The New Yorker journalist Kyle Chayka identified the “algorithmic anxiety” that has overtaken the online experience for the majority of people, with algorithms mining “floods of data that we voluntarily produce on sites that exploit our identities and preferences for profit.” Nowhere has capitalized on this as boldly as TikTok and its reputation for pinpointing users’ desires down to the most obscure interests.
Despite this reputation for precision, respondents of a survey Chayka conducted on the influence of social media algorithms complained of oversimplification and the offering of “worse versions of things [they] like that have certain superficial similarities.” The element of surprise is lacking and the annoyance levels are higher than ever.
The population of screen dependents continues to expand, while the calculated flattening of culture on “the clock app” has produced certain side effects. For an app most frequently associated with Gen Z, it has a thriving crop of older female content creators that are niche yet impactful.
Just like any other influencer, the main product they offer is themselves. However, their unique selling point is deviating from the algorithmically fine-tuned standards of behavior that many have come to expect from the stereotype of this role. Consider a one-hit wonder like TikToker @momlifestlouis53, who gained the admiration of millions at the start of the year for posting herself opening and eating from a large jar of Costco preserved peaches with no TikTok shop plug or annoying influencer hand gestures in sight. “Is this performance art?” pondered one viewer in the comments.
It isn’t just singular viral videos making an impression either, with countless other adult female TikTokers building entire beloved brands. Some showcase their unique interpretation of common video genres like “Get Ready With Me,” done with a charming lack of polish by creators. Such as Lana Del Rey loving the self-described “Gas station Barbie” TikToker @harmonyspublicist, or stylish 87-year-old Sassy Grandma Pat whose bio reads “Girlhood Never Dies!”
Others use their voice to share their professional knowledge. These include the likes of British cleaning expert, “TikTok auntie,” and occasional social commentator Ann Russell, who has made a name for herself with her no-nonsense advice. Or, on the more camp end of the spectrum, is Alice Elm who uses the platform to narrate the results of the refurbishments she undertakes with her “elegant interior decorating” business in her distinctive cadence.
The admiration doesn’t always stop at the personalities that creators present themselves with, either. Sometimes, they serve as a jumping-off point for memes and other online phenomena. A prominent example is Deborah Ali-Williams, director of All Peoples' Funeral Home and elected President of Floptropica, an alternate universe created by a subset of TikTokers populated by women and LGBTQ+ centric memes.
With all of these viral women, it’s their apparent authenticity that captures their audience and the fact it is given any algorithmic precedence at all is what keeps it. It’s not only a surprise that they have triumphed in the battle of recommendation systems, but also that they spark a deeper discussion around an issue. As the 2020s have progressed, one word seems to have taken over to describe what it feels like to be on the internet in this decade: Ensh*ttification.
A word coined by blogger and journalist Cory Doctorow. Ensh*ttification, as outlined in the Wired article “The ‘Ensh*ttification’ of TikTok,” is the process of online platform degradation. First, it provides an internet-based service popular by organic traffic, then exploits these organically-gained users to benefit business, then exploits those customers for the benefit of shareholders. In other words, consumers become the product, and the quality of the product that is advertised suffers.
While not as far along in the process as the likes of the “terminally ensh*ttified” Facebook, Doctorow maintains that TikTok is still in thrall to the same process. He claims that the 2023 revelation of the controversial “heating” method that employees of the platform can use to give certain videos more distribution is like somebody running a rigged game at a carnival. The method entails periodically allowing a customer to “win” so they can be seen walking around with a giant teddy bear. It encourages other carnival goers to play in the belief that they too will be awarded with the precious resource of internet clout.
In these circumstances, creators such as these can feel like a ploy. It’s tempting to see the modest success TikTok has allowed them as “inspirational” content creators, despite them shying away from the increasingly prevalent categories of slop and ads. There may be an element of condescension coming from some of their audience when, say, they marvel at the trademark low camera quality of @harmonyspublicist or parody Alice Elm enthusing about the color scheme of her latest hallway refurbishment.
Still, much like any means of resisting the degradation in quality that comes with the expansion of a platform, they feel like “a buffer to the influence of algorithms,” as Kyle Chayka puts it. For the most part, these TikTokers are not an explicit part of the platform’s drive to profit from its users, or they act on the periphery of it (for example, Ann Russell was able to publish a how-to cleaning guide in 2022 thanks to the following she had gained).
This is what their viewers appreciate them for. It feels a world away from the boring Instagram model reincarnated—such as Alix Earle or the hyperoptimized uncanny valley of the likes of MrBeast. No matter what tricks may be played by the algorithm to give them even a fraction of the viewership, the fact that you can still stumble across a creator whose presence feels genuinely informed by their life experience and interests is a welcome antidote to an internet increasingly filled with bots, grifters, and professional attention seekers.
By design, all TikToks are either fillers between the ad space or the advertisements themselves. Nonetheless, there are still creators on the platform who offer a brighter, more restorative version of short-form entertainment that attracts a substantial audience. The open secret of their success is the idiosyncrasies that come with being unattached to the expectations of growing popular on the internet; they are no freedom fighters, but they offer a welcome reminder of the humanity that makes any form of social media worthwhile in the first place.