Discontent industry

The Hollywood writer’s strike is over. All I have to say about that is: I’m glad creative writers will be paid a fair living wage. I think the work they do is challenging and demanding, and worthy of generous compensation.

But I couldn’t care less about Hollywood movies or the shows those writers are writing. I don’t consume that content.

That’s not me trying to make any kind of statement. It’s just that there’s so much other content that I’d rather consume.

There’s sooo much content.

You and I both know that there’s too much content! We joke about it. But what if we stopped joking for a second and thought about it seriously.

Regardless of how Mike Drucker feels about it, there is very much a content industry, and it’s not going anywhere.

We talk a lot about streaming content. This implies that there are streams of content. Idyllic rivulets of infotainment to be drawn from at one’s leisure.

But it’s more like there’s a firehose being turned on us at all times, assaulting us with an inescapable and endless supply of content. It takes a strong will to turn away from the spray and devote one’s attention elsewhere.

Increasingly, it seems to me, content is not a part of our lives, it is our lives.

In part, I’m thankful for this. I earn a fair chunk of my monthly income participating in the production of yet more content. In a given day, I might spend several hours writing content.

I might spend another hour or two reading content. I listen to content on my lunch breaks. If I’m lucky and I have some leisure time in the evening, I will usually read, watch, play or engage in conversation about… content.

How many hours per day do you spend awake? How many of those hours in some way involve content?

It wasn’t always this way.

The 20^th century was remarkable for many reasons, but one of those reasons was this: For the first time in all of the thousands of years of human history, food was not scarce. Suddenly, very ill-prepared human bodies and psyches had to contend with the fact that calories were no longer something to be sought out and treasured. They were everywhere around us. There were suddenly too many of them, and we loved putting them in our bodies. There still are, and we still do! We know how this is turning out for us. Obesity. Diabetes. Eating disorders. Food waste. Plastic pollution from packaging. Etc. Not great!

The 21^st century is remarkable and terrifying for many reasons. Well I think content is the new calorie. Too much, too easily accessed, inescapable.

Don’t get me wrong. I love stories. We need stories. Stories are essential to the human experience in all cultures around the globe. I feel the same way about sports as a spectacle. And music.

But there was a time when stories and performances were precious. Entertainment was rare. An event to be savoured in the moment, anticipated beforehand, and reflected upon afterward.

Now we expect to be entertained or informed (and there’s hardly a difference in most cases) every god damn waking moment.

It’s the reason that orange guy ascended to the highest office in the land. And looks poised to do so again. Say what you will about the guy. He’s good content.

Okay.

Imagine, if you will, that the firehose suddenly dried up. You’re suddenly left with only the infotainment you, your friends, and the shops and libraries in your area have in hard copy.

Would you rush out and try to hoard as much of that shit as you could?

Or would you breathe a sigh of relief, put your phone down, and just kind of stare out at the horizon?

Would you engage with the members of your community? Do a bit of volunteer work? Talk to someone you love about how they’ve been feeling lately?

You might sit in quiet meditation for a while, simply noticing the nature of existence.

You might attempt to create a bit of your own content, in the form of a song or a poem.

Every act of content consumption makes some corporation happy. Even if you’re pirating the content, you’re probably paying someone for internet access, and a VPN, and maybe some kind of monthly subscription.

So what about the people creating the content? Are they bad?

No, of course not. They got bills to pay like everybody else.

But how often are they really in a position to create art that satisfies and nurtures and demonstrates the truths to be found within their souls?

If they’re getting a paycheck that they just spent months striking in order to re-negotiate, the chances are damn near zero.

Enough content. Let’s set it aside, and build something more meaningful for ourselves. Human beings are capable of so much more than binge-watching and Twitch streaming.