I should spend more time on social media.

Unlike most people, who are free to protect their mental health by reducing their social media intake, journalists are obligated to spend an increasing amount of time on social platforms like Facebook and X (formerly Twitter). My resistance to that trend has occasionally put me at a professional disadvantage, because social media has become the best way to monitor the statements and activities of some newsmakers.

There was a time when routine news came through press releases and press conferences. Some people in the news still use those traditional means of communication, but others have abandoned the old ways in favor of social media. It allows them to bypass journalists and go straight to the audience.

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But without journalists adding context, seeking contrary views and doing their best to exercise good news judgment, social media consumers are unwittingly manipulated by influencers and algorithms into obsessing over trivialities.

The debate over who qualifies as a journalist has intensified as social media regulation efforts gain momentum across the country.

A viral dustup at last week’s South Dakota Republican Convention was a case in point. I happened upon it when I tried to cover a speech by U.S. Senate Majority Leader John Thune, R-South Dakota.

I had completed the party’s online press registration days earlier. But when I tried to enter the room where Thune was scheduled to speak, a sergeant-at-arms blocked me. I showed him my press credential. I told him I’d registered. I showed him the email I received from the party allowing me to attend.

I might as well have been telling him Joe Biden won the 2020 presidential election. He wasn’t going to be moved by evidence.

Meanwhile, local gadfly James Bialota and traveling social media influencer Scott Presler had also been denied entrance to Thune’s speech and were arguing with local and state party officials.

Some of those officials eventually told me Bialota and Presler were presenting themselves as members of the press based on their social media activities (although Presler also appeared to have a ticket), and had “ruined it” for the rest of the media — in other words, for me, the only journalist in sight. Thus, the party chairman had decided not to allow any media in the room, I was told.

Because I don’t spend as much time on social media as I should, I didn’t know much about Presler. I’ve since learned he’s a frequent agitator on behalf of the SAVE America Act, which would require all Americans to show proof of citizenship when registering to vote and a photo ID when casting a ballot (South Dakota already requires both). Presler and some other supporters of the legislation blame Thune for its failure to pass the Senate.

Thune’s response has been blunt: The bill doesn’t have the votes.

“At the end of the day, I have to deal with reality,” he said recently. “And sometimes the alternative universe that is X doesn’t reflect the facts on the ground.”

President Donald Trump launched his followers, including Presler, into that alternative universe last week. Trump canceled a signing ceremony for a bipartisan housing bill while saying he wouldn’t approve that legislation until Congress sends him the SAVE Act.

The next day, Presler parachuted into the South Dakota Republican Convention, filmed part of his confrontation with the sergeant-at-arms who blocked his entrance, and shared the video online to stoke more anger about the SAVE Act’s fate. At last check on Facebook, the video had 1.2 million views.

I had no viral intentions. I wanted to hear Thune’s speech — and another one by his surprise guest, U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin — so I could report any newsworthy comments, and ask Thune and Mullin some questions.

Had I been allowed in the room where Thune spoke, I might have been able to ask him why, even though he says the SAVE Act doesn’t have enough support, he’s spoken in favor of the bill’s provision requiring identification to vote. Wouldn’t a federally imposed requirement like that be a step toward nationalizing elections? Wouldn’t it diminish the power of states to run their own elections? Isn’t that something Republicans like Thune always opposed before Trump came along?

Those are the kinds of challenging questions that journalists can put to politicians like Thune who are still willing to engage with the press.

But when everybody’s attention is diverted by a viral sideshow, and press access is blocked, nobody outside the room learns anything.