Temporarily Embarrassed Celebrities

I guess the trouble was that we didn't have any self-admitted proletarians. Everyone was a temporarily embarrassed capitalist.

-John Steinbeck

My first voyages on the internet began in 1999, already pushing the edge of the decentralized web. But I remember a time before YouTube, and I remember the white-knuckled grip it had on me and my peers almost as soon as it arrived in 2005.

The line between “content creators” (barf) and “everyone else” was blurred all at once. This wasn’t like watching celebrities perform on TV or at the movies. You, the average internet user, weren’t so different from Smosh, or Boxxy, or… Fred. Each of them created an account on the same site, recorded from homes not so different from yours, pressed the same upload button. The possibility of joining that pantheon was, technically, on the table.

Please don't mistake me for one of those short-sighted fools who cites “75% of children ages 6 to 17 want to become YouTubers” and decries this as a sign of decadent self-absorption. You may recognize this attitude because it's the one every aging generation has adopted since the beginning of civilization.

In fact I find it fascinating that, according to the very same business magnates worshipped by those who criticize the youth, the distance between the stage and the crowd has shrunk to infinitesimal size. Your grandpa’s dreams of shredding an electric guitar at Madison Square Garden may have been quashed back in the '80s, but viral TikTokers like Noah Kahan are selling out venues. YouTube personalities have graduated into the TV format, such as Grace Helbig, David Dobrik, and... Fred. And each of these people, ostensibly, started out like you, just an average schmuck with an internet connection and a dream.

This, along with all other manifestations of American exceptionalism, is a a glorified pyramid scheme. The people who stand to make money are all too happy to pluck the winning examples from a vast sea of broken-hearted hopefuls. If you believe fame and fortune are free for the taking on services like YouTube or TikTok you’re going to invest your time and energy into the platform. If you fail, at least they'll get your advertisable attention-seconds. If you beat the odds and upload a hit, you've helped to harvest advertisable attention-seconds from others.

In 2006, the year after YouTube was created, Twitter(?) launched and Facebook became available to the public. These three sites grew rapidly, and they grew side-by-side. Social networks didn’t begin with the idea of achieving celebrity status, but later additions such as the “Like” button and “followers” (sorry Neocities) certainly helped propagate the illusion. In the words of the all-knowing CJ the X(?), "Your thoughts are not meant to be performed... [they are] more sacred than Tweets."

Look - if YouTube didn’t do it, another platform would have. And don't let my cynicism disparage your dreams. If making videos or posting your music online is what you’re passionate about, you are not the problem. But please remember that these platforms weren't made for you. They exist to accrue ad revenue and subscription fees for a small, small number of parasites who pay the app's top performers just enough to keep them working. The majority of so-called content creators are doing so unpaid. You might become the next Noah Kahan or you might not, but the plutocrats keep shoveling that cash either way.

YouTube is a central pillar of the core web in part because of the supposedly democratic nature of its virality - like a poisoned version of Ratatouille's central theme. Not everyone can make a viral video; but a viral video can come from anywhere. While technically true, this dangling carrot has turned us all into temporarily embarrassed celebrities.