Everyone loves to share. It’s the whole reason Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Reddit and any other social media site exists—we are social animals, after all. I want to get something out of the way: this is not an anti-social-media article. It’s 2018. I’m not going to make you read another one of those. But while social media is not problematic by itself, it is a symptom of a real phenomenon.
So much of my motivation comes from the prospect of recognition from other people. I love it when people like my Tweets, and it's often the only reason I post them. I only write for Odyssey so people see my writing, and I love it when people tell me they like my writing or talk to me about it. Even a solid half of this article is all about me.
This isn’t to say that recognition is bad or its wrong to want it. Sharing the things we create is an important part of creating. The problem arises when recognition becomes the driving force. Writing for Odyssey became less fun when the website stopped showing the number of views each of my articles received. When my artwork goes unnoticed on Reddit, I begin to doubt myself and compare it to more popular posts. Even when I’m relaxing and playing video games, I save clips to proudly show my friends instead of just enjoying the moment myself. The game becomes about showing off instead of having fun.
And that’s the slippery slope. When recognition becomes more important than enjoyment, things that once provided an intrinsic feeling of happiness and fulfillment—whether it's writing, playing video games, painting, taking photos, playing an instrument or anything else one can enjoy—only provide that feeling when other people are involved.
I don’t believe I’m the only one who feels this way. I hate to use the s-word, but we as a society are obsessed with having an audience. We prioritize the opinions and words of people with more followers on Twitter. YouTube and advertisers throw money at channels with the most subscribers because we flock to them, and capitalism, the very core of American society, revolves around having an audience willing to buy. We love stories about unrecognized musicians or authors or artists or politicians who started from the bottom and rose to fame. We love these stories because we believe they can happen to us, and we want that more than anything. We begin to believe, without knowing, that our worth is tied to the size of our audience.
Comedian Bo Burnham’s show “Make Happy” revolves around performing. His words phrase this whole idea very concisely (what, you thought I had an original idea?). He says we live in a “cult of self-expression.” If you have Netflix, I highly suggest watching “Make Happy.” Bo has a way of weaving serious topics into comedy seamlessly and it's one of my favorite things to watch. If you don’t have access to Netflix, here is a transcript of the relevant bit (though it’s harder to follow in text).
If you can find happiness in the things you love without needing the approval of others, you are untouchable. Because we’ve all seen the trope in a million movies: the protagonist gets famous and realizes it doesn’t make them happy. There’s little more freeing than finding happiness within yourself and in the things you love. Your worth is not dependent on others. “If you can live your life without an audience . . . you should do it.”