On social media? Then you’re an ‘author’
MA student studies how much influence an audience’s response has on an author or creator
Bathed in the blue light of your phone in the late hours of the evening, you scroll almost subconsciously through your YouTube feed until, suddenly, you see a three-hour explainer from one of your favourite creators on some obscure angle about a childhood cartoon you treasure.
Does the person who created that video make any difference to your viewing experience? Does your response make any difference to the creator, for that matter?
This is what I wanted to explore in my master’s thesis as a student in the University of Manitoba’s department of English, theatre, film & media.
Scholars of literary and film studies have been grappling with authorship for decades. Some, like French theorist Roland Barthes, say the only person who matters in the reception of a piece of media is the viewer. Popularly, many audiences put the strongest emphasis on what the author of a work intended to do with it.
What complicates this debate is that all notions of authorship are evolving on social media.
I studied cancellation videos on YouTube, or videos where YouTubers respond to scandals which drastically shifted their audiences’ perceptions of the YouTuber and elicited backlash. YouTubers like James Charles, who was canceled after his friend and fellow YouTuber, Tati Westbrook, accused him of being a bad friend and manipulator, addressed criticisms they anticipated receiving from their audiences in their videos.
The formal properties of these videos–or the editing, scripting, and even the way the YouTuber acts–suggest the author’s anticipation of the audience’s response influences the production of the video.
I noticed this influence persisted in other forms of video on social media too. I also researched TikTok trends like “Two Pretty Best Friends,” which was inescapable at the time I was writing my thesis. The meme developed around TikToker jayrscottyy after he posted a video saying, “I ain’t never seen two pretty best friends. It’s always one of them gotta be ugly.”
Almost all of the memes remixing this TikTok either repurposed aspects of jayrscottyy’s appearance or clips of his voice in their own audio. Some users parodied his video, using soup emojis to represent his eyes, for instance, while others lip-synced his audio and mimicked his unblinking stare.
Even livestreams change the dynamic between authors and audiences. I studied Twitch streamers like Pokimane, and found that her streams were constructed to facilitate a sense of connection between her and her viewers. If Pokimane did not show her face on stream, she sometimes compensated for her absence with placeholder animations showing cartoon representations of her.
Because interactions between authors and audiences can lead to an expectation of intimacy and authenticity, they pose some ethical problems too.
For instance, if an author appears in their own video and audiences have the power to remix elements of the video, what are the ramifications of audiences treating fundamental pieces of authors’ identities, like their faces and voices, as scrap material for internet memes? Furthermore, what are the consequences for creators if viewers believe they are owed explanations and intimate details about their lives?
These questions are relevant to more than just the lives of internet celebrities. Everyone who creates something on social media becomes an author. Sudden, unexpected virality might turn any one of us into authors with global recognition, subjecting all of us to similar expectations of famous creators.
Ultimately, perspectives like Barthes’s and those opposite his are too extreme. In the age of social media, notions of authorship are constantly evolving, and many of these evolutions are influenced by the interaction between authors and their audiences.
Reflecting on my own authorial history, including my time as a grad student, feedback and guidance from my mentors and friends influenced my own production process.
My advisor, Dr. Jonah Corne, guided me as I wrote my thesis and he encouraged me to develop my first sole-authored, peer-reviewed article on Midsommar, which will be published in fall 2024. I anticipated their responses as I wrote and adjusted my writing accordingly, and that dialogic process is evident in the final product.
When I was in the thick of writing my thesis, I could not have anticipated it would be recognized with UM’s Distinguished Master’s Thesis Prize. This is the sort of response to one’s work that inspires emerging scholars and writers to push on and keep creating.
I am starting my PhD in cinema studies at York University in Toronto in September 2024. Moving to a new place and meeting new people is daunting, but if the people I meet are as extraordinary as those I’ve been privileged enough to work with in Winnipeg, the experience will be worth writing home about and maybe even posting to social media.
Jessie Krahn [BA(Hons)/2018, MA/2023] is a 2024 UM Distinguished Master’s Thesis Prize winner. The prize is given out annually to recognize the achievements of Master’s graduates who submitted groundbreaking theses in the previous academic year. View her thesis titled “Here comes the author: evolving notions of authorship on social media.”