Among the most eccentric Internet trends, we have…Mukbang.
This viral phenomenon involves eating enormous quantities of food while filming yourself.
You might wonder: Why do the creators choose to broadcast such a common act?
What really fascinates the audience?
In order to answer these questions, we must firstly explore the origins of Mukbang.
How was Mukbang born?
Mukbang was born in South Korea. It is not a surprise, considering that the country gives a great importance to food, but this isn’t it! In Korean culture, sharing meals between family or friends is very common. Therefore, loneliness wasn’t perceived in a welcoming angle.
However in the 2010’s, Korea experienced a social shift: more and more people were starting to live alone, because of the decrease in marriages (as well as the increase of divorce and migration). Many solitary people came with the idea of broadcasting themselves while eating their meals. As a consequence, they created an actual online community.
Mukbang quickly became popular, as the BJs (Broadcast Jockeys, or Mukbangers) were known as full-time celebrities. In 2015, the Mukbang phenomenon has grown in the United States. Today, it is considered a worldly practice; anyone can post their delicious meals on YouTube. Likewise, anyone can choose the broadcaster with whom to spend time, even though it all happens in the virtual sphere. Are we then moving towards a new form of parasocial interaction?
Digital loneliness and its influence on Mukbang
We saw that Mukbang was born from a desire to connect with others. However, in the 2010’s, the evolution of new technologies has caused a radical shift in our ways of communicating. In fact, according to Sherry Turkle, the professor of social studies, we interact more and more by text. Therefore, our empathy is diminished. In text messages and instantaneous networks, the body language and the speaker’s voice are absent ; the human context is missed.
Therefore, Mukbang is bringing a new form of connection, different to the rigidity of Facebook and Instagram posts. The videos last between 10 minutes and several hours, which showcase the duration of a meal.
The screen might break the illusion of a face-to-face conversation, but the Mukbang creator finds new ways to reinforce the proximity with their followers.
- First bite! — By putting the food in front of the camera, we are given the impression that we can taste the meal. It’s as if we were in the same room, at the same table. The screen is supposedly non-existent.
- Live videos — Mukbang was originally live. This concept is still relevant, especially in Korea. The AfreecaTV platform allows the creators to directly interact with their fans, by replying to their messages on the chat.
- Personal questions and asking for advice — On pre-recorded YouTube videos, the creators tend to talk about personal topics: there aren’t messages from viewers to interrupt them so they are left with themselves. Then, to reinforce the illusion of connection, many of them talk about their private life.
- Alone physically, connected digitally — Although collaborations exist, the majority of Mukbang creators eat alone. Many of them don’t hesitate to address the topic of loneliness. Besides the tasty meal, aren’t they also sharing the feeling of isolation? Paradoxically, this common point is what brings the Mukbangers and their followers together.
We should note that the creators have a camera in front of them ; they are watching themselves eating. Then, is Mukbang a way of connecting to oneself, instead of others? In a society where we long to escape loneliness, the Mukbanger’s monologue is disguised as a social interaction.
I share therefore I am: the quest for intimacy
In the social media world, the sharing of the Self has become a norm.
Serge Tisseron, the author of L’intimité surexposée, informs us of a new cultural term: “extimacy” (original French word: extimité). It means the desire to show oneself in public. For instance, in the French TV reality show Loft Story, we learn that you just have to show people’s lives on television for them to have a celebrity status. In fact, the audience was attracted by this new concept, in which they could finally identify with the contestants.
But for other people, Loft Story is nothing but a creepy voyeurism. Eventually, this designation has influenced the population to feel ashamed for watching such a program.
Surprisingly, Mukbang provokes the same reactions. A study shows that the participants thought it as an embarrassing and solitary activity. A participant even compared Mukbang to pornography, stating that they could not view it with another person.
Granted, eating is quite an intimate act. In the videos that I’ve analysed, I noticed that the creators tended to be concerned about their gestures. Although they might eat loudly (some even do it purposefully for the ASMR), or devour their meals aggressively (again, this is frequently made to entertain), a concern for appearance is generally seen.
Even if Mukbang aims to connect people, there is still a desire for presentation. In fact, people are conscious that they are seen throughout the screen. In her book Reclaiming Conversation, Sherry Turkle comes out with a new expression: “I share therefore I am”. It is by posting that we come to exist ; we become part of a public sphere that paradoxically feels like the most private place in the world.
Where does the line cross between private life and exposure?
The screen has its limits, of course (it is impossible to see the entire room, nor can we know what happens after the video is finished). But unexpected events might happen; elements of surprise could keep the viewers intrigued, and make them stay longer than they previously intended to.
However, more information means more voyeurism. The followers want to know more. Mukbang personalities could profit from this desire of curiosity to showcase even more of their personal life.
An ambiguous relationship between the Mukbang creator and their followers
Social media has transformed the definition of a celebrity. After all, it is possible to gain millions of followers only by displaying one’s life on the Internet.
We can understand the reason for this popularity: YouTubers seem less ‘untouchable’. In fact, they don’t need to have a particular talent. Yet they are able to attract a massive amount of followers, even more than famous singers or actors. In 2017, a study by Google even revealed that 70% of millennial YouTube followers identified more with YouTubers than with traditional celebrities.
Surprisingly, 40% of these followers said that their favourite creators understood them more than their own friends.
On one hand, YouTubers look more approachable. On the other hand, we don’t really know them, therefore we cannot identify their flaws or have a fight with them, the same way as we would do with our peers. Only a fragment of their life is exposed, and oftentimes, we believe that it is all we need to know someone entirely.
In Mukbang, this is even more obvious; the creators film their meals, and that’s it. Unless they create other types of content, the followers only have access to 2 main elements: what they eat, and what they are talking about.
In AfreecaTV, the chat comments seem like superficial chattering. Most of the time, we find questions about the food or the Mukbanger’s appearance.
This, however, has nothing to do with a friendly conversation in the physical world. Because the viewers are anonymous, some aren’t afraid of posting comments that could hurt the person.
We can therefore notice many inequalities between the Mukbang creator and the follower. Firstly, the medium is different: the creator has an audiovisual format, whereas the follower has the text. The creator doesn’t receive the same empathy; they can’t see the audience’s face. In the viewer’s case, there is a parasocial interaction in which we imagine ourselves talking with a media personality. However, if the creator actually replies to the comments, there is a two-way conversation; wouldn’t that be a real relationship?
Nonetheless, the creators don’t reply to all the comments: they choose some between hundreds of them. Besides, they are responsible for following up the conversation thread; the way they react is up to them, as well as their topic of discussion. Some prefer to focus on the food and only speak a little.
On the other hand, the followers have a lot of influence on the creator’s actions. On livestreams, many messages ask the Mukbanger to eat in a specific way. As a consequence, Mukbang is similar to a service relationship, in which the viewer eats vicariously (they only need to watch another person eat instead). Moreover, the creators in South Korea can gain a lot of money due to their followers’ donations. The relationship is therefore quite different from a friendship.
Is Mukbang a display of authenticity?
Here I’m emphasizing on the word “display”. Showing authenticity doesn’t necessarily mean being authentic.
But Mukbang reveals something crucial: the viewers are looking for intimacy, and they are not finding it on perfectly filtered Instagram pictures.
The audiovisual content leads to many senses: sight and hearing, but that’s not it. With Mukbang, smelling, tasting and even touching come into play. Although we don’t have physical access to the food, it feels real; we receive virtual, vicarious pleasure.
Moreover, many Mukbang videos aim to appear spontaneous. Even though we can notice scene cuts, they are rare compared to other YouTube content. The person eating is talking with no preparation in advance ; they don’t have a precise script. Besides, once they take their first bites, we can observe their direct reactions.
But the creators seem to know what authenticity means, and it’s precisely what attracts the viewers. Therefore, it is not the food, but rather the facial expression that counts. Many Mukbangers don’t hesitate to focus on this trait, sometimes in order to arouse fascination, which will then increase the number of views.
It should also be noted that Mukbang is not only a simple meal; most of the time, we are talking about massive quantities of fast-food. This provides interest; will the person finish everything? But then, wouldn’t they be too full? Many creators aren’t afraid to explain their discomfort due to their satiation. Others prefer to minimise this uncomfortable sensation.
To appear even more sincere, a lot of creators quickly discuss their concerns about weight. Again, we notice how physical appearance is important in Mukbang.
To sum up, social media pushes us into displaying an idealised Self. But would Mukbang be excluded from this category? Even if we are facing a display of authenticity, it remains a performance. There is a longing for human connection, but we are still interacting with a digital content: in the world of YouTube, the influencers are well-aware that more authenticity = more views.
Therefore, when we see intense emotions shown by the camera, we cannot be entirely sure about the YouTuber’s honesty. Is it a natural reaction or a ficticious act to attract the audience?
Is Mukbang an illusory connection?
Mukbang feels more authentic than the other content we see online, but in the end, do we really know the person that is eating in front of the screen?
Parasocial interaction is simply reinforced due to the audiovisual content and the spontaneous emotions.
As for the creators, they can’t really know you either. Especially as they don’t have access to their followers’ faces; only the text and the statistics are there to confirm their popularity.
However, because they are filming in front of the camera, they can watch themselves. It is therefore a conversation with their own reflection.
In the era of instantaneous messages, Mukbang reveals to us what society is silently thinking: people are dreaming of face-to-face conversations, but without the discomfort of an interaction.
This desire could also be hiding something: the fear of ourselves interacting with others in real life. The fear of discomfort and of being judged. The fear of being alone in a digitally connected world.
But being alone is often associated with the term loneliness, when it doesn’t have to be. According to Sherry Turkle, solitude is not necessarily something to be avoided, but to be embraced as a means to increase our empathy. It could potentially serve as a fuel to understand ourselves and other people better.
Sources :
- Sherry Turkle — Reclaiming Conversation, Alone Together
- Serge Tisseron — L’intimité surexposée
- Claire Lee — Why more Koreans are eating alone
- Celie O’Neil-Hart, Howard Blumenstein — Why YouTube stars are more influential than traditional celebrities
- Laurensia Anjani, Lora Oehlberg, Terrance Mok, Wooi Boon Goh, Tony Tang — Why do people watch others eat? An empirical study on the motivations and practices of mukbang viewers
- Kagan Kircaburun, Andrew Harris, Filipa Calado, Mark D. Griffiths — The Psychology of Mukbang Watching: A Scoping Review of the Academic and Non-academic Literature
- Amy McCarthy — This Korean Food Phenomenon Is Changing the Internet
- Videos that I analysed — Yiriam Corrales, Nikocado Avocado, Shugi, Banzz, ToshPointFro, Trisha Paytas, Tzuyang, BenDeen, MommyTang, Dorothy.
