How TikTok is Influencing Minds and Changing Culture
TikTok’s blueprint for success
Ask anyone under the age of 21 their most-used app, and you’re likely to hear the same name pop up again and again:
TikTok.
The short-video sharing app has captured the attention of billions around the globe in half the time it took more established social media apps such as Facebook and Instagram to gain traction. Short, easy-to-digest clips of people lip-syncing, practising a comedy routine, or teaching a science lesson have proven a massive hit with the youth of today, and the app has created a new generation of bonafide celebrities famous for entertaining people in under a minute. TikTok provides a platform upon which anyone can be a star, provided they have the so-called right mix of looks, talent, and relatability.
Delve beneath the hype, however, and a more disturbing picture emerges. ByteDance’s status as a Chinese company leads to heavy-handed censorship of content deemed “inappropriate”, TikTok’s algorithm knows your likes and dislikes better than your own mother, and a generation of young people are being left overwhelmed with the stunning combination of racist, sexualised and unrealistic content pushed by the app.
So, what is TikTok, how does it function, and how has it taken the world by storm?
From Beijing to California:
TikTok began its life as Douyin, the brainchild of Beijing-based company ByteDance. Interested in the intersection between Internet services and artificial intelligence, Douyin enabled users to create, share and view 15-second clips of lip-syncing, dancing, and comedy skits, all processed by an algorithm that filtered out what you didn’t like. Though initially finding it tough to prosper in a market already saturated with competitors, following a heavy marketing campaign in 2017, Douyin began to gain traction across Asia. By the end of 2018, Douyin had 400 million monthly users in China alone.
Expanding into the global market had always been part of ByteDance’s plan. Founder, Zhang Yiming, was quoted saying “China is home to only one-fifth of Internet users globally. If we don’t expand on a global scale, we are bound to lose to peers eyeing the four-fifths. So, going global is a must”.
It was this strategy that led to ByteDance setting its sights on Musical.ly, the most popular video-sharing app in North America at the time. The advantages of buying them out were twofold for the company. They could eliminate their biggest competitors overseas, and tap into the rich market of American teenagers infatuated with the style of content Musical.ly allowed them to make. In 2018, Musical.ly was bought for an eye-watering $1 billion by ByteDance. The takeover was swift and efficient, with users’ accounts automatically switched over to keep them on the platform. Douyin remained available in China, whilst a separate app that we all now know as TikTok was launched globally. The app’s ascension continued in 2018, as it overtook Facebook, YouTube and Instagram to become the world’s most downloaded app. Having noticed how popular TikTok was becoming, others tried to replicate its meteoric rise, with Facebook’s Lasso and Snapchat’s “Lens Challenge” fading into irrelevancy over time. As of 2020, TikTok has over 2 billion users in more than 150 markets, a staggering proliferation for an app that only entered the global market two years ago.
TikTok’s Blueprint for Success:
What exactly is it about TikTok that makes it so addictive? Many reasons. The content created on Tiktok is funny, relatable, and even cringe-worthy — but above all it’s entertaining, and it’s the unvarnished feel of these homemade comedy skits or lip-syncing battles that appeals to people — they directly contradict the curated galleries found on Instagram.
What’s more, anyone can join the community on TikTok. There’s no hierarchy — you don’t have to be an “influencer” for content you make to go viral on the app. As long as you have a funny idea, or can sing, or possess some other talent that people would be willing to sacrifice 15 seconds of their lives to watch, you can enjoy your time in the limelight. The app fosters creation with its supply of filters, effects, and audio clips that are offered up to users.
The other part of TikTok that explains its popularity is more technical. The algorithm built into the app is incredibly intelligent and has more of a role to play than in other well-known social media apps. What distinguishes TikTok from competitors is that it is the app itself, not you, that chooses the content you see. It studies you. It learns what you like — and more importantly, what you don’t. How long you watch, what you like, how quickly you swipe off a video — all of these markers are collected, stored and analysed to give users the most pleasurable experience and to keep them watching for as long as possible. This all leads to a For You page that is unique to the user, with videos tailored to your specific tastes. Facebook and YouTube have algorithms too, but it was ultimately up to the user what they wanted to see through who they friended or subscribed to. Not here.
It isn’t just the algorithm that makes this app so enticing. There are other design tweaks present to keep the brain interested. The For You page scrolls endlessly, never running out of the content you might enjoy. Videos play automatically, effectively making users’ minds up for them. Though TikTok made a token effort in installing software on the app that users can set up to curb their screen time, it would be unwise to assume that this would do much to mitigate the hours spent scrolling.
What TikTok wants you to believe:
TikTok, like many social media apps before it, found as it grew in popularity that it faced several difficult scenarios concerning how it allowed its platform to be used to explore social issues. The question became a pressing one: would they allow free speech on their platform? TikTok’s response was steadfast: it instructed its moderators to ban anything pertaining to separatism or conflict, be it religious or ethnic. The app drew heavy criticism when it deleted 17-year-old Feroza Aziz’s TikTok decrying China’s internment of millions of minority Muslims in concentration camps. It wasn’t an isolated incident either. Coverage of the Hong Kong protests was extremely scarce on the app, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere around the moderation of content. Many now suspect that the powerful Chinese government exerts influence on the company, advising it against the sharing of content that would undermine those in power in any way.
TikTok curates more than just current events. Moderation documents released in March 2020 exposed the strict policies the app maintains when it comes to both the cosmetic appearance of the users and overall aesthetics. Anyone deemed to have an “abnormal body shape”, be too thin or overweight, or just downright “ugly” are suppressed by moderators. To add to these stringent criteria, any videos in which the shooting environment is in any way dilapidated or run-down are funnelled away from the coveted For You page. The top priority for an app like TikTok is to grow and retain its user base. To keep the videos attractive and entertaining, subjectively unattractive, poor and disabled people are pushed to the bottom of the pile. These actions paint those in charge at TikTok as hypocritical. They wish for their app to be seen as a bastion of self-expression and creativity, where anything goes, but at the same time stifle anything that reminds people of the real world. Not everyone is pretty, well-off or living in a democratic society. You wouldn’t know that perusing your For You page, that’s for sure.
TikTok’s influence on the World:
TikTok’s meteoric rise to fame has brought about several noticeable changes in the medium of entertainment. Take music, for example. It has never been easier for a relatively unknown songwriter to strike gold with his creations than in the 21st century TikTok stratosphere. Users of the app are constantly scouring through music (new and old) in the hopes of finding a snippet of something that is either fun to dance to, lip-sync to, or can be used as the punchline for some self-deprecating joke. Take GoldLink’s “Crew”. Though unlikely to win any awards, the song was repurposed and the catchy chorus used in a trend where people recreated well-known pictures in pop culture. Look at the YouTube comments on the original song now, and 80% of them ask “Who’s here from TikTok?”
These fundamental changes in how users interact with music haven’t gone unnoticed by those already well-known. Drake, a musician who owes much of his success to the virality of his songs, didn’t even try to mask his true intentions with his release of “Toosie Slide” in April 2020. The song just about makes it to the 25-second mark before instructing you to follow a set of dreary dance moves, supposedly aimed at everyone from 11-year-olds to someone’s grandmother. And it worked. The Toosie Slide Dance Challenge was established on TikTok, and the song has been streamed over 350 million times on Spotify. It isn’t about the quality of the music on TikTok anymore. It’s about how quickly it can capture the rapidly shrinking attention spans of Gen Zs.
The art of dance has also seen a surge in popularity thanks to the format of TikTok. On apps such as Instagram and YouTube, dancing is the realm of professionals or established enthusiasts, and there is the associated pressure of releasing content that is up to standard. That pressure doesn’t exist on TikTok. The one minute limit leaves you just enough time to get into the dance, have fun, and then stop. The dances that become popular facilitate this time frame nicely. They are usually hard enough that you feel you’ve accomplished something by learning them but fall short of demanding a lot of time to master, something that would turn the average user off the idea and therefore reduce the virality of the dance. Take K Camp’s “Lottery”, for example, the song that spawned the now-famous “Renegade” dance trend. It lasts about 15 seconds, involves a lot of complicated arm work, and fits perfectly into the portrait mode of an iPhone. These dances aren’t impressive to professionals — that’s not their purpose. It’s their universality that appeals to the masses. Once a dance becomes trendy, anyone and everyone can join in the fun.
You can’t discuss the changes in culture that TikTok has brought about without mentioning the fact that Los Angeles has become a hotbed for groups of teenagers famous on TikTok to congregate and live together, often residing in palatial mansions. The most famous of these groups is the “Hype House”, set up by content creators Thomas Petrou and Chase Hudson at the beginning of 2020. With the backing of talent agencies, the content creators living in these houses pay rent by filming up to three videos a day. With the prices of some of these mansions set at $11,000 per month or more, only the most influential TikTokers are associated with the house, even if that isn’t explicitly mentioned in the criteria.
Since the announcement of the Hype House way back in January, the inevitable feuds have since taken place, spawning several different mansions of similar grandeur all intent on cashing in on the same thing: the captive attention of their audience. If you take a step back from it all and look at it for what it is, it’s a mind-boggling business plan. These teenagers, (many of them as young as 16) post generic clips of themselves either singing or dancing — it’s always one or the other — in their sun-kissed, house-on-the-hills settings, and make vast amounts of money through lucrative live streams or sponsorships. To give you just an idea: Charli D’Amelio, the undisputed queen of TikTok, has over 60 million followers on TikTok at 16 years old. She can make up to $50,000 per post. Never before has it been so easy for the youth of today to make so much money doing so little.
At the end of the day, these houses are businesses, and they’re certainly run that way. Though content creators make a living portraying a carefree version of their lives, there are strict rules at places like the Hype House. Take it from the founder, Thomas Petrou. “If someone slips up constantly, they’ll not be a part of this team anymore,” Thomas said. “You can’t come and stay with us for a week and not make any videos, it’s not going to work. This whole house is designed for productivity. If you want to party, there’s hundreds of houses that throw parties in L.A. every weekend”.
(And if that quote didn’t get the message across, check this video out).
The dangerous side to TikTok:
When an app has 800 million active users worldwide, there is going to be a dark side — and TikTok is no different.
The attention spans of teenagers today weren’t exactly noteworthy to begin with (thanks largely to the era of instant gratification we all live in), and TikTok exacerbates this problem tenfold. Videos are rarely longer than 20 seconds on the app, and the never-ending nature of the For You page means these bite-sized chunks of dopamine keep coming one after the other until users are left with the attention span of a chimpanzee. Ironically, there was even a viral TikTok made about it.
Some teenagers on the app have become far too comfortable. Since TikTok moderators only really seem to care about censoring politically driven messages and ugly people, everything else is fair game. Young people animatedly overshare details of their sex lives, dance provocatively in front of a camera, and generally attempt to create any sort of content they deem to contain the shock value needed to gain clout on the app. This is dangerous for a multitude of reasons. Nothing can be removed from the Internet once it is put there, a fact these hormonal teens seem to forget. It might seem fun to make risqué content when you’re 16 and are in desperate need of validation from others over the Internet, but it won’t be a laughing matter when potential employers search the Internet and find them. Curating one’s online profile carefully is a genuine requirement in the 21st century.
Due to the accessibility of the app itself and the ease of distribution, racist content is prevalent on TikTok. Many users attempt to disguise blatant racism as “dark humour” in the various challenges that go around on the app. It’s the well-established power the Internet gives people. They say and do things online they wouldn’t dream of doing in real life, and TikTok is this concept on steroids. Thankfully, real life occasionally catches up with users who partake in these discriminatory trends. Exhibit A:
Perhaps the most insidious part of TikTok is the narrative it pushes to young teens. When you’re just beginning adolescence, how you look and how you’re perceived by people is extremely important. Avid users of TikTok just beginning this journey are constantly bombarded with video reminders that they don’t have clear skin, a sharp jawline or lots of friends — whatever it may be. If all you’re ever seeing is good looking people lip-syncing songs while hanging out with their other good looking friends, you’re going to start thinking there’s something wrong with you for not sharing their lifestyles. And it’s not as if you have much control over the matter either. You could be watching the videos full of envy or enjoyment, it doesn’t matter — TikTok will keep funnelling content like that onto your feed. Suggestible teens using the app would do well to remember and remind themselves that life outside of social media is a far cry from the heavily curated content TikTok pushes.
TikTok isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Its combination of instant gratification and accessibility ensures that it’ll remain popular with teenagers and young adults for some time. However, the next time you open the app, remember this article. Remember that its algorithm is constantly examining you and collecting your data. Remember that TikTok would rather use its massive platform to stifle the voices of those pushing for change. And above all else, remember that TikTok (like all other social media) is showing you the highlight reel of people’s lives — it ruthlessly filters out anything that doesn’t adhere to that narrative.
