The Death of YouTube And Why We’re Dying With It

The minute I got home from school, I would reach for my laptop, searching for the familiar white and red icon that brought me to my favorite site: YouTube. I spent hours, like many others, devouring the content YouTube offered. There were countless options—vlogs, DIY videos, video game streaming, etc. Within each form of content, there was a larger world that ensured everyone could find something entertaining. In 2016, the platform was my go-to streaming service. Now, in 2023, I rarely find myself gravitating towards it, instead choosing Netflix, Hulu, or even a book.

Before I continue, I would like to mention that I am aware YouTube is still widely successful to this day, even if I personally do not use it as much. YouTube continues to remain one of the largest leading platforms with 2.7 billion active users in 2023. Despite its hold on users, however, it still falls short in the industry when compared to newer rising apps like TikTok.

To start, let’s trace YouTube back to its very first video, “Me at the zoo.” The video lasts a short nineteen seconds, but captures the simplicity and purity of life—something we seem to lack nowadays. In nineteen seconds, creator Jawed wholesomely shares his adoration for elephants with the world: “The cool thing about these guys is that they have really really really long trunks and that’s cool [pauses to look at elephants again] and that’s pretty much all there is to say.” The footage is raw, unedited, and real. When I say real I mean it’s capturing life in its most basic yet beautiful form. There’s no faking it for views—the concept of virality nonexistent.

However, in tandem with the human species, YouTube has evolved. Its initially simple foundation has branched into a complex network exhibiting nearly every interest one can have. But, this also means the platform is a victim to our greedy nature. With the increased inclusion of sponsored videos and paid endorsements, YouTube has become more commercialized than ever. Influencers and content creators today seek lucrative partnerships, blurring the line between genuine creativity and calculated promotion. While sponsored videos provide financial opportunities for creators, they often come at the cost of compromising their authenticity for monetary gain—further impacting our ability and experience with consuming media content. 

As a result, the main motivation behind creators to publish content has altered from passion to profit. We see this idea reflected in clickbaited covers and headlines. The point of these is to lure users into the video for more views. Users are drawn in with an overexaggeration of what the content truly possesses. But it works. So influencers continue to use them. Somewhere along the way, we lost the core of YouTube. 

The issue is that through these clickbait titles, we are simultaneously encouraging superficial content, promoting surface-level engagement which ultimately deteriorates our capability to delve deeply and critically into content. If we do not practice our ability to think critically, we lose it and within that, our capacity for complex thought and emotion. This shift in YouTube’s landscape marks the loss of its original authenticity, instead replacing that sincerity with a superficiality intertwined with the never-ending desire for wealth. It all the more reveals society’s normalization for manufactured narratives and the prioritization of profit over genuinity. We have, as it seems, lost the heart of humanity to the void of the Internet, and YouTube to capitalization.

The rise of alternative social media platforms such as TikTok has also disrupted YouTube’s long-held dominance in media. TikTok, with its three-seconds to three-minute videos, has gained immense popularity as one of the most used social media apps. Other apps like Instagram, Snapchat, and even YouTube have tried replicating TikTok’s bite-sized videos in an attempt to curb decreased user engagement, though it seems the new addition has only worked for Instagram. As audiences flock to these platforms for instant entertainment, YouTube’s position as the first-choice platform for video content has been challenged. The ease in which we move from platform to platform illuminates our constant need for stimulation because of how disconnected and bored we quickly get. We see this manifest in the form of fifteen-second videos. Our attention span has only reduced and our capacity to think and feel seems to have frozen. 

In trying to avoid this, I deleted TikTok. So, instead of watching videos on YouTube for hours, I started scrolling on TikTok for hours, which eventually became scrolling on Instagram Reels for hours. I, too, have fallen prey to this black-hole. Though, however much aware I am of this addiction, the ease with which I can open an app and divert myself from these thoughts fuels it. It’s instant entertainment. The tragic part is that it is incredibly successful in not only distracting but also maintaining our need, or want, really, to be distracted. We have numbed our minds to the point where our normal is quite fabricated. 

Especially with the ongoing conflict between Palestine and Israel, it is revealed how insensitive and out of touch society has become. Our tolerance for clickbait, manufactured content, and prioritization of profit has pushed us so far away from reality that in times like now, there is a clear struggle for reliable information and sincere human decency. While people of one class are posting mirror selfies captioned, “War days (heart emoji),” others are losing loved ones. Homes. Their whole lives. Society has lost so much of our emotional awareness, intellect, and overall mental capability from the domination of the digital age. 

Our growing dependence on platforms like YouTube and TikTok risks us losing our humanity as a whole. The fall of the former signifies our failure to maintain its original use, as we’ve transformed it into a corporation that sells rather than shares, and our quick shift from it highlights our aptness to easily detach. YouTube’s slow decline symbolizes much more than the loss of a platform; it also indicates the threat of humanity’s disappearance. 

Jamie Huang

Jamie Huang is a freshman in Liberal Studies planning to major in MCC and minor in Creative Writing. Her favorite things: music, chocolate-covered strawberries, books, her dog (Bear), the stars/nature/forests!!, sunsets, jewelry, her perfumes (will be gatekeeping), shopping, McDonald's after a night out, lip glosses, concerts, and traveling.

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