Short Form Video Melted My Brain
Okay, Grover. I will.
Reels, TikToks, YouTube shorts, these are all just monopolizing the time of screen addicts and making us dumber, right? That’s what the panic headlines say.
If you're like me, you may have seen these headlines, not read the articles, but thought, "That sounds right." I'm not a social scientist who can parse the accuracy of these studies (which for the most part, sound dubious due to the time span and small samples of the studies).
But still, it feels true, right?
Maybe you’re someone who’s never really watched short-form videos, but you know what TikTok is and have read the warnings about a generation whose attention has been captured by misinformation and rage bait. That used to be me.
Don’t get me wrong, I have always been able to waste time online with the best of them, but I’ve always been more of a text-based consumer. Even when I watch videos, it’s usually listening to long explainers on YouTube while cooking or trying to fall asleep. It’s embarrassing to admit, but part of me probably felt a little superior. Sure, I rot my brain on political news and silly content, but at least I have to read it.
Of course, a bigger part of me knew I could easily become addicted to short-form video. And I was right.
At work, I had to create a plan to incorporate short-form video into our media strategy. While a few friends had sent me TikToks, I’d never been a regular user. I didn’t understand the allure of the infinite scroll, how cleverly the algorithm tailors content, or how simple it is to make your own snappy videos, like my friends at the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources:
And so, I got with the times and started scrolling on Instagram Reels every day or so to see what the people want (because my workplace bans TikTok, thank god for small miracles).
To answer the question, does this stuff rot your brain? Well I have a data point of one that suggests, yeah, it sure can! It's winter, things are A LOT right now, and turning your brain off to content is so tempting. Why read, create, engage when there is scrolling?
I thought a nice bridge from cooking my brain on video content to getting back to writing would be to share what my algorithm turned into, a sort of penance.
One theme that absolutely dominates my feed is nostalgia. It’s everywhere on social media, and while it was fun at first, the millennial nostalgia loop got repetitive fast. Yes, I remember low-rise jeans and trashy MTV reality shows, I was there.
But sometimes the algorithm gets too specific. Most American millennials love The Goofy Movie, so seeing Powerline content isn’t surprising. But how does Meta know I used to annoy my brother with a palm leaf during Mass?
They clearly know I live in Wisconsin (I’m not nearly careful enough with data privacy). But do they also know I worked in tourism, and are they mocking me for it?
On social media, you can really feel the death of the monoculture. It’s no longer true that a handful of shows, books, or songs unite us all. We can now all find our own corner of fandom and media, and that "thing everyone is talking about" is only for the extremely online, and even they are self selecting into smaller and more obscure niches.
Because of this, if you come on to an online space you don’t regularly inhibit, it feels like you’re entering the middle of a conversation and entire trends have passed you by. You know the song The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot? The 1970s song about the maritime disaster that killed 29 men in Lake Superior? Well here's a video that's meta commentary on the overwhelming amount of Edmund Fitzgerald memes and jokes:
The world is just passing me by. Is this what middle age is like?
Speaking of unfathomable tragedy, I didn't take to the news and political content at first. Because of the way it's delivered, most of it just made me angry or sad while not learning anything new. You can’t easily follow links for context, so nuance gets lost.
But then I found some things that actually worked. Bite-sized local news clips were digestible and surprisingly informative, like one about Wisconsin’s shortage of election clerks:
And you stumble across odd local gems, such as this excellent piece of journalism explaining how farmers can now see what a cow sees:
And there is definitely thoughtful content, like Jamelle Bouie talking about how Americans are growing cynical and gullible, thanks in part to the way we consume content:
And you got me, I still like a little political content here and there:
As a government gal, I also really love earnest local government videos. There seems to be a huge amount of local libraries just trying their best, and it's so endearing:
And a shout out to the feds that haven’t been fully compromised, you have agencies like NASA making great informative videos, like this one on the pathway of Artemis:
Since this is an honest look at my feed, you might be wondering: where are the dumb videos? Who am I trying to fool here?
For videos aimed at my demographic, the funny skit video is incredibly popular. This is what I would get sent by friends occasionally, and they were usually very funny! However, when you use the app regularly, the “relatable humor” or one-off jokes that make you laugh get repeated. In fact, I would say the funnier they are, the more likely that joke gets done to death, either by the same creator milking a hit post or copy cats (usually both).
For example, a skit about unhinged LinkedIn posts really got me laughing. Now I’ve seen a dozen versions, but none quite as good as the original:
Sharing what you find funny is oddly vulnerable. In the effort of transparency, here are some quick hits of videos that, for better or worse, made me laugh out loud.
There’s this one:
This:
And this:
I never have and never will claim to have a sophisticated sense of humor.
For those of us who have been extremely online for over a decade, you may remember the goats that scream like humans. When my husband was just my boyfriend, he sent me the video of goats screaming in the middle of a Taylor Swift song, explaining it was the funniest thing ever.
Now, this is my daughter's favorite video of all time:
David is proud and still maintains it's hilarious.
(And yes, you’re right to judge what kind of parent I am that my eight-year-old even has a favorite video. I’ll accept that and will sit in that judgement.)
As I try my best to step away from my little screen and try to just watch a bigger screen or finally finish my overdue library book, I don’t know how to feel about this accidental experiment. On the one hand, I do think companies like Meta are doing an evil and disservice to the world with these products.
Recently, Meta lost in court in a case on social media addiction. In the past, they’ve protected themselves on free speech grounds. But this case argued that they knowingly made a harmful product. The addiction was baked in and actively harming children for profit.
On the other hand, a lot of my feed is taken up by very talented people finding an outlet for their art. I love theater, but rarely get to go, and I’m constantly impressed by performers using short-form video to showcase their work.
Still, my brain just can’t handle the format. I’d open the app, look up, and realize an hour had evaporated.
So I’m stepping back. I’ll stay off short-form video as much as I can, hold off on giving my daughter a smartphone until high school, and rely on my friends to send me the best videos. My attention span might be broken, but at least my personal curators have exquisite taste.
Muppet content, I think I’ll miss you most of all.