Play First: Sincerity on social media is giving rise to new forms of content
Last week, I wrote about how my generation is trading nihilistic irony and defensive detachment for honesty, self-belief and earnestness. How we are ridding the baggage of young adulthood (where a fear of perception teaches us to hide certain parts of ourselves), to approach life instead with openness, revealing what we care about, what we enjoy and what we feel without shame or concern of being ‘cringe’.
And this shift is impacting the way we interact with each other online. Whilst, ironically, social media was the root cause for Gen Z’s hyper self-awareness, it has now become the theatre where true authenticity and unbridled self-exposure are playing out. This was first evident on TikTok, where creators started to post honest videos of themselves sharing the most intimate parts of their lives; the parts that make us human. Gaining popularity during COVID, the app signalled a broader reckoning among young people: a realisation that the world is much bigger than likes, followers, and aesthetically pleasing photo dumps. (A global pandemic will do that to you.)
Of course, TikTok is not completely immune to the ‘perfection’ complex of Instagram (there is often a ‘pretty privilege’ at play when it comes to who can and cannot over-share embarrassing details about themselves), but nonetheless, it felt drastically more open than its predecessor – perhaps more similar to the wild west of Snap stories back in the day.
And so honesty flourished online, with creators who felt real and ‘relatable’ succeeding over those who didn’t. But eventually, we began to see holes in that. If someone is holding a camera up to themselves and choosing which stories to reveal, there is still a degree of performativity taking place. The performance of ‘authenticity’. Very quickly, we learned certain mannerisms or ways of speaking that felt more candid, but how candid can one be when you have complete control over the video?
.jpg)
More recently, there has been an even greater push to find true authenticity online, with two key types of content experiencing a surge in popularity as a result. The first is the influencer group: people like @cinnamonpoptartttt on TikTok (who posts videos of her and her girls hungover in New York on a Sunday) or @cabagges (a couple that cooks dinner together).
Viewing these relationships feels as though you are getting a behind-the-scenes glimpse at someone’s life, without the filter of a screen. It feels intimate, spontaneous and informal; fostering a new level of parasocial attachment, where audiences feel they are friends with the creators themselves.
The second type of content is the street interview (AKA the vox pop). Of course, the vox pop has been around for a while now, but never does it feel more relevant than today, with obvious examples including @subwaytakes and @meetcutesnyc, as well as more localised creators such as @stxphnotsteve and @thedepartmentofinformation.
These videos, among others, produce what feels like the most authentic content on the internet right now. No one is pretending to be anything they are not. The camera is acknowledged. The conversation, however, is completely unplanned and unconstrained (there may be an initial prompt, but what follows is unexpected – with the most unforeseen results usually gaining the most virality).
One creator that has experienced success from this growing appreciation for raw, honest and spontaneous content is food influencer Nicholas Nuven. With 1 million followers on Instagram and 2.6 million on TikTok, the Colombian-born, New York-raised vlogger chats to food vendors around his home city and further afield about the food they love and the stories behind it.
His approachable nature and commitment to building a relationship with his interview subjects (he often returns to the same restaurant multiple times) softens people in a way that feels genuinely intimate and not at all voyeuristic, and they often invite him into their homes for more conversation.
The personal anecdotes and nuggets of wisdom that flow from these interactions are a beautiful representation of normal life, touching on everything from faith to relationships, grief and gentrification. They are moments that elicit deeply emotional responses in Nicholas’ audience, as revealed by the comments, and highlight the importance of community, immigration and local businesses.
They are, in essence, simple moments of human connection, where two strangers find commonality and understanding in shared experience. Nothing is planned, and Nicholas takes the lead of his guests. In these times of polarity, the ability to foster moments like these will be the difference between creating content that feels purposeful and that which feels like ‘slop’. Content that arouses empathy and draws lines of unity between those who are vastly unalike. And content that feels genuinely candid and mirrors the ebbs and flows of real life.