Is the content machine broken?

I had a wonderful time listening (and occasionally talking) at the “and& backstage” conversation on Clubhouse a few weeks ago, hosted by Fredo De Smet and Clo Willaerts and featuring Jonathan Berte (Robovision), Valery De Smedt (LABOpro LUCA School of Arts) and Maarten Weyn (University of Antwerp). The theme was “Are we asking the right questions?”, which – if you recall the name of this newsletter – is something I’m quite partial to.

A newfound vulnerability

I love that an increased amount of people out there are asking questions. We used to turn to events like and& Leuven for answers, and insights and trends, expecting them to show us the way. Today, they have no problem admitting that they are like the rest of us: “merely” looking around too, trying to find out what works and what people are interested in.

I like this newfound vulnerability. It’s like more of us are learning to say “Hey, it’s ok. Everyone is struggling, no one really knows how things work, but at least we are all trying.”

In the midst of this, Clubhouse seems to have emerged as the right channel at the right moment. Don’t worry, I’m not going to burst into song here, chanting the praises of this slightly elitist medium. But being on Clubhouse somehow does feel a bit like browsing around on the web in the nineties. Back then, I didn’t completely understand what it was (nor what it would become), but I could just taste the possibilities, clicking and shaking my clunky wired mouse. I also clearly remember figuring out some of its pitfalls, bumping into a neo nazi web page in one of my first online strolls and realizing that anyone could post their truth there, for anyone to see and to believe. But that’s a different story.

From social to content media

It has been a while since the internet offered us an alternative turn, mostly presenting new platforms that are copies of copies of copies of copies of copies (Sorry, I had myself a little Gertrude Steinian moment there). For me, the difference is that all the other platforms are content focused. We call them social media, but they no longer are that, are they? Social media have become content media. They connect less than they divide and conquer with information that affirms our world view.

These days the way we handle content has sadly become a toxic ticking bomb, wandering further from the truth each day. Most online material (yes, even traditional media have been guilty of that (and no, not all media, fortunately)) is designed to ‘bait’, not to ‘enlighten’. Very little content seems authentic anymore. And there is soooooooo much of it. (Yes, I do grasp the irony of my many personal contributions here.)

Frozen in time

Most online content is also fixed, and in some unfit for a fluid age where science, markets and anything human touched changes so incredibly fast. You record a podcast and that’s it. The context changes, the guests change, but there your podcast or your blog or your clip remains, frozen in time forever. Of course you can edit it and adapt it, but we almost never do, do we? No, we move on to new content, that’s relevant, for a short while again … and lather, rinse, repeat. And each piece stays out there on our blogs and other channels, declining in relevance as time ticks by.

In a world that’s continuously in motion, the way we communicate and express ourselves is still “written in stone”. Very little has changed since the clay tablets of the Sumerians, in that way.

A lingering feeling of unease

Don’t get me wrong, I love ‘fixed’ content. Walking around my neighborhood with a podcast trickling through my headphones or reading books under a blankie (This week’s find was the fantastic ‘Convenience store woman’ by Sayaka Murata, about being a quirky and poetic cog in a system) have been my lifeline during the pandemic. And it’s even good that we leave old and obsolete traces online that can be mined and analyzed and understood, as some kind of archeology of the web.

But in the age of fake news, clickbait, purposely arousing content and filter bubbles, we all know that a lot of online material has played a malicious role. My relationship with it seems to be shifting, and – just like in the beginning of the internet – I don’t fully understand what it happening. But I can feel … something. There are just too many blogs, podcasts, newsletters, movies, series, documentaries, TED talks, e-books and what not around. And yes, I know, these are all very different formats with different purposes. But there’s a fatigue there, a lack of trust. There’s rising doubt. A lingering feeling of unease. And we can’t just pin all that on the "big bad platforms" like Facebook, TikTok or Instagram. We’ve been creating this content too.

Streamed, not stored

Maybe that’s why Clubhouse feels different. It’s not always interesting. Sometimes it’s downright awkward. But it’s not about carefully orchestrating content for certain, often manipulative, purposes. It’s about networks. It’s about people talking to each other and interacting and inspiring and questioning each other. It’s about playing, experimentins and a spontaneity that (still) feels authentic. And if you say something that the others don’t agree with, they raise their hands and give a different opinion. Yes, you do ingest information while you listen, but it receives a place into your brain that continuously updates the data when it’s confronted with other content. It’s a fluid medium for a fluid age, fit for a complex context. Conversations are streamed, not stored here.

I’m not quite sure what exactly triggers this networked spontaneity. It could be the medium and its rules: the fact that it’s audio only, live, interative and epheremrous. But it might also just be the lightness that comes with beginnings, where no one really knows what they are doing and all are just having fun testing it out.

Whatever the case, if Clubhouse could be the beginning of something (and I’m not saying that it is, I really don’t know), then it’s because of that. This ephemeral ‘let’s just ask questions and talk and see what happens’ approach may very well be a better fit for an increasingly complex world with a growing amount of challenges than those highly manipulative platforms like Facebook with their ‘slow’ and repetitive content.

This piece was first published in my bi-monthly newsletter ‘The Questions’. If you like what you’ve read, it would mean a lot to me if you considered subscribing here.