TikTok: A Platform for Creativity, or the Joke of Gen Z?
BY KARA LU
I’m on day 50 of quarantine and have had TikTok for exactly one month.
I was hesitant when I first downloaded it. I knew nothing of the app except it was one of the less positive things that defines Gen Z, along with Tide Pods and Fortnite. It seems I don’t have anything to be ashamed of, though. On one of the latest Instagram story trends, “Quarantine Bingo,” I’ve noticed that the box marked “Downloaded TikTok” is almost always checked off. So, I’m not the only one who has caved in downloading the app.
I’m not the first to admit this, but as of right now, Tiktok is pretty cool and addictive. The filters, effects, and the way the videos switch in the time to the music make it an especially visually compelling app. I can also connect with fellow people who are interested in the same things that I post. These are the qualities that I think make it such a viable platform for creativity. However, it is not always the case that people want to use TikTok as a public way to show off their own creativity.
Among college students, TikTok feels like almost a shameful thing to have. A friend told me recently, “The world is falling apart, but at least I don’t have TikTok.” But as the Coronavirus pandemic goes on, people of all ages are warming up to the app.
In fact, a few weeks ago TikTok came up in conversation with a friend who does makeup. I was browsing the app and found her account which was set to private, and I urged her to make her videos public because I thought what she was doing was cool.
“I feel like I’m not hip enough for TikTok” she said.
And I replied to her, “I don’t know what ‘hip’ means in TikTok, it’s all Gen Z culture, but I think what you’re doing is cool and other people should see it.”
She eventually set her account to public and now has upwards of a thousand plays on some of her videos. As for me, I have found TikTok to be incredibly fun for various things like posting vintage fashion and guitar covers that would normally feel like spam on my main Instagram account. However, like many people, I don’t want people I know following me.
I’ve noticed that a lot of other TikTok users in general want to remain anonymous. A lot of accounts I see have bios like “If you know me irl, don’t follow me.”
The desire to remain completely anonymous is one of the main things that differentiate TikTok from platforms like Instagram, in which people want to be connected with whoever they know. I think it’s because some of the most popular content on TikTok seems to be more finsta-esque than anything: dances to popular songs, a “who is more likely to do this” game, telling embarrassing stories to a distorted filter face, reacting to tweets. These things aren’t what would typically be put on a more polished main Instagram account. Yet, for me, these very things are what make TikTok so entertainingly compelling.
However, there are many Tik Tok users who do still post finsta-esque videos on public platforms in the hopes of “going viral.” The thing is, a lot of people post things in general because they want them to be shared. Some may even want their followers and like counts to go up. But for those who do want the chance at going viral, TikTok makes it very hard to showcase videos to a wide audience.
The app has issues with filtering videos to only show people who they deem worthy of showcasing on their “For You” page, which is a page where the algorithm dissects what you like to watch depending on your likes and watch retention.
The algorithm used in curating your personal “For You” page is a mystery in itself, but what I’ve gathered is that the For You page does not only show you popular videos based on interest, but based on the physical appearance of the creators of the popular videos you like. For example, if you like videos of white blonde girls, it’ll put more of those videos on your “For You” page. I’ve found this to be true by casual experimentation, trying to find fellow Asians on the app.
This selective filtering unfortunately perpetuates a gap between bigger and smaller accounts, and the less you appeal to the algorithm, the harder it is to get noticed. It’s very hard to gain a following unless the algorithm likes you, as there’s no way to get big unless you wind up on the “For You” page. I think this is stupid, but, hey, money makes the world go ‘round. We’ve become predisposed to watching beautiful people, and the more beautiful people show up on your feed, the more money TikTok makes.
The algorithm of the For You page and the selective filtering are what I think make TikTok the joke of Gen Z. By this, I don’t mean a joke on Gen Z as a whole, but a joke on all of the Gen Z (and now older generation) users who might unconsciously find ways to appeal to the app.
So, should you finally cave and download the app? I say why not. I did, and while I’ve found issues with the way it’s programmed, I’m having more fun on it than I initially thought I would. It’s a great way to connect with people with similar interests and spark creativity when you can’t go outside. If you do decide to download it, I guarantee you won’t be alone. And as they say, “It’s quarantine. Anything goes.”