Tik Tok's Siren Song: All That Time...For What Exactly?
You know, I've been watching young people lately, and something's bothering me. It's these phones. They're glued to their hands. And what are they looking at? Mostly, it seems, at short videos of people doing silly things, lip-syncing, or attempting dangerous stunts that are likely to end with a trip to the emergency room. They call it "Tik Tok." I call it a black hole.
My neighbor's son, Timmy, is a Tik Tok "star." Or so he tells me. He spends hours a day filming himself doing… well, I'm not entirely sure what he's doing. He dances. He pulls faces. He attempts to make sandwiches while wearing a blindfold. I asked him how many followers he has. "Only 3,000," he said, deflated. "But I'm hoping to go viral!" He then proceeded to film himself attempting a backflip off the porch railing. I went inside.
But here's what really gets me. It's the time. All that time. Hours upon hours, scrolling, watching, making these little videos. Time that could be spent reading a book, learning a skill, talking to another human being face-to-face. Time that could be used to, you know, build something. Instead, it's being poured into this digital vortex, chasing fleeting moments of "viral" fame. Fame that will last about as long as it takes to wipe the crumbs off your chin.
I decided to download Tik Tok myself, just to see what all the fuss was about. The algorithm immediately decided I was fascinated by cats playing the piano and teenagers pouring buckets of ice water on each other. I was bombarded with tutorials on how to apply makeup using only a spoon and a spatula. I'm not sure I'm qualified to comment on the spoon, but I really do wonder why not use a brush. I finally gave up when a video popped up of a squirrel doing the Macarena. I'm serious. A squirrel. Doing the Macarena. The internet has broken me.
And what does all this time spent on Tik Tok produce? Does it make us smarter? Kinder? More informed? I doubt it. It seems to mostly produce anxiety, envy, and a burning desire to find the perfect filter to make your face look slightly less like your face. We're all chasing likes and views, desperate for validation from strangers we'll never meet.
Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe Tik Tok is the future of art, of communication, of human connection. Or maybe it's just a highly effective way to distract ourselves from the meaninglessness of existence while simultaneously eroding our attention spans. I don't know. But I do know this: I'm pretty sure that squirrel is going to have a long and successful career. And I'm going to go find a good book. It might not have dancing squirrels, but at least it won't make me feel quite so…empty.
So there you have it. Hours wasted, brains numbed, and a world flooded with videos of cats playing the piano. Is this progress? I'm not so sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go yell at a cloud. It seems like a more productive use of my time.