Update 47 - Youtube Fatigue

Nostalgia is a drug. It is a trance we put ourselves in for the sake of comfort and escapism. It’s part of the reason certain habits persist well after we should have put them to bed. Lately I’ve found Youtube to be one of those things.

When I was in college, I remember being so enamored by content creators on the YouTube, especially the gaming content creators. I wasn’t into fail videos and COD deathmatch mashups, so much as things like Achievement Hunter and Funhaus. Even then I was nostalgic for the times when me and my younger siblings would play the same game together, sometimes laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe.

That’s not really something I experience anymore. Getting my old gaming pals on anything is an effort that feels like they’re humoring me more than anything. There’s not really a connection, this is just one more gaming session before they move on to their main party. And that’s kind of where I disconnect. It’s not that they don’t play together anymore, they just play religiously. Nightly. On PC rigs that cost markedly more than my writing laptop.

It’s the same reason people watch Twitch streamers. It’s that feeling of inclusion, that parasocial sense of belonging to a greater community. No one knows your name, or values anything but your quick wit and donations, but you are part of the gang, part of chat. Some of the same people will be miffed at why someone would watch sports when they could be out playing them.

Education was another great potential found in Youtube, and while buried it’s still there. I’ve left a list of my favorite YouTube writing channels on the Useful Info Tab here. Yet even education can boil down to an excuse.

“I’m not vegging out in front of the TV like some normie, I’m learning about serial killers. I’m learning about the troubled development of a movie that came out 20 years ago. I’m learning, I’m learning, I’m learning.”

And I honest to God don’t know if I am learning. It’s information that is useless to me, or else contributes to some scale that I’d rather not overweigh. And the absolute disconnect between fans and the actual topic itself is stunning.

It’s standard procedure to hear “smash that like button” or “I’d love to hear what you have to say in the comments”. They don’t. It drives engagement to comment and like, and that’s what’s valued. Creators get trapped into categories, finding their audiences waning if their content isn’t consistent enough, isn’t short enough, doesn’t have an alarming and misguiding thumbnail with text you can see from a bus-length off. Every single concession made to making the content more accessible to untapped audience members feels like a chip off the soul, like a false demeanor lacquered on someone who might be a genuine artist.

I watched YouTube for the nostalgia. To feel like I was learning something even when all I was learning was “10 Scariest Japanese Urban Legends You Won’t Believe” or some equally vapid trash. To each their own, but I think for me YouTube is going the way of Facebook. Not a place for communication and education, but a cesspool of “content” gathering at the bottoms of a honeycombed echo chamber.

For Youtube channels about writing that are actually worth watching, please check out my list here.