Privacy as Luxury

Surveillance culture has officially entered sci-fi territory with the rise of AI glasses and the frequency of people recording others in public. Philosopher Michel Foucault used the panopticon as a metaphor in his book, Discipline and Punish (1975), in which he argued that society had morphed into a disciplinary society where individuals are constantly watched. A panopticon is a type of prison that features a central watchtower surrounded by a circular building with prison cells. This allows a single guard to see all the inmates at all times, whereas the inmates can't know for sure when or if they're being watched. This creates a constant feeling of being watched, therefore forcing them to discipline their own behavior.

The panopticon effect is felt in our everyday lives. This is seen in the discourse of performative reading, where people allegedly pretend to read specific books that will increase their social capital. Or the joke of listening to niche albums just in case a street interviewer stops you to ask what you're listening to.

In Foucault's argument, he stated that modern society uses social control as a subtle and constant way of ensuring people act in a way that benefits the system. The ultimate goal is to keep us both obedient and productive, both of which are qualities that corporations want in their employees.

Georgia of @pleasedontmakemefocus articulates this point succintly using Tyler the Creator's post about surveillance culture and the fear of being perceived as a point of reference. In his post, he mentioned how his friend didn't feel comfortable dancing in public out of fear that they would be recorded. I genuinely believe that many of us can understand this fear all too well because any act that is deemed "abnormal" would automatically be recorded for public consumption. Even older people eating alone has become content for Gen Z to record and post on social media, often with commentary on "how sad" despite not knowing the person's circumstances.

On the flip side, it has become acceptable to see people recording themselves in public. So much so that popular streamers like iShowSpeed have committed to filming themselves 24/7. For his American tour, he is streaming 24 hours over the span of 35 days to millions of fans online. At one point in his tour, there were over 43 million people tuned into his livestream, which honestly blew my mind.

For context, Malaysia's population in 2025 is 35 million. Let that sink in.

During the same time, Kai Cenat was streaming his third iteration of Mafiathon to gain 1 million subscribers, a record-breaking number on Twitch. In the high-production Mafiathon 3 trailer, he recruited Michael B. Jordan to appear alongside him and other notable streamers. Throughout the livestream, fans can expect A-list stars making guest appearances.

iShowSpeed and Kai Cenat are millionaires before the age of 22, with a fan base that surpasses various countries' populations, as streamers.

There is a significant monetary gain when you allow yourself to be perceived publicly and consistently. We know this as Gen Alpha aspire to be YouTubers and content creators. It sounds like a dream to be your own boss, set your own work schedule, and live your life how you want as long as you post about it. Throw in lucrative brand deals and you're set for life. The aspiration is a trap.

What you gain in followers and brand partnerships, you lose in privacy and a sense of self.

Followers expect their favorite creators to bare their souls to them. From breakup confirmations to in-depth house tours, followers feel entitled to the intimate details of creators' lives. I'm reminded of the creator, Best Dressed, who made a video to share her new upload schedule as a way of preventing burnout and taking care of her mental health. She also had a stalker throw toilet paper on her fire escape in an attempt to ask her out on a date with a promise that he won't bury her in the woods.

The video in which she mentions the stalker was the last video she posted on YouTube 4 years ago.

Much like how we were never meant to see so many different faces in a single day, we were never meant to receive thousands of comments ranging from positive and affirming messages to dehumanizing and demoralizing hate. Nor are we supposed to encounter hordes of people who have no sense of boundaries.

Society has normalized this entitlement by believing that if someone puts themselves up for public consumption, it automatically means they are subject to unreasonable critique and/or an obligation of a relationship to fans. The anonymity of the internet has allowed many to cyberbully, dox, harass, and stalk others online. The parasocial relationships with internet personalities are formed because of the intimate nature of the content they publish.

We see this in the comment section where people say, "I feel like we're on FaceTime."

It's also easy to lose your sense of self online when your livelihood and relevance are so intricately intertwined with it. This is a misconception of the often-used phrase, "when you love what you do, you never work a day in your life."

Creators, such as Khadija Mbowe, are choosing to leave YouTube, citing the fickleness and pace of the algorithm as a source of stress, which incentivizes having a hot take on a trending topic. Mbowe mentioned wanting the time to marinate on a thought, rather than having an opinion straightaway. Instead of posting when you feel called to, you are beholden to the algorithm and its whims. You feel obligated to share with your followers life updates, as you feel indebted to them for "giving" you this life you've desired.

As social media platforms evolve swiftly from static image posts to short-form video content, it seems that we have reached a point of fatigue. A recent survey shows that social media users are posting less than they did in 2024, especially amongst Gen Z.

The social element of these platforms has moved towards content.

In an interview with the BBC, journalist Kyle Chayka comments on the desire for privacy on social media:

"I think we kind of learned the downside of broadcasting your private life online over the course of the 2010s. You could see that with public shaming or kind of viral embarrassments that happen to people."

"I think the social contract of social media has changed. The deal was if you put stuff out there, if you put out content, you could get this massive audience. But that becomes a vicious cycle that becomes your entire life. So, unless you're trying to become an influencer or a professional internet poster, the deal doesn't seem so good anymore. The downsides of posting are too great and the advantages are not good enough. So, you might as well just text your friends."

He mentions that we're moving away from posting our lives on social media and moving towards private conversations with our friends and loved ones. Social media platforms aren't going anywhere; instead, they'll be mediums of entertainment.

In a recent study conducted by YouTube, they found that 57% of Gen Z are more excited to see new content from creators than they are to see new TV shows or movies. This signals a significant shift in media consumption away from traditional media. We see this in the rise of vertical series, which I think is unfortunate, as someone who truly loves the experience of watching a movie in theatres.

In the interview, it was particularly poignant to read Kyle Chayka's reflection on why everyday people aren't posting on social media anymore:

"Why post your selfies or post your breakfast if you don't get attention for it, you can't reach your friends and you're just competing with all of this remote, abstracted garbage out there?

Maybe social media was this aberration in a way, or a detour. And this idea that every normal person should share their life in public was kind of flawed from the beginning. And we're now waking up from that a little bit and seeing the damage that it's wrought and moving on a little bit with our habits."

As someone who remembers the golden days of Instagram, where our chronological feeds were filled with Earlybird filters, candid photos, and our friends' breakfast of the day, I miss the social element of these platforms. The same can be said for YouTube, before the inclusion of in-video ads and partnerships. Creators were posting for fun, instead of a contractual obligation.

Those days will never be the same again, which isn't a completely negative thing.

I'm hoping that as we reach peak social media, we will start connecting with people authentically through book clubs, outdoor activities, and/or parties. Maybe we will eventually replace the time and energy spent scrolling with hobbies that fill our cup, whether that's reading a book, watching a movie, or going for a walk.

Remember, "If something is free, you are the product."