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The Guardian
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
What if Jesus was a vlogger? The AI Bible stories flooding social media
Jesus walks through an emerald field holding a selfie stick. The first chords of Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather rise like a prayer. 'OK besties so apparently I'm the chosen one, like full-blown save humanity arc,' he cheeses. 'Love that for me.' Jesus flicks his Jonathan Van Ness locks behind his ears. The scene switches. He's still holding the selfie stick but now he's strolling through a dusty town. 'So I just told the squad I have to die and Peter literally tried to gaslight me. Like babes, don't be dramatic. This is the prophecy.' Another cut. Jesus at a candlelit banquet. 'Hey chat, so we're halfway through dinner. Judas couldn't even make eye contact.' He shakes his head and looks back to the camera with a knowing smirk. 'He's so fake!' This article includes content provided by Instagram. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. On first glance, this genre of video – the reimagination of Bible stories through the Americanised lens of fuckboy vlog culture – feels like bizarre, sacrilegious gobbledegook. Unless you want to intellectualise it as the congregation of 2025's holy trinity: AI, influencer culture and rising conservatism. Up to you. Are these videos a sign of the times? Are they symptomatic of the American right? Are they brainwashing me towards Christianity? Why is their biblical drip kind of horny? Why can't I stop watching them? Why is my brain leaking out of my ear?!? My first indoctrination to these Bible vlogs happened while I was lying in bed. I was slack-jawed from a scrolling session of biblical proportions when the algorithm parted and Joseph of Nazareth hit my screen. 'Peep the fit! Ancient drip on lock y'all. Market haul hitting different today. Figs stay juicy, no cap.' I sat up slightly, wiping the drool from my mouth. Further drivel is not often the antidote to brain rot, and yet … I was Daniel in the lion's den. I was Jonah inside the whale. I was mixing metaphors. My commitment to scrolling had delivered me to salvation. This article includes content provided by TikTok. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. In the days of yore I flirted with religion. I knelt in church with my grandparents when they were in town, attended scripture, chilled at youth group to socialise with my friends and boys at large. There was a brief dalliance with Hillsong (I was 13 and needed Friday night plans). I decided it was all a bit much when: a) a girl in front of me started shaking and screaming that her parents were 'captured by the devil'; and b) I peeked behind a curtain in the church and saw a bunch of teenagers fingering each other. My views on both fingering and religion have now changed. The current extent of my spiritual practice is saying stuff such as 'Jesus take the wheel!' or 'Oh my God!' and taking pictures of ecclesiastical iconography while travelling in Catholic countries to then later post on Instagram. And yet every night of the week I find myself flicking past outfit inspo and restaurant recommendations so I can sink my teeth into an AI-generated vibe check from the last supper. So I can tuck into a vlog of a Trojan horse unboxing. Or perhaps even a vox pop from Easter Monday. And then a series of street reactions to David killing Goliath. Really cool stuff. This article includes content provided by TikTok. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. I recently went to confession with a friend, admitting my fanaticism. I was preaching to the converted; she, too, had bitten into the apple of AI Bible stories. Jesus, she said, was kind of the first influencer. Mary and Joseph were giving toxic vlog parents. And if Judas was around now he'd totally be uploading 40-minute-uncut-no-makeup YouTube screeds – or at least a finely crafted notes app apology. Momentarily, I consider the environmental cost. How many litres of water did it take for me to witness Mary dabbing? How many finite resources were burned so an AI Jesus could make a joke about dropping the water to wine tutorial? How many years did we take off the planet so – wait! Shh. The next video is starting. Adam sits in a podcast booth, noise-cancelling headphones on, a mic in front of him, sporting a top constructed of a flimsy conga line of leaves. 'So God makes me. Right? Boom. First man, no parents, no nothing. I'm like … 'Ooh … I'm literally about to be everyone's daddy!'' My eyes glaze over, my mouth falls open and I bring my hands to prayer. They part and I clash them together, again and again, demonic. Another one! Another one! Another one!
The Guardian
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
What if Jesus was a vlogger? The AI Bible stories flooding social media
Jesus walks through an emerald field holding a selfie stick. The first chords of Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather rise like a prayer. 'OK besties so apparently I'm the chosen one, like full-blown save humanity arc,' he cheeses. 'Love that for me.' Jesus flicks his Jonathan Van Ness locks behind his ears. The scene switches. He's still holding the selfie stick but now he's strolling through a dusty town. 'So I just told the squad I have to die and Peter literally tried to gaslight me. Like babes, don't be dramatic. This is the prophecy.' Another cut. Jesus at a candlelit banquet. 'Hey chat, so we're halfway through dinner. Judas couldn't even make eye contact.' He shakes his head and looks back to the camera with a knowing smirk. 'He's so fake!' This article includes content provided by Instagram. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. On first glance, this genre of video – the reimagination of Bible stories through the Americanised lens of fuckboy vlog culture – feels like bizarre, sacrilegious gobbledegook. Unless you want to intellectualise it as the congregation of 2025's holy trinity: AI, influencer culture and rising conservatism. Up to you. Are these videos a sign of the times? Are they symptomatic of the American right? Are they brainwashing me towards Christianity? Why is their biblical drip kind of horny? Why can't I stop watching them? Why is my brain leaking out of my ear?!? My first indoctrination to these Bible vlogs happened while I was lying in bed. I was slack-jawed from a scrolling session of biblical proportions when the algorithm parted and Joseph of Nazareth hit my screen. 'Peep the fit! Ancient drip on lock y'all. Market haul hitting different today. Figs stay juicy, no cap.' I sat up slightly, wiping the drool from my mouth. Further drivel is not often the antidote to brain rot, and yet … I was Daniel in the lion's den. I was Jonah inside the whale. I was mixing metaphors. My commitment to scrolling had delivered me to salvation. This article includes content provided by TikTok. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. In the days of yore I flirted with religion. I knelt in church with my grandparents when they were in town, attended scripture, chilled at youth group to socialise with my friends and boys at large. There was a brief dalliance with Hillsong (I was 13 and needed Friday night plans). I decided it was all a bit much when: a) a girl in front of me started shaking and screaming that her parents were 'captured by the devil'; and b) I peeked behind a curtain in the church and saw a bunch of teenagers fingering each other. My views on both fingering and religion have now changed. The current extent of my spiritual practice is saying stuff such as 'Jesus take the wheel!' or 'Oh my God!' and taking pictures of ecclesiastical iconography while travelling in Catholic countries to then later post on Instagram. And yet every night of the week I find myself flicking past outfit inspo and restaurant recommendations so I can sink my teeth into an AI-generated vibe check from the last supper. So I can tuck into a vlog of a Trojan horse unboxing. Or perhaps even a vox pop from Easter Monday. And then a series of street reactions to David killing Goliath. Really cool stuff. This article includes content provided by TikTok. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as they may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'. I recently went to confession with a friend, admitting my fanaticism. I was preaching to the converted; she, too, had bitten into the apple of AI Bible stories. Jesus, she said, was kind of the first influencer. Mary and Joseph were giving toxic vlog parents. And if Judas was around now he'd totally be uploading 40-minute-uncut-no-makeup YouTube screeds – or at least a finely crafted notes app apology. Momentarily, I consider the environmental cost. How many litres of water did it take for me to witness Mary dabbing? How many finite resources were burned so an AI Jesus could make a joke about dropping the water to wine tutorial? How many years did we take off the planet so – wait! Shh. The next video is starting. Adam sits in a podcast booth, noise-cancelling headphones on, a mic in front of him, sporting a top constructed of a flimsy conga line of leaves. 'So God makes me. Right? Boom. First man, no parents, no nothing. I'm like … 'Ooh … I'm literally about to be everyone's daddy!'' My eyes glaze over, my mouth falls open and I bring my hands to prayer. They part and I clash them together, again and again, demonic. Another one! Another one! Another one!
Fast Company
30-05-2025
- Business
- Fast Company
A third of Gen Z feels ‘pressure' to become social media creators—and most say their schools encourage it
Graduating from high school is a huge rite of passage, but entering the working world, especially in uncertain economic times, can be intimidating. According to a new study, a big chunk of high school graduates say they don't exactly feel prepared for post-school challenges, especially when it comes to a few necessary life skills. And many feel pressured to lean into influencer culture as a way to make ends meet. The national survey, which was commissioned by K12, an accredited online K through 12 school, asked 300 recent high school graduates and 200 parents about how confident they were upon entering the real world. Notably, less than a third (32%) of recent grads said they felt their high school years had equipped them. Teen boys felt less prepared than girls, with 23% rating their 'real world' confidence at 3 or below on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most confident. Meanwhile, 16% of female grads said the same. Questions on where their confidence was lacking highlighted a few areas where recent grads felt most insecure, which, somewhat surprisingly, seemed to be the very rites of passage that young adults once looked forward to: 34% said they didn't feel confident about managing their own money, 27% didn't feel ready to live independently, and 26% cited communicating effectively as a concern—perhaps a display of how online communication has peaked in recent years in lieu of in-person communication. Recent grads' biggest fears echoed those insecurities, with 44% saying that they were worried about becoming financially secure. In addition to a challenging job market and an uncertain economy, those grads largely felt that their high schools didn't equip them with some key life skills—mainly, financial skills. A staggering 62% said they wish they'd learned how to do their taxes, 60% said the same of being taught about credit scores and loans, and 51% also noted that they wished they had learned how to invest. Given many high school grads don't feel quite ready for the real world, it makes sense that most teens said they plan on attending college after graduation: 90% said college is in their future. However, there was another notable trend that grads are likely to lean into after high school: becoming an influencer. More than a third, or 34% said they felt pressure from social media to become content creators or entrepreneurs, which is hardly surprising given just how common the side gig, or even full-time career, has become. But interestingly, it's not just social media that's steering teens toward content creation. According to the report, 56% said their high school actually encouraged students to 'explore alternative career paths.' Those alternatives were things like trades, gig work, and yes, content creation. Given the lives of young adults today are so broadly shaped by social media and influencer culture, the pull to dive into content creation makes perfect sense. Still, teens are rightly worried about whether or not they have the financial literacy to turn influencing into income.
Forbes
07-05-2025
- General
- Forbes
Perception Is Reality: The Story You Tell Shapes The Life You Live
Jess Agnew, Founder of BridgeWing . getty A single phrase can follow you for a lifetime. For me, it was this: Perception is reality. It was one of the first lessons drilled into me during Plebe Summer at the U.S. Naval Academy. It felt like a warning: If your teammates believe you're unreliable or uncommitted, that becomes the "truth" for them. What I didn't realize then is just how deeply that idea is grounded in neuroscience and psychology. Once a belief takes root, our brain works hard to confirm it (even if it isn't true). This principle is everywhere. It's one of the reasons influencer culture works. We don't always trust influencers because of their credentials; we trust the image they create. A wellness expert with glowing skin must know the secret to health. A parenting blogger with curated photos must be a calm and gentle mom. Is that reality? Maybe not ... but once we form that impression, our brain starts looking for ways to confirm it. This is a psychological phenomenon called confirmation bias: the tendency to seek out and favor information that supports what we already believe. Once the perception is in place, our minds begin scanning for cues that reinforce it, even if that belief was never fully accurate to begin with. And it's a slippery slope. When The Bias Turns Inward The idea that "perception is reality" doesn't just shape how others see us; it shapes how we see ourselves. And it doesn't only show up in high-pressure environments. It's there in the everyday: in our leadership, in parenting and in the quiet moments when no one's watching. The same principle that guides external perception subtly directs our internal narrative. The words we repeat about ourselves become what I call our "identity hook": the familiar version of ourselves we hold onto to feel secure, even when it limits who we believe we can become. Tell yourself you're lazy, and your brain will highlight every moment you've rested or paused. Tell yourself you're selfish, and guilt will creep into every boundary you try to set. Tell yourself you're not good enough, and one piece of criticism will outweigh five compliments. You don't even have to try. Your brain will do it for you, especially once that belief has been running on loop for years. This isn't just mindset. It's biology. Repeated thoughts reshape the neural pathways in your brain, reinforcing your internal story until it starts to feel like fact. But what if you let go of the beliefs handed down to you and chose a narrative that honors effort instead of perfection? One that pulls you toward who you're becoming, rather than anchoring you to who you've been? Research, like Carol Dweck's on growth mindset, shows we're far more motivated by actions that align with our identity than by external rewards. When your actions reflect who you believe you are, not just what you're trying to do, your story starts to stick. And your brain, once primed by repetition and belief, begins to reinforce the version of you that you actually want to become. Practical Ways To Shift Your Story Here are some steps to rewire your internal narrative: 1. Interrupt the old belief. Start by paying attention to your inner dialogue. What labels do you automatically apply to yourself? Now ask: Are these beliefs based on truth, or repetition? Do they reflect who I want to become, or who I've been told I am? 2. Choose a new belief. Think about the qualities you want to embody. Write one sentence that reflects this version of you, such as "I am focused" or "I am worthy." 3. Define what that belief looks like in action. Don't just choose a new belief; decide what it looks like in your daily life. If you're trying to believe "I am focused," you might define it as closing your email and finishing one task at a time. "I am worthy" might mean accepting a compliment without deflecting. 4. Use your brain's built-in bias. The reticular activating system (RAS) is your brain's filter, tuned by what you decide to focus on. It works in tandem with confirmation bias: The RAS controls what gets your attention, and confirmation bias shapes how you interpret it. So, when you act in line with a new belief, pause. Let it count. Let it reinforce your new story. That's how your brain starts reinforcing the version of you you're choosing to grow into. 5. Keep practicing the new story. Identity is formed through repetition. The more often you think, act and speak in alignment with who you're becoming, the more naturally that version of you takes root. Owning The Narrative: Your Story, Your Terms This practice is about reclaiming the story you're telling yourself by choosing what you carry forward. That starts with awareness. Then intention. Then repetition. Ask yourself: How did I show up today? Is that who I want to be? What did I learn, and how might it shape the version of me I want to reinforce tomorrow? There's science behind this. Your brain isn't just a storyteller. It's a pattern seeker, a filter and a builder of identity. The more consciously you shape your narrative, the more your mind will support it. For me, it started at the Naval Academy, where I first heard the phrase "Perception is reality." Back then, it felt like pressure, as if I had to get it right all the time. Now, I see it differently. I'm learning to notice the stories I tell myself and choose the ones that align with who I want to be. Some days I get it right. Other days, I catch myself mid-story and begin again. That's the work: choosing the hook you want to build your identity around, over and over, until it becomes your truth. Perception is reality. So, choose your perspective with intention, and reinforce it with the habits, attention and self-talk that shape the life you're building. Forbes Coaches Council is an invitation-only community for leading business and career coaches. Do I qualify?
