Commentary: TikTok isn't the reason we watch ‘slop'

CNA

5 hours ago

NEW YORK: Social media is often the scapegoat for just about everything wrong in modern society. The latest thing it's getting blamed for is 'slop'. Originally, the term refers to the pervasiveness of low-quality AI-generated content that is flooding social feeds, but it has turned into a catch-all for much of today's subpar products and content.
Laying all of this at the feet of social platforms is a mistake, though. Slop is not a new phenomenon. Each generation can point to moments in which the old guard decried that the latest media or gadget was brain-rotting sludge.
In my lifetime, it's been everything from hip-hop and grunge music to the rise of reality television to violent video games, such as Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto, to the Blackberry – which was so addictive it was nicknamed Crackberry.
We should remember that when we read of society's incessant appetite for lowbrow content today. Now, has our consumption of it become more voracious because of online access? Yes. We can mindlessly scroll through our feeds, stream questionable podcasts and add fast fashion and services to our virtual carts with ease.
But the culprit is not necessarily the likes of TikTok, Instagram or YouTube. It's burnout, but we've become so accepting of brushing excessive exhaustion off as a necessary evil for achieving success that it doesn't get enough blame.
TURNING TO SLOP FOR COMFORT
A majority of millennials, 66 per cent, according to a report from Aflac, claim to feel moderate to high levels of the occupational phenomenon. Six years ago, a Gallup study found only 28 per cent of millennials reported feeling frequent or constant burnout at work.
This feeling of mental overload is commonly positioned as a consequence of unmanaged workplace stress. Being overworked is hardly new. In fact, the Maslach Burnout Inventory, a standardised and quantitative way to measure the sensation, was developed in the early 1980s.
Nearly four decades later, the World Health Organization categorised it as a syndrome that results in 'feelings of energy depletion or exhaustion, increased mental distance from one's job', which could include cynicism, 'and reduced professional efficacy'.
But this definition doesn't quite encapsulate the full scope of why people end their days exhausted and turning to slop for comfort.
The suffocating pressure of modern life beyond work breeds anxiety and tension for which we need a salve. That salve often comes in the form of the same device that induces so much angst.
Millennials were indoctrinated from early adulthood to be fully accessible all the time. When it wasn't work messages lighting up phones, it was family, friends, news alerts, push notifications from apps or even spam.
This constant, attention-grabbing communication is a drain on energy and brain power – and that's before you add in caring for children, parents or pets. (We millennials do love our pets.)
Once the reviled new kids on the block tagged the 'Me Generation', the 30-to-mid-40-somethings have ascended into the position of the 'sandwich generation'. Our predecessors to this squeeze, Gen Xers, are already familiar with the exhausting and mind-numbing pressure of caring for ageing parents while raising children.
And that's before attempting to care for themselves physically, mentally and financially. It's probably why they're the second most burned-out cohort, with 55 per cent reporting experiencing moderate to high levels of the syndrome, according to the Aflac report.
THE NEW GLASS OF WINE
And yet, when life feels overwhelming or people just want to take the edge off at the end of the day, pouring a large glass of wine is no longer the go-to remedy. Several studies and surveys have shown that younger adults are drinking less compared to older generations.
Turning on a TV show – especially one that's bingeable – or lying down and scrolling through a seemingly endless supply of videos on TikTok or Instagram has taken the place of drinking alcohol.
It's a behaviour so pervasive that the term 'bed rotting' became a trend on TikTok. It means lounging in bed to rejuvenate as a form of self-care. Once again, what's old becomes new, but the bed rotting of yore didn't mean being plugged into a device that served an endless stream of short videos and memes. It probably meant reading a book or sleeping.
Against the crushing pressure of a never-ending to-do list, slop seems to calm the overworked brain and nervous system because it provides a stimulating and quick distraction.
To be clear, this is not in defence of what we've been consuming because the algorithm is designed to adapt to individual interests, including fears and insecurities that can leave people feeling more anxious.
But I don't believe the antidote to both burnout and slop consumption is to eschew all forms of digital connectedness and 'go touch grass'. (Although being in nature is a proven remedy to stress.)
TOP-DOWN CHANGES
The burnout to slop pipeline can only be stymied by an examination of American society, priorities and the social systems that support – or fail – our citizens. There need to be top-down changes that include social safety nets for ageing Americans, which takes the pressure off their adult children.
There should also be affordable childcare that allows working parents to ensure their kids are well attended to without sacrificing other important financial goals, like retirement contributions.
New parents shouldn't be expected to navigate the recovery of postpartum by quickly returning to work. Instead, they should be guaranteed paid parental leave for a minimum of six, but preferably for at least 12 weeks.
Major pipedream policy changes aside, the average citizen can make adjustments on a personal level. That could look like stopping the overscheduling of your children, prioritising a hard stop from work once a week or even taking a 15-minute social media-free walk.