The Death of the Cool Kid
How the internet went from a playground for weirdos to a popularity contest
This year marks the 20-year anniversary of YouTube, the OG creator platform still dominating in today’s content-obsessed world. Without YouTube, there’s no Instagram. No TikTok. No Twitch. No Substack. YouTube changed everything. The way we make, share, and even think about modern creativity started there.
As I’ve been reflecting on two decades of YouTube and, for me, over a decade of being a professional creator in this space (please don’t call me Unc), I can’t help but notice the shift that’s happened over the past eight years or so.
The “cool kids” took over.
The first ten years of YouTube were dominated by the weird kids (I say that endearingly) filming videos with their friends in bedrooms and backyards, uploading them just to see what would happen. It was one big experiment. The outcasts in the traditional world finally had a place to express themselves and find a community that got them.
I’m not saying that isn’t the case anymore. But as internet content became mainstream, younger audiences flooded in, and platforms figured out how to pay creators, the energy shifted. The creator space started to look more like the traditional world. It became polished, optimized, and full of people trying to carve out their niche side hustle.
It’s turned into one big talent show where the class-clown jock and bubbly cheerleader are still winning.
Ten years ago, when I was a video producer at BuzzFeed, a report came out saying the number-one job kids wanted when they grew up was “YouTuber.” I remember sitting in a meeting thinking, this is insane… especially considering I was sharing a two-bedroom apartment with three other dudes in North Hollywood. (For non-LA people: North Hollywood isn’t as cool as it sounds.)
Flash forward, and we’re here. Those kids, maybe even some of you reading this, are now adults. And they’ve entered the creator economy, where social media has become one big monetizable brag-a-thon instead of a playground for expression and experimentation.
And look, I’m not pointing fingers here. I’m a big part of it, too. I do plenty of self-promotion. I curate my feed. I try to make life look easy and frictionless. But here’s the truth, it’s not. Not even close.
(Shameless plug: pre-order our book.)
(Shameless plug #2: We were in The Publish Press!)
I think it’s great that the internet is mainstream. I love what it’s allowed us to build. But here’s what I don’t love: the pressure. The expectation to constantly perform, produce, and fight for attention.
Creators blame Instagram’s algorithm for killing reach, and I get it. I’ve done it too. But the thing is, Instagram has openly said the algorithm follows user behavior. In a Q&A, Instagram CEO Adam Mosseri even said you should be posting at least three times a week and showing up on Stories daily if you want to grow.
So who wins in that game?
The people who crave attention, are addicted to the dopamine loop of posting, and are loud, consistent, and shameless enough to feed the machine.
And honestly, that’s partly how we grew Create.Repeat.
But that’s also the problem.
Because somewhere along the way, that became the only game. The internet stopped rewarding experimentation. It stopped celebrating the weirdos who made something once and tossed it online for fun.
Now, when you see a viral TikTok, you click through the creator’s profile and see the exact same format, idea, and hook repeated thirty times until one finally hit the algorithm jackpot. It’s a game.
And this culture breeds something toxic.
So I’m here to say, f*** that!
If you’re scared to create because you might get rejected? F*** that!
If you spend more time comparing yourself to “successful” creators than actually making something? F*** that!
If you feel stuck, aimless, and like a failure, while feeding your brain endless content designed to make you feel worse about yourself? F***! That!
MAKE MORE OF WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE.
Not what the algorithm wants.
Not what the cool kids are doing.
Not what performs.
Make what you want.
And if you need a reminder why, Austin Butler of all people said it best on the latest SubwayTakes Uncut:
“I think embarrassment is such an underexplored emotion. The times when you make a fool of yourself or you’re humiliated — that’s when you really learn who you are. Nobody wants to feel it, but it’s the thing that makes you grow. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s essential. I actually think more people should allow themselves to be embarrassed, because it’s how you get better at being human.”
Not bad for a handsome movie star.
Check out the full video:
So go make the thing that scares you. Make the thing that might flop. Make the thing that might embarrass you.
Because that’s the only way to grow.
Keep creating and repeating,
Zack
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Create.Repeat is a community for creatives.
The Create.Repeat Substack is a project designed to be a weekly diary on creativity. Sharing inspiration for artists to keep creating and repeating.
Written and curated by Zack Evans & James Warren Taylor
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History repeats. Create the future.
