There's Too Much Damn Content

As always, we can point the blame at one thing - engagement metrics

Image: “It’s all noise” / Badly edited by author

As a society, we love to talk about the latest buzzy thing — a movie, a song, a TV show, a dumb viral TikTok dance, a podcast, whatever it may be. Many people are guilty of wrapping their whole identities around being seen to watch, listen and know what’s “in.” We want to share in these moments and live through them together. They also provide ample small talk to save us from awkward voids of silence in workplaces, social gatherings and the dining table. 

Yet a typical conversation with me about anything in this bracket — let’s call it cultural content — goes a little something like this;

Them: “Have you seen that show? It’s so good.” 

Me: “No, I’ll add it to my list.” 

Them: “Have you heard that new podcast? It’s amazing.” 

Me: “No, I’ll add it to my list.” 

Them: “Have you seen that new movie? It’s a 10/10.” 

Me: “No, I’ll add it to my list.” 

My list is full. Well, it would be. But I’ve got a confession to make — there is no list. There is no back catalog of the things that set our culture ablaze, no collection of the things that triggered insane cult followings, and no notes of everything that broke the Internet. When I tell you I’m adding it to my list, what I’m really saying is, “Thanks for the recommendation, but I ain’t got time for that.” 

I used to have time for that.

But something changed. 

And that change is the same change that is killing social media and making the Internet a shittier place — the push to engagement metrics. 

The usual culprits are to blame here. Greedy boardroom execs, venture capitalists, and the continued shift from consumer value to shareholder value. It all comes down to share price, and that line better go up, or else. These days, all that matters is minutes watched or whether a film will track for a billion dollars. Notice how a platform like Netflix never talks about anything other than “this content is now the most watched thing?” What does that even mean? How many minutes does that work out too? What about the quality, how long people stick with it, or if it has driven subscribers?(Something Netflix will soon stop reporting to focus on, you guessed it, engagement.)

The only metric anyone cares about is engagement.

When they report that it’s good, their company value increases.

To drive that engagement, media companies in all industries have turned to volume at all costs — quantity over quality. Throw enough shit at the wall, and something will stick until eventually it too doesn’t, and it’ll get canceled before it concludes. The “number of eyeballs metric” dropped by a percentage point? Send it to the cutting room floor and move onto to next one.

We’re in a world of content that’s mass-produced, mass-enginereed and mass-released at a scale never seen before. Liked that god-awful program about the real-but-not-real estate agents selling expensive houses? Here’s another 100 variations. Liked that movie about the superheros? Here’s an entire universe built around it — and TV shows to boot — but the catch is that each will get progressively worse. Liked that murder mystery podcast? Well, here’s a hundred more, all covering the same murders. 

Or what I hate the most — the nostalgia bating. More and more content is just reboots, cameos, and feature artists, all done not for artistic merit but to generate engagement. Oh, I remember that! Oh, I know who that is! All are designed to get you plugged in and engaged. What I hate even more is the content designed by the algorithm. I mean, read that line back. Some paint-by-numbers shit made to tick enough boxes that it’ll create a juiced-up product that appeals to the biggest audience. Call me naive, but surely that’s not the kind of content we want to consume with the limited time we have to do so? 

The sheer volume of it has left me unable to keep up. Worse, when I actually decide to watch something, I’m overwhelmed, almost paralyzed. I can’t decide, and I spend so long looking through options, scrolling, flicking, tapping, watching trailers and reading synopses, that in the end, I choose something I’ve already consumed or choose nothing at all. I knew it had gotten bad when platforms offered a literal “pick me something at random” option. If that isn’t an indicator of how overwhelmed we are, I don’t know what is. 

The obsession with engagement metrics has had an unexpected consequence though — most of these platforms are now struggling.

There are too many streaming platforms and too much content. Rather than eat each other, they're merging to survive. Eventually, they will become one big cable channel with ads (so much for disruption). 

The film industry has cannibalized itself, ruling films to be failures if they don’t rake in billions of dollars. The result is that most films are now sent to digital or streaming within weeks, all to drive this magical engagement — but it’s killing the box office, and movie theatres are struggling (yes, they have their own set of issues, but shortening the exclusivity window they have for films to almost nothing won’t help). It can only be a matter of time before they disappear altogether. 

The podcast industry is so saturated that only a small percentage get visibility, let alone success, because everyone in the world has one. (There are over 4 million.) Podcast companies have also been merging or seeking exclusivity deals with bigger fish like Spotify, but they have done little to help except fill Joe Rogan’s already fat wallet.

In a way, the blame for my disconnect falls on me. 

I decided I won’t sacrifice my health, my time, or social hours with friends and family to keep up with content. Over the last few years, I’ve accepted that this tidal wave of cultural content is passing me by, and will continue to do so as long as its pushed out at this breakneck speed and volume. Binge-consuming ain’t my jam. Sure, I miss out on being part of a collective, and most of the time, I’ve not got a fucking clue what anyone is talking about or referring too, but I’ve made my peace.

I’m that weird guy who hasn’t seen your favorite show — and I’m okay with that.