Sunday Signals: Gen Z is looking for new ways to social-media: nihilist memes, a new take on MySpace, and parasocial relationships
Decoding signals to speculate what's next in culture
Here are three articles that made this week's list of emerging signals on what’s next in culture.
Niche right now, they could represent a version of the future tomorrow:
Which high-quality industrial glycine are you?
The TikTok account of a chemical factory in China has sent a wave of memes undulating across multiple forms of internet vocabulary. A “Which glycine are you?” personality quiz has drawn particular warmth from Gen Z nihilists.
The original clips show footage of a perfectly ordinary factory in one of China’s most polluted cities, adorned with simple captions like: “Here is where we make glycine” and “Many customers enjoy industrial grade glycine.”
In March, @gangstasportivik launched the wave of glycine spoofs. There is now a personality test, an influencer apology video, and a travel blog, among thousands of other absurd, yet self-aware responses.
Decoding this signal: What does it all mean?
The memes have zero content, which underlines the importance of the form itself.
The attraction seems to be down to the word glycine. It’s an honest-to-goodness “chemical word.” We don’t know what it is or how to pronounce it, but it feels very familiar. Is it a skincare ingredient? Can I bathe my baby in it? Is it French for “iceberg”?
Regardless of what it actually means, the “GL” sound codes something good in English (glad, glee, glitter, glisten, glow).
Absurdity is an art form created by the audience. It relies on the juxtaposition of incongruent ideas and requires the audience to notice.
Gen Z is nostalgic for a far-off time that never existed when advertising consisted of absurd slogans like “Drink Sweeto. It tastes good.”
Ok. So what?
Gen Z wants to play. Packing absurdity into a familiar form feels playful.
The best absurdity is found, not created. Calculated absurdity about your own product is more likely to attract derision than humor. (Arguably, this is precisely what the Duolinguo does.)
(The full article is here.)
Gen Z is worried that they have missed out on the Golden Age of Social Media.
Once upon a time, before we became “users” and the algorithm pulled us apart, social media was a great new way to socialize. Your friends were your actual real-world friends, not distant trolls who once liked a post you were tagged in. Your feed (a term no one knew at the time) was mostly postings by people you knew, sharing what they were up to. You connected because you liked each other.
Gen Z want it back. Nospace aims to recreate the environment that was MySpace. Members can share what they are “watching, eating, reading, listening to IRL” and “star” their interests to allow them to find people with similar interests.
Decoding this signal: What does it all mean?
Gen Z want to put “social” back into social media by asking “remember how fun the internet was before all the algos and ads?”
Backlash against doomscrolling. Unpleasant and unwelcome content eventually seeps in and soaks everything. We want to choose when to learn about emerging conflict in Sudan or the Solomon Islands, and when to interact with our friends. All Nospace content is “like a pg-13 movie”
Good old days mentality has arrived very quickly. Early-0s has been painted as the Golden Age of the Internet, at least in the eyes of Gen Z. Those of us who were there didn’t find it very gilded at the time.
Nospace sounds more like the ill-fated Ello than Myspace.
Ok. So what?
The success of the nospace promise (there are 100k+ people on the waitlist) indicates that Gen Z wants a simpler, controllable, PG-13 internet. Big players should take a notice
(The full article is here.)
More false friends - when good influences turn bad
Influencers cracked the code of culture. The discovery of scalable relatability of inherently parasocial relationships cultivated ultra-faithful followings.
But the emotional attachment followers feel is real. And so is the anger they feel at perceived betrayal and abandonment. Especially those who have been with the influencer since the get-go and have stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the chosen one through scandals, outrages, and heartbreaks.
The anger originates when the influencer has less time or need to cultivate fans. Unanswered comments, ignored DMs, and exclusion from the influencer’s private life can turn superfans into haters.
Decoding this signal: What does it all mean?
As fame and followers grow, so does the need and desire for privacy. Managing the fans takes on a new importance.
Social media influencers need to prioritize the social component to keep their fan base energized and connected. AI may not cut it.
Sooner or later someone will sue, asserting emotional harm caused by a deliberately misleading marketing strategy.
Ok. So what?
Fans crave mutuality. To cultivate fandoms - influencer or brand - means to be social on social media. The cost of not giving this mutuality is often high. When fans turn into haters, it’s bad news for everyone.
(The full article is here.)