The YouTube Effect
The idea of exploring Youtube's effect on society, as a documentary, has merit. There are a lot of avenues to explore. How the platform has allowed for self-expression and original content that could never be seen on a network or a streaming service. How going viral can change someone's life. How making YouTube a career is a relentless grind to feed a never-satiated algorithm, negotiate the minefields of copyright law and fair use, and the physical and mental toll it can take on someone. Controversy over certain kinds of content, like reaction videos. The copyright claim/strike system that rewards trolls. How demonetization can cripple a creator. YouTuber wars. There are so, so, so many aspects to YouTube that can be explored.
It's a shame, then, that The YouTube Effect settles on the lowest hanging fruit. Don't get me wrong, some of the issues it raises are pertinent; how the platform can be used to spread disinformation and YouTube itself turns a blind eye. How easy it is to be radicalized with hate speech and whacked-out, tinfoil-hat nonsense. How the algorithm can be gamed, whether it's by creators peddling garbage just to get clicks, or for more insidious purposes, like organizing harassment. These are all very real things, and the movie does touch on them. Emphasis on the word "touch", because it doesn't delve very deeply into any of them. A few minutes here, a few minutes there, and it's onto the next thing, but they are mentioned. And the doc does give time to the former CEO of YouTube, who offers up the most feeble defenses, to no surprise.
The problems with the documentary are two-fold. One, for anyone who is really interested, very little of what you hear and see in this is new. It might be said a different way, but by and large, this is all fairly obvious and hardly revelatory.
The bigger problem, though, is the degree to which YouTube alone is demonized here. Nobody but the blindest Renfield-esque nutbar would claim YouTube has the best intentions or is an otherwise wonderful platform. The alarm bells rung by The YouTube Effect, however, sound awfully familiar to the ones we've heard pearl-clutchers sound over the decades about everything from pinball machines to Dungeons & Dragons, Pokemon, super-sized fast food meals, and about a dozen genres of music. This documentary would have you, dear viewer, believe that YouTube and YouTube alone is the greatest source of strife plaguing the internet. Yes, it is the second-most viewed website on the planet. Yes, it does have negative content that has done demonstrable damage to humanity. Yes, the mysterious algorithm's calculated, market-driven manipulations are as dodgy and untrustworthy as a politician (any of them), and it is literally impossible to sift through it all at this point. The pool is too wide and too deep. But it is a remarkably narrow and disingenuous thesis statement that YouTube is The Greatest Evil. There is almost no counter-balance to be found in the movie. Where is the perspective of someone like James Rolfe? He uploaded a silly video of himself giving an OTT negative review of a classic video game, spawned an entire genre of videos, and used it to live out his dream to become a filmmaker and an author. YouTube changed his life for the good, and he's not the only one. YouTube is integral to the lost media community, using it when lost video media is found to both preserve it and disseminate it to the public. What about how it has helped marginalized people, or people with mental health issues that make it difficult to function in society, find their voices and even careers? Hell, it only mentions phenomena like Justin Bieber in passing.
The YouTube Effect doesn't have time for that. The lack of a holistic view is the biggest failing of the movie. The name of the movie, The YouTube Effect, makes a promise it has no intention of delivering. There is no attempt at looking at the effect of the platform in totality; just the ones that embolden the narrative the doc wants to push. For as much as YouTube can lead people down dangerous rabbit holes and kick over nasty rocks, The YouTube Effect is guilty of the same crime.
It's a shame, then, that The YouTube Effect settles on the lowest hanging fruit. Don't get me wrong, some of the issues it raises are pertinent; how the platform can be used to spread disinformation and YouTube itself turns a blind eye. How easy it is to be radicalized with hate speech and whacked-out, tinfoil-hat nonsense. How the algorithm can be gamed, whether it's by creators peddling garbage just to get clicks, or for more insidious purposes, like organizing harassment. These are all very real things, and the movie does touch on them. Emphasis on the word "touch", because it doesn't delve very deeply into any of them. A few minutes here, a few minutes there, and it's onto the next thing, but they are mentioned. And the doc does give time to the former CEO of YouTube, who offers up the most feeble defenses, to no surprise.
The problems with the documentary are two-fold. One, for anyone who is really interested, very little of what you hear and see in this is new. It might be said a different way, but by and large, this is all fairly obvious and hardly revelatory.
The bigger problem, though, is the degree to which YouTube alone is demonized here. Nobody but the blindest Renfield-esque nutbar would claim YouTube has the best intentions or is an otherwise wonderful platform. The alarm bells rung by The YouTube Effect, however, sound awfully familiar to the ones we've heard pearl-clutchers sound over the decades about everything from pinball machines to Dungeons & Dragons, Pokemon, super-sized fast food meals, and about a dozen genres of music. This documentary would have you, dear viewer, believe that YouTube and YouTube alone is the greatest source of strife plaguing the internet. Yes, it is the second-most viewed website on the planet. Yes, it does have negative content that has done demonstrable damage to humanity. Yes, the mysterious algorithm's calculated, market-driven manipulations are as dodgy and untrustworthy as a politician (any of them), and it is literally impossible to sift through it all at this point. The pool is too wide and too deep. But it is a remarkably narrow and disingenuous thesis statement that YouTube is The Greatest Evil. There is almost no counter-balance to be found in the movie. Where is the perspective of someone like James Rolfe? He uploaded a silly video of himself giving an OTT negative review of a classic video game, spawned an entire genre of videos, and used it to live out his dream to become a filmmaker and an author. YouTube changed his life for the good, and he's not the only one. YouTube is integral to the lost media community, using it when lost video media is found to both preserve it and disseminate it to the public. What about how it has helped marginalized people, or people with mental health issues that make it difficult to function in society, find their voices and even careers? Hell, it only mentions phenomena like Justin Bieber in passing.
The YouTube Effect doesn't have time for that. The lack of a holistic view is the biggest failing of the movie. The name of the movie, The YouTube Effect, makes a promise it has no intention of delivering. There is no attempt at looking at the effect of the platform in totality; just the ones that embolden the narrative the doc wants to push. For as much as YouTube can lead people down dangerous rabbit holes and kick over nasty rocks, The YouTube Effect is guilty of the same crime.
Mini Review: The idea of exploring Youtube's effect on society, as a documentary, has merit. There are a lot of avenues to explore. How the platform has allowed for self-expression and original content that could never be seen on a network or a streaming service. How going viral can change someone's life. How making YouTube a career is a relentless grind to feed a never-satiated algorithm, negotiate the minefields of copyright law and fair use, and the...