Week 13: the internet has become a scary place

What do we owe content creators, and what do they owe us?

I am so afraid of the state of the internet today.

When the absence of posting speaks volumes, but leaves a void for the voices of people hungry for clicks, impressions, and views to leverage their profiles and insert their unwarranted opinions, a wildfire of internet narratives catches.

Many of you reading this might be confused by the catalyst for me writing this, and I will not go into details explaining the situation, even if it is just to provide the groundwork for this piece. Engaging in alleged speculation about the personal and tragic details of someone’s life, in any context, is wrong.

D- Doing: Touching grass on what it means to be a follower

No matter how much time you’ve invested in supporting and watching a content creator’s content, they are not your friend, and you are not their boss.

The para-social relationship that forms between viewers and creators is, of course, a consequence of a click-driven digital economy where every interaction can lead to real cash.

That gives audiences a feeling of entitlement over information and access to creators’ lives. If you believe they only have the capacity to earn because you view their content, and that entitles you to unrestricted access to their lives, touch grass.

In what other situation are individuals not able to define their boundaries between personal and professional? Toxic, exploitative work environments that, if viewers found out their favorite influencer was at the helm of, would have them immediately canceled (i.e. Matilda Djerf and her toilet drama).

I- Interested in: Conscious consumption, again.

Of course, I am only human, and I am fascinated with the titillating drama of any public figure’s life, but have we not evolved past the level of public scrutiny and demand that led Britney to shave her head in 2007?

I wrote before about the idea of conscious pop culture, and also the idea of conscious consumption of physical goods (clothes), but the ideas collide when looking at the way we engage with media.

Pop culture reporting used to be left for tabloids and magazine spreads. Reporters (ethical or not) really defined the public discourse around pop culture and pop culture figures.

Now, anyone with a phone and connection to the internet can be a reporter, briefing viewers on the unusual posting patterns and speculating between the lines (or posts) of any pop culture figure.

With that power comes a lot of responsibility, and over the past few days on TikTok, it’s been wielded for a lot of bad (even some bad disguised as good).

G- Getting: Disgusted by the state of the internet

The algorithm itself seems to have no morality.

Every time I open TikTok, my algorithm adds to the conversation in subtle ways, operating as if with a consciousness (or lack thereof) of its own.

Resurfacing old videos from trending creators that add to the ongoing narratives being held in their absence. It feels like the invisible hand of the algorithm is so calculated that it is almost too scary to believe there isn’t a person curating our feeds.

S- Suggesting: We all disconnect

As hard as it is to stop yourself from clicking the toxic search bar at the bottom of the video, we need to avoid it.

With the power that we have as viewers, and the currency of our engagement skyrocketing to higher values each day, we need to ensure that we don’t create an online digital economy as dependent on exploitation as our existing fiscal one.

Instead, we can value the content being shared with us, engage not out of rage or desire for views/ attention, but out of support and enjoyment. And be conscious custodians of our digital environment, rather than exploitative landlords over digital tenants.