Camilla Alhassan following false claims concerning President Mahama. She was convicted of offensive conduct under Section 207 of the Criminal Offences Act and sentenced to one year in prison.
These are precisely the kinds of cases where society must resist simplistic arguments.
Threats are not the same thing as criticism.
Incitement is not the same thing as disagreement.
Defamation is not the same thing as political opinion.
And deliberate dangerous misinformation is not automatically protected simply because it is posted online.
But neither should governments be allowed to define every embarrassing statement as misinformation or every angry citizen as a threat.
That is where judicial independence, due process and narrowly drafted laws become essential.
Even the Opposition Must Be Careful
The political hypocrisy surrounding freedom of expression is one of the saddest features of democratic politics.
Parties often love free speech when they are in opposition.
They discover the importance of “responsible speech” when they are in government.
The NPP has strongly criticised the recent arrests and argued that they threaten freedom of expression. In April 2026, the party called for protection of free speech following the remand of its communicator Abubakar Yakubu, known as Baba Amando.
In May, the party also criticised the arrest and detention of its Bono Regional Chairman Kwame Baffoe, popularly known as Abronye DC, whose case involved allegations relating to offensive conduct and publication of false news.
The NPP's position deserves to be heard.
But there is an even larger principle here: The defence of free speech cannot depend on which political party is being criticised.
If free speech is defended only when one's own supporters are arrested, it is not really a defence of free speech.
It is a defence of political convenience.
The same principle must apply to the NDC.
The same principle must apply to the NPP.
The same principle must apply to journalists.
The same principle must apply to activists.
And most importantly, it must apply to the ordinary Ghanaian who does not belong to any political party.
The Protest Is Part of the Conversation
The growing political reaction has also spilled into the streets.
In April 2026, an NPP-organised demonstration in Sunyani, dubbed the “Yensuro Ahunahuna Demo,” featured placards calling attention to freedom of speech and democratic rights. Participants included messages such as “No freedom no peace,” while the petition associated with the demonstration argued that many Ghanaians no longer felt safe expressing themselves.
That development is important for another reason.
Social media does not replace physical political action.
It connects to it.
A Facebook post can become a demonstration.
A TikTok video can become a political controversy.
A WhatsApp message can mobilise a community.
A viral photograph can force an institution to respond.
The digital world and physical world are now deeply connected.
That is why attempts to control political speech online are unlikely to make political dissatisfaction disappear.
They may simply push it somewhere else.
The Arab Spring Was an Early Warning
The world received a dramatic demonstration of this new reality in 2011.
The Arab Spring showed how digital communication could help ordinary citizens organise, share information and expose events that governments would rather control.
In Tunisia and Egypt, social media and internet communication played an important role in the mobilisation surrounding the uprisings, although historians and researchers have rightly cautioned against describing social media as the sole or even sufficient cause of those revolutions. Economic hardship, authoritarianism, corruption, unemployment and long-standing political grievances were fundamental drivers.
The lesson was nevertheless unmistakable.
A government could no longer assume that controlling the national television station meant controlling the national conversation.
A person with a phone could document something.
Another person could share it.
A third person could translate it.
A fourth could organise around it.
And suddenly the story existed outside government control.
The same phenomenon has appeared in different forms across the world, from protest movements to police accountability campaigns to citizen journalism.
The Collective Human Spirit Is Difficult to Regulate
This is the deeper point.
Governments can regulate platforms.
They can regulate telecommunications companies.
They can pass laws.
They can arrest individuals.
They can demand information.
They can block websites.
They can suspend accounts.
They can even, in extreme circumstances, shut down internet access.
But none of these things eliminates the underlying human desire to speak.
History repeatedly demonstrates this.
People wrote pamphlets under monarchies.
They whispered political ideas under dictatorships.
They circulated underground newspapers under authoritarian regimes.
They transmitted information through radio.
They copied documents.
They smuggled books.
They gathered in churches, universities, markets and homes.
Human beings have always found ways to communicate when they believe something important must be said.
Technology changes the method.
It does not eliminate the impulse.
Kings Understood Something Modern Politicians Sometimes Forget
There is an interesting lesson in the old idea of royal honour.
Kings and queens understood that a public promise was a political instrument.
A king's word carried enormous consequences because his authority depended partly on the credibility of his word.
That does not mean ancient rulers were always honest. They certainly were not.
But political authority has always required some relationship between what a ruler says and what a ruler does.
The Bible provides one of the most dramatic examples.
In the Gospel accounts, Herod Antipas made a public oath at his birthday banquet, promising Herodias' daughter whatever she requested. She was then prompted to request the head of John the Baptist. Herod was distressed by the demand but, because of his oath and the presence of his guests, ordered that John be executed.
The story is horrifying precisely because a ruler's public word had become a trap.
Herod had made a promise.
He had witnesses.
He had to confront the consequences of his own words.
The lesson for modern leadership is not that politicians should execute people because they made promises at public events.
Obviously.
The lesson is that words matter.
Promises matter.
Public commitments matter.
The integrity of leadership is inseparable from the relationship between what leaders say and what they actually do.
Social Media Has Made Political Promises Harder to Escape
This is where the old world meets the new world.
A politician makes a promise.
Citizens record it.
The politician wins.
Citizens wait.
The politician delays.
Citizens repost the promise.
The politician explains.
Citizens produce another video.
The politician says circumstances changed.
Citizens produce another clip.
Eventually, the political argument becomes: “You said this.”
That sentence is becoming one of the most powerful tools available to citizens.
Not because every campaign promise can realistically be fulfilled exactly as stated.
Governments face unexpected crises.
Budgets change.
Global conditions change.
Parliament can reject proposals.
Courts can intervene.
Economic circumstances can deteriorate.
Good governance requires room for explanation.
But explanation is different from contempt.
Citizens can accept that circumstances changed.
What they increasingly refuse to accept is the assumption that they will simply forget.
The Smartphone Has Destroyed Political Amnesia
This may ultimately be the most profound effect of social media.
Political power once depended partly on controlling the present.
Today, citizens can constantly retrieve the past.
Old interviews.
Old speeches.
Old tweets.
Old campaign posters.
Old parliamentary statements.
Old press conferences.
Old promises.
Old accusations.
Old positions.
Everything comes back.
And sometimes it comes back at the worst possible moment.
A politician can spend years building a carefully constructed public image, only for a 30-second video from ten years ago to reappear.
The politician may call it propaganda.
The citizen may call it accountability.
Sometimes it will be propaganda.
Sometimes it will be accountability.
The challenge of modern democracy is learning to distinguish between the two.
But The Masses Can Also Be Wrong
There is another important point that must not be ignored.
If the masses are not dumb, neither are they automatically right.
Collective intelligence can become collective stupidity.
Millions of people can believe something false.
A lie can go viral faster than the truth.
Algorithms can reward outrage rather than accuracy.
Political actors can manipulate public sentiment.
Bots and coordinated networks can create the appearance of popular opinion.
Social media can produce mobs as easily as it produces accountability.
This is why the answer cannot be “Let the internet decide everything.”
The answer must be a healthier democratic ecosystem in which citizens have the freedom to speak, journalists have the freedom to investigate, courts have the independence to adjudicate disputes, governments have the responsibility to explain themselves, and citizens have the responsibility to verify what they share.
Freedom requires responsibility.
But responsibility must never become a convenient synonym for obedience.
The Real Problem Is Not That People Are Talking Too Much
Perhaps this is the mistake many leaders are making.
They see citizens insulting them and conclude that “Social media is the problem.”
But sometimes the insults are merely the symptom.
The underlying problem may be unemployment.
Or corruption.
Or broken roads.
Or rising prices.
Or poor public services.
Or unfulfilled promises.
Or perceived injustice.
Or the feeling that government officials live in a different country from the citizens they govern.
A government can arrest the person shouting about the problem.
It cannot arrest the problem itself.
You can remove the TikTok video.
But if the road remains broken, somebody else will record it.
You can arrest the blogger.
But if electricity remains unreliable, somebody else will complain.
You can threaten the journalist.
But if people remain angry, the anger will find another microphone.
You cannot legislate away dissatisfaction.
Leadership Should Answer the Question Instead of Arresting the Questioner
This does not mean every accusation should be accepted as true.
If somebody makes a false allegation against a public official, there should be lawful remedies.
If somebody threatens violence, the state has a legitimate duty to protect people.
If somebody incites people to commit crimes, society cannot simply pretend that nothing happened.
But the first instinct of democratic leadership should not be: “How do we silence this person?”
It should be: “Why are people saying this, and is there something we need to answer?”
A government that is confident in its record should welcome scrutiny.
A minister who believes his work is excellent should be able to explain it.
A president who believes his policies are working should be able to present the evidence.
A public institution should not require citizens to be silent in order to look competent.
The strongest governments are not those that eliminate criticism.
They are those that can survive criticism.
The Elite Need to Understand What Has Changed
The political elite are facing a profound cultural shift.
For centuries, knowledge flowed downward.
The elite spoke.
The masses listened.
Today, knowledge flows in every direction.
The teacher speaks to the minister.
The nurse speaks to the president.
The student challenges the professor.
The citizen challenges the judge.
The journalist challenges the politician.
And sometimes the politician challenges the citizen.
The hierarchy has not disappeared.
Institutions still matter.
Judges still have constitutional authority.
Lawyers still have professional expertise.
Doctors still know more about medicine than most patients.
Economists still understand economic models that most citizens do not.
But expertise no longer automatically grants **epistemic supremacy** over everybody else.
The person who does not know the law may still know that something is unfair.
The person who does not understand economics may still know that he cannot afford food.
The person who has never studied politics may still recognise a broken promise.
And the citizen does not have to become a lawyer before earning the right to ask a politician “Why?”
Democracy Was Never Supposed to Be Comfortable
This is perhaps what political leaders need to remember most.
Democracy is noisy.
Democracy is inconvenient.
Democracy is argumentative.
Democracy is sometimes rude.
Democracy is full of people who think they are right.
It involves protests.
Petitions.
Newspaper editorials.
Radio discussions.
Parliamentary arguments.
Court challenges.
Street demonstrations.
And now, TikTok videos, Facebook posts, WhatsApp messages, podcasts, livestreams and X threads.
A healthy democracy does not eliminate all of this noise.
It develops institutions capable of processing it.
The answer to bad speech should not automatically be more government power.
Sometimes the answer is better journalism.
Sometimes it is public education.
Sometimes it is fact-checking.
Sometimes it is a civil lawsuit.
Sometimes it is a correction.
Sometimes it is simply ignoring an idiot.
And when genuine criminal conduct occurs, the law should take its course through due process.
But the law must never become a shortcut for political convenience.
Leaders Must Stop Trying to Defeat the Internet
The internet is not going away.
Social media is not going away.
Smartphones are not going away.
Citizen journalism is not going away.
And citizens are certainly not going to stop demanding better simply because governments become uncomfortable with the demands.
The political class therefore has a choice.
It can spend enormous energy trying to control the conversation.
Or it can improve the thing being discussed.
It can attempt to regulate every uncomfortable opinion.
Or it can become more transparent.
It can arrest critics.
Or it can answer them.
It can fight videos.
Or it can create better realities that videos cannot disprove.
It can complain about social media.
Or it can understand why people are using social media to complain.
The second option is harder.
But it is also leadership.
The Future Belongs to Accountable Leadership
The world is entering an era in which public officials will have less and less ability to hide behind institutions.
That is not necessarily a bad thing.
It could produce better leadership.
A politician who knows that every promise will be recorded may think twice before making reckless commitments.
A public official who knows that citizens can photograph government projects may become more careful about claiming success.
A police officer who knows that his actions can be recorded may think twice before abusing a citizen.
A minister who knows that citizens can immediately fact-check his claims may prepare more carefully.
A president who knows that millions of citizens are watching may become more responsive.
This is not the destruction of authority.
It is the democratisation of accountability.
The Masses Are Not So Dumb
For too long, societies have confused social position with intelligence.
We have assumed that because someone sits in a courtroom, parliament, boardroom or presidential palace, they necessarily understand society better than everyone outside those walls.
They do not.
They may possess expertise.
They may possess authority.
They may possess experience.
They may possess information.
But they are still human beings.
And the people outside the room are human beings too.
They see things.
They experience things.
They remember things.
They understand things.
And now, for the first time in human history, they have unprecedented tools with which to **share those observations with one another**.
That is what makes this moment so important.
Social media is not simply an entertainment revolution.
It is a power revolution.
It has moved part of the power of communication from institutions to individuals.
And leaders who fail to understand this will spend their time fighting the symptoms of a transformation they cannot reverse.
The wise leader will do something else.
He will listen.
He will explain.
He will correct.
He will admit mistakes.
He will defend himself when necessary.
He will prosecute genuine criminal conduct when necessary.
But he will not confuse criticism with treason.
He will not confuse embarrassment with danger.
He will not confuse disagreement with disorder.
And most importantly, he will not mistake the silence of frightened citizens for the approval of satisfied citizens.
Because silence is not always consent.
Sometimes it is fear.
Sometimes it is exhaustion.
And sometimes it is simply the absence of a microphone.
Today, billions of people have microphones.
They are in their pockets.
They are in their homes.
They are in the markets.
They are in taxis.
They are in university classrooms.
They are in churches.
They are in villages.
They are everywhere.
And they are watching.
They are recording.
They are comparing.
They are remembering.
They are asking questions.
The age in which leaders could make promises and simply wait for the people to forget is ending.
The age of permanent political memory has arrived.
And the lesson for every government, every politician, every judge, every institution and every person who occupies a position of authority is remarkably simple: The people are not as dumb as you thought they were.
And if leadership is truly sacred, then its first obligation is not to silence the people.
It is to tell them the truth.
Because ultimately, leadership does not begin with power.
It begins with trust.
And trust does not survive where there is no integrity.
In the age of social media, leaders have only two choices:
Earn the trust of the people—or keep trying to silence the people who have stopped trusting them.
History suggests that the first option is always the wiser one.