Is there any platform that generates as much collective angst as TikTok?
To some, TikTok is just a dumb video app. For others, it is a symbol of our most powerful social and political fears. What are young people involved with? Isn’t it collecting a huge amount of data? Are they being pulled down dangerous rabbit holes? And China is spying on them?
Concerns about data privacy, hyper-personalization, and exposure to content that could be harmful are all reasonable. But sensational headlines, reactionary calls for stricter content moderation, or an outright ban on the app risk losing the forest for the trees.
TikTok is not some strange aberration; it is the next logical step on the path of platform capitalism that was established by those who came before it. It is a product of a privatized Internet best served by applications designed ultimately not for people, but for profit.
I confess: I really like TikTok. For me, it has become a place of joy and absurdity among the rage, horror and ennui of its competitors. As a digital rights and privacy advocate, admitting this feels like a dirty little secret.
The thing is, it’s possible to simultaneously hate a platform but love the people on it and the things they create.
But chances are my experience with TikTok is completely different than yours; that’s by design. TikTok’s commitment to algorithmically curated content is one of the reasons it stands out from the rest. The “For You” page is responsible for your popularity and profitability, but also for your damage.
As with all social networks, there are countless horrendous brands against TikTok. Of trauma case and content that promotes disordered eating and self-harm to influencer propaganda that attempts to recruit Gen Z for the armythere is no reason to worry.
There are also many examples of using TikTok for social good. Workers have used it to gain visibility and criticize their working conditions; it is home to a growing community of indigenous creators; and many young use it to organize and amplify their voices on critical political issues.
What do we really worry about when we worry about TikTok? Most of the concerns appear to be misdirected anxieties about the broader status quo of the platform ecosystem. Almost all widely used digital platforms threaten the privacy and security of users. They share information with various governments, have cultural and ideological influence, and exploit user data for profit.
TikTok has shifted the emphasis away from massive virality and towards maximum niche. Once you’ve determined what’s keeping someone on the app, he takes them deep into the dark trenches of content. Maybe they lingered on a couple of sad heartbreak videos and are now being bombarded with depression content, or rewatching a controversial political video led them to conspiracy theories. Wherever they end up, once there, it can be incredibly difficult to get out.
this is partially why online anonymity is so important – gives people the grace of exploration and inquiry. It allows people to make decisions, change their minds, learn and grow. TikTok leaves no room for this type of Internet exploration; makes it impossible to be curious without consequences.
TikTok isn’t alone in using engagement and recommendation algorithms to curate personalized content sources, but it takes it to the extreme. This is profitable because it keeps people scrolling and because there is very little difference between being able to personalize content and personalize ads.
Due to its monumental success, other apps are trying to follow in TikTok’s footsteps, giving us a glimpse into the current trajectory of social media. Instagram recently faced backlash when it began prioritizing recommended short-form videos, and last week, Twitter made the algorithmic feed the default. With such a lucrative business model, it’s not enough to fight TikTok alone.
Let’s go down our own rabbit hole: If you’re concerned about algorithms showing people problematic content, you should be concerned about targeted advertising. The logic of custom commit is the same. And if you’re concerned about targeted advertising, you should be concerned about the way data is collected for profit under surveillance capitalism. That’s what enables it.
And if you’re worried about surveillance capitalism, you should be worried about regular old capitalism. Profit is what drives companies towards invasive data collection and developing algorithms that keep people on their apps longer.
But for-profit online spaces are not predetermined. This is a choice, and we could make a different one. What would social media look like if the incentive to make money was removed? What could be built if it were in the hands of the people, with the motive of connection, creativity or community, instead of market competition?
This is not a call to apathy, but to think big. It’s an invitation to take those concerns about TikTok and redirect them. It’s time to broaden our collective political imagination about the kinds of online experiences that might be possible if we break the stranglehold of the profit motive and make room for publicly owned and collectively controlled social technology.
