What’s the difference between vaguebooking and a humblebrag? Is “supertweeting” really a thing? Why can’t we just say what we mean on social media?

On Wednesday the communications director of the Republican senator Orrin Hatch tweeted an unremarkable photo of Hatch speaking to reporters. It being literally part of his job, the tweet might have passed without comment if not for the caption:

The reference to “aggressive recorder shoving” coincided with his fellow Republican Greg Gianforte’s response to reports he “body-slammed” a Guardian US reporter, Ben Jacobs, and Twitter wasn’t talking about much else. Even if neither Gianforte nor Jacobs are mentioned by name, the tweet’s meaning is clear.

This kind of circuitous, sideways communication is par for the course online, and many neologisms have been coined to refer to it – even if use of them is largely restricted to the trend pieces in which they were invented. More direct than a subtweet, Whitlock’s photo, for example, is a bona fide “supertweet” as discussed in a 2015 Atlantic article (and barely at all since).

But the fact the terms themselves have low recognition (“What’re you doing on there?” “Oh nothing, just a little humblebragging before bed!”) – and indeed may have never been said aloud – does not mean the behaviours they describe aren’t real. Everyone counts a “vaguebooker” among their Facebook friends – someone whose posts are intentionally and infuriatingly opaque, apparently for the sole intention of attracting attention.

“Bad day.” “Fffff, I’m so angry right now.” “Let’s do this!” “Wondering if it was all worth it.” “Just signed away the next three years of my life...”

The worst offenders respond to polite or concerned inquiries, or offers of support, with “message me” or, even worse, “I don’t want to talk about it”. Why did you bring it up with hundreds of people then?

Adjacent to vaguebooking is “subtweeting”, a barb that lacks a stated prompt or subject so as to preserve plausible deniability. Though both are typically opaque, they differ in their direction. (Despite what their titles suggest, neither is specific to Facebook or Twitter, though they are representative of the general tenors of each platform.)

When you know who that subtweet is about pic.twitter.com/VojJfQqD8J — morgan jones (@morgmorgan25) April 4, 2017

A vaguebooking status like “Big things coming this year!” or “Please send positive vibes my way” is ultimately inward-looking, as much motivated by the desire to vent as to pique others’ curiosity or sympathy. A subtweet is far more pointed, and about or in response to a specific subject. Exactly what or who is not explicitly stated – but it’s often not hard to figure out.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary’s butter-wouldn’t-melt social media presence, with its innocuous assessments of Donald Trump’s own, er, neologisms, falls under this definition – note this observation tweeted after the president told the Economist he’d invented the phrase “prime the pump”. (The word “subtweet”, first recorded in 2006, does not yet meet the dictionary’s criteria for entry, though it is on its “Words We’re Watching” list.)

The phrase 'priming the pump' dates to the early 19th century. — Merriam-Webster (@MerriamWebster) May 11, 2017

When the occasion calls for a more strident response, there’s the supertweet, in which the subject is more explicit than in a subtweet but still not directly addressed. In most cases, the intent is fairly innocuous, as with Whitlock’s photo, or even tactful – it’s not always appropriate to tag a public figure.

But it’s a tactic that can be deployed underhandedly, especially during a social media pile-on.

Mini rant but I'm honestly starting to get tired of those posts that screenshot/quote someone's tweet for the sole purpose of insulting them — Mark (@masterdrakes) May 1, 2017

The most blatant example is criticising people by name but not by Twitter handle, thus exposing them in the embarrassing act of searching for themselves on the platform if they respond. Others may choose to use thinly veiled pseudonyms, such as rapper Azealia Banks’ nickname for Iggy Azealea during their 2014 Twitter beef, “Igloo Australia”.

One especially dastardly strategy is to post a screenshot of someone else’s online activity in order to comment on it, rather than responding to it directly. You may be going the extra mile to avoid alerting them, but you do so in the knowledge it’s bound to get back to them anyway.

Okay. Why do ppl screenshot ppl's tweets instead of just quote tweeting. Is this a new form of conflict avoidance? Never avoid conflict!!!! — ConservativeBlackMan (@Thomasismyuncle) April 7, 2017

The effect of this, and all other online avoidance methods, is speech visible to some and not others. It’s difficult to think of a real-world equivalent, but passing notes around a classroom is not far off – at least the inferences of juvenile, mocking behaviour ring true.

The potential for nastiness is enough to make you appreciate the vaguebookers, whose only crime was getting some good news they just couldn’t share.

Just saw a screenshot of a quote-tweet of a screenshot, and now I'm subtweeting a screenshot of a quote-tweet of a screenshot. It never ends — Jennifer Unkle (@jbu3) May 23, 2017

Of course the problem is not really vaguebooking, nor subtweeting, nor even screenshotting for nefarious purposes – it’s the human inclination to gossip or grandstand, and that’s by no means restricted to the internet.

The fundamental failing of these cute, catchy labels is they ascribe aspects of interpersonal communication to technology, as though “humblebragging” is a feature of your new iPhone. Social media didn’t cause people to couch boasts in self-effacement; it’s just made it easier to observe on a mass scale.

Sometimes I look back at my Facebook memories and I feel proud of how much I've grown and how I kicked my horrendous vaguebooking habit. — Sarah (@htimslas) May 21, 2017

It’s understandable that we choose to vent on the internet when it serves as a support network for so many – expressing ourselves online, no matter how opaquely, can feel like a release. The problem is, it’s pretty much impossible to extricate that impulse from the desire for external validation that social media so effectively indulges.

All online activity is motivated by the desire for release or retweets, and probably both. Deliberately vague statuses about good news, or bad; public barbs you’re pretty sure, but not certain, you understand; even, god forbid, song lyrics – as annoying as they are, they’re bids for some kind of approval, to be heard, to be seen.

Today I explained to my therapist what vaguebooking is and the look of horror on her face was perfect — Erika Thorkelson (@ethorkel) May 6, 2017

• This article was amended on 26 May 2017. An earlier version misdescribed Greg Gianforte as a senator. Gianforte won this week’s election for Montana’s seat in the House of Representatives.