When “Ideas Worth Spreading” Actually Meant Something
When TED first exploded online in the late 2000s, it felt like a new kind of intellectual entertainment. It was the era before podcasts took over, before YouTube became a landfill of reaction videos, before social media melted our collective attention span.
TED was where ideas lived. Big ones. Weird ones. Hopeful ones.
The formula worked: short, sharp, emotional stories that made you feel like you just attended a lecture at the future. It was well-lit, perfectly produced, and always ended with applause and goosebumps.
For a while, it felt like the future of learning.
The Fall of TED
Then, quietly, something changed.
TED didn’t crash - it just… faded. I stopped seeing it in my feed. When I searched for it, the views were lower, the talks were shorter, the energy was off. And when I tried to watch again after a few years, it wasn’t the same.
The magic was gone.
The speakers didn’t feel like pioneers anymore - they felt like LinkedIn coaches with ring lights. The ideas weren’t groundbreaking - they were recycled, reheated, and rebranded into something that sounded smart but didn’t say much.
Somewhere between “ideas worth spreading” and “content worth uploading,” TED lost the thread.
What Happened
So what actually went wrong?
For starters, TED got too big to stay special.
When it was exclusive, every talk felt like an event. But then came TEDx - hundreds, then thousands of smaller, local events with the same logo but none of the curation. Suddenly, anyone with a microphone and a mildly inspiring PowerPoint could give a “TED-style” talk.
The brand exploded - and that’s exactly when it started to deflate.
By trying to democratize the stage, TED diluted its own prestige. It went from “wow, this person is on TED” to “oh, I guess everyone is on TED.”
Then came the repetition. Once you’ve watched a few hundred talks, you start to notice patterns. Every presentation follows the same rhythm:
A self-deprecating joke,
A surprising statistic,
A personal story,
A call to action,
Applause.
It’s not bad - it’s just predictable.
And predictable doesn’t inspire.
When the Internet Got Smarter Than TED
There’s also the simple fact that the internet evolved. Podcasts like Radiolab, Huberman Lab, and The Lex Fridman Podcast now go way deeper on ideas that TED only skimmed. YouTube creators can give you a 30-minute breakdown of astrophysics, AI ethics, or ancient mythology that’s every bit as engaging - and more personal.
TED’s once-revolutionary 18-minute format suddenly feels quaint in a world where longform, authentic, slightly messy conversations have taken over.
TED is still out there, quietly uploading new talks every week. But it’s no longer part of the cultural bloodstream. The audience moved on - and TED never figured out how to follow.
The Tragedy of Good Intentions
The saddest part is that TED never really failed. It didn’t implode. It didn’t scandalize itself. It just became background noise.
It’s still full of smart people saying interesting things - but it’s also full of mediocre people saying nothing, beautifully.
TED’s greatest strength - giving people a platform - became its greatest weakness. Because not every idea is worth spreading.
What TED Used to Be
When I think back to that golden era of TED, I remember how it made me feel. Like the world was full of possibility. Like I could spend fifteen minutes a day expanding my mind instead of watching TV.
TED was the internet’s classroom. It made curiosity feel cool.
Now? It’s another YouTube channel struggling for clicks.
And that’s the real tragedy - not that it’s gone, but that it no longer feels necessary.
Because the world could really use that sense of wonder again.
