The Algorithm Found Me
The algorithm finally found me, and it’s kind of terrifying, in an exciting way. Like a roller coaster, perhaps, but one whose maintenance and safety is unknown and untrusted and therefore viewed properly with suspicion.
Let me back up a bit. This is about TikTok, the current hot potato social media site. Sure, the US Government is hypocritically and for cynical reasons trying to force the Chinese government to give up control, and, failing that, ban it. I have opinions about that, surely, of course, but in the meantime, I have fun watching videos about comic books, D&D, lesbians, trans, and gay folks, and helping Palestine. Seriously that’s like 90% of my For You Page (FYP), the algorithmically-generated content it shows me. I don’t engage much, normally, just scroll through, like posts, maybe comment once in a while, and then close out.
Tragedy in Gaza
Recognition of the Palestinian genocide feels, from my view, to be the biggest social movement on the platform. (By the by, if you disagree with me on the word “genocide“, realize that the vast majority of UN member states as well as the International Criminal Court agrees with me, and I’m comfortable being on the side of the majority of the world.)
Related to that, a month or two ago, right after this year’s Met Gala, a lot of creators were calling out celebrities with large followings for not speaking out against genocide. The theory goes, if you have a large platform, you have a duty to use that platform to inform and direct your follower’s attention to things happening in the world. Especially, y’know, bad things. And minor social media influencer Hayley Kalil made a post from the Met Gala using the sound “Let them eat cake”, drawing immediate connection to the legendary inspiration for La Madame Guilotine and the French Revolution. A TikTok user named LadyFromTheOutside suggested we start not just unfollowing influencers like Kalil we disagree with, but also block them, a “digitine” – digital guilotine.
Mass blocking, posts about best ways to block, and posts trumpeting the success or failure of the bloking, ensued. And because of the way marketing and the TipTop algorithm works, mass blocking of celebrities caused a lot of problems for them. It was fun to watch and see the TikTok admins try to fix things, while marketing people explained in videos that it was working, to some degree of the word “working.”
Teamwork makes the dream work
When the anti-celebrity feelings rose, so also rose a sense of community among the non-celebrities; folks with small followings, or regular folks who just post regular things, not sponsored content. And a creator on TikTok named Jake (@jheisenburg) pointed out that just watching videos generates income for them, thanks to the Creativity Fund beta program. Qualified views on a video that gets over a certain amount of attention will be compensated by TikTok. Jake sat down and calculated how much money a specific number of views on a video would pay, and if they got X number of views, they could pay off their student loans.
That video, of course, went viral. People wanted to a) help this person pay off their debt, and b) wanted to get enough views on their videos to pay of their debts. The idea that people could get paid directly by the platform owners, without any viewers having to send their own money, was kind of like a gold rush moment. “All I need is five seconds of your time; don’t scroll away, please.” It spread like wildfire, and in a way, it was such a positive, wholesome moment. People helping each other out, with the bare minimum of attention. The main hashtag that emerged was #Teamwork
because that’s what it felt like. Let’s all work together, use the tools the platform has given us, and maybe we can all benefit.
Eventually the details for what had to happen were sussed out. To even apply for the Creativity Fund, which is still in beta as of the writing of this post, a user on TikTok had to have 10,000 followers minimum, and had to have 700,000 qualified views. Once that threshhold was crossed, and their application for the Creativity Fund was accepted, then any view of 5 minutes or more on a video by that creator that was more than a minute long was deemed a “qualified view”, and each one of those was worth a certain amount of money. Not a lot, mind you, but some. And the more views that video got, the more money was paid out. Another caveat was that the videos had to be algorithmically pushed; you had to come across it on your FYP or it wouldn’t count.
TikTok demands organic engagement
TikTok was basically paying people to engage with the platform. They want videos to go viral. They want people to make fun, entertaining, or otherwise engaging content. The pay rewarded views; the other activities, liking, commenting, favoriting, and sharing, were signals to the algorithm that said “this one should be shown to more people.” That’s how the software figures out what “viral” is.
People who were over that threshhold started telling people how to play, and encouraging their followers to follow them so the creator could follow them back. People wanted to lift up creators under 10K, or even under 1K followers, which is the threshold when a creator can start doing Live streaming on the app, which is a great way to get views, followers, and also rewards like gifts and the like. People were hoping this trend would help them out, but they were also using it to generate donations for families in Palestine or the Congo. It felt, to me, sincere. It felt like community and working together. And you know me, I’m a sucker for community.
Saying “I’ll follow you back” is called a “follow train“, a quid pro quo that the platform hates, since it’s seen as gaming the algorithm and not “organic” engagement. But folks didn’t care, at least until TikTok started suppressing videos that used the hashtags or keywords. People found ways around that, as people always do, and the trend mutated a bit.
What the Hell am I doing here?
And now you have the context for my experience with the Teamwork hashtag. As I said above, I don’t really use social media to get huge numbers of views, engagement, or pay when it’s available. I think the most number of followers I’ve ever had in the past two decades is ~1500 on the shithole once known as Twitter (fuck you, Elon.) As of three weeks ago, on TikTok I followed a handful of friends and family, and another handful of interesting quirky creators, which totaled under 100. But I dug the idea that by watching other people’s videos I could help them out. Hell, I’m going to watch anyway.
At the height of the whole #Teamwork trend, I made a video where I said to anyone watching that they didn’t have to follow me back, they didn’t have to watch 5 seconds or more, they didn’t have to like or comment, because I am no where near having enough followers to even qualify. But I would do my best to watch their videos, comment if I could. I called it my Statement of Intent. I wanted to help, I expected no reward because I couldn’t give a shit who followed me or not, karma is real, I love you all. Sure, I’m unemployed. I could use another source of income right now. I just don’t have any clue how to get even 100 people to care enough about the random shit I sometimes post to click that “Follow” button on my account.
I knew that posting regularly also told the almighty algo that I was ready to be shown to a wider audience, so for a few days I posted daily, including a video where I mentioned being unemployed but looking for that dream job. I didn’t beg, not exactly… but it was kind of a beg post. I didn’t say send money directly. Was just putting out there that I’m looking for work. Not a beg, but an ad. That video got just under 700 views and a handful of comments in the first day it was on the platform, and then views trailed off. Oh, well, I figured that was my shot. I posted a couple more times, but gave up on the idea that my follower count would explode. I was happy just watching and helping others. My TikTok habits went back to where they were before the trend. I did gain a few followers over the next few weeks but the number stalled out around, I shit you not, 420, dude, which honestly felt a bit like a troll.
And then… last night, as I was getting in bed, I started getting a bananas amount of notifications from the app. People were commenting, people were following, and people were sharing. They were offering job hunting advice, they said things like “GenX is showing up for you!” and they were sending love, prayers, and good thoughts. When I finally set down my phone I had over 650 total followers. It was amazing, and a little terrifying. I’m an introvert, I don’t like being perceived. That was why I was OK when I hadn’t gone viral earlier; it was a relief. Now, though…
And again that’s not a lot of new friends. It takes 10K to get in the Creativity Fund, remember, and I was still a long, long, long way from that. But 1000 now seemed in reach, if the trend continued.
The algorithm pushed my stuff out to the right eyeballs, they took action, and even more eyeballs turned my direction, briefly. By the end of the day Sunday, as I write this, I have just over 900. I’ve been following most of them back (I don’t follow vocal fascists and Republicans, crypto bros, or empty accounts with no profile pic or videos; everyone else I do follow back.) I’ve replied to many of the kind comments, and chatted with a few (most of the chatters are shilling for their paid private porn, though, sadly; if I were employed with a solid handle on my bills, I’d probably toss them a few bucks. Why not? I like paying for my porn. Alas, not currently in that position.)
It’s good that we, the people, talk to each other. I suspect that’s why our government isn’t happy, coupled with the fact that we talk to each other on a platform who’s beholden to a government in a very competitive position to the US. There is a lot of pushback on both Democratic and Republican bullshit on the clock app and that’s gotta sting to them. But for now, it’s entertaining… and engaging. Just as it’s designed to be.