Do you remember 2007? The internet recalls it as a long, depressing list of earthquakes, fires, collapsing bridges and leveraged takeovers. I remember it as the year Shilpa Shetty won Big Brother, the original Bigggg Bosss (add and subtract consonants as needed). A time when reality television was at its peak.
I was living in London then, and every morning on the way into work I would pick up a discarded tabloid and read sensational headlines about immigrants, obesity and tax cuts. Serious stories whose seriousness was made aware to the reader by headlines in blood red. All caps.
One headline screamed “WAG and Reality TV Star Top List of Career Choices for Young Girls!” I tut tutted in shock as was expected and then quickly moved on to Shetty’s latest shenanigans in the Big Brother homestead.
Just over a decade later, being a WAG or Reality TV show winner is passe. Our children now want to be YouTube stars and vloggers. Careers seen as pathways to instant stardom and money.
In our home, my children watch these internet sensations on weird shows that make no sense. One stars a young man who plays video games and shares blow-by-blow accounts of what he is doing. Sample: “I am collecting bricks” “I am slaying a vampire” “I am spawning a wolf from a dog” “Oh no! Help!” My children love these shows even though to me they seem tedious and boring.
You see, I have to watch these shows too, after a long form article (which was also a little tedious and boring) insisted that terrible things would happen to my children’s brains if they watched random videos on social media platforms. But it’s not the algorithms I’m worried about, it’s the sheer dud quality of the content. Nothing is more likely to dull the brain than watching other people do things which, hey! you could be doing if you weren’t watching them do it.
Of course it was inevitable that my boys soon wanted to star in their own show. It was an easy decision. No. While their age and safety are the main reasons for not letting them, I also have a larger altruistic reason. It’s about saving the world from mediocre content.
How do I know it will be mediocre?
Me: “What will your channel be about?”
Them: “Minecraft.”
Me: “What will you say?”
Them: “That it’s awesome!” (this was accompanied by an eye-roll, because ‘d-uh!’).
Me: “What else?”
Them: “We’ll play our band’s compositions!”
Dear reader, their band has two members. Just the two of them. The compositions are called ‘Hi to Low’ and ‘Song 2’ and have one line only. Remember, you read about the Oasis of Outer Ring Road here first.
Me: “Why can’t we just put this stuff on Amma’s Instagram account?”
Them: “How many followers do you have? Can we charge people to watch the videos?”
Me: “If I could make money off my Instagram account, don’t you think I’d be doing that already?”
Them: “Maybe your photos are too boring. No one wants to see pictures of flowers and what you’re wearing Amma. Try cat and dog pictures!”
Kids, you totally have a future in Social Media. Sign me up as your first client.
Menaka Raman
Twitter@menakaraman
The writer’s philosophy is: if there’s no blood, don’t call me