[The World on the Page] The Sweet Start and Bitter End of Social Play

Not long ago, the chairman of a conglomerate group faced backlash on Instagram after playing around with anchovies and beans. The company's stock price plummeted, and by provoking the head of state of a country known for never forgetting even the smallest grudge and retaliating, the business outlook was clouded. Public reactions were intense. A boycott movement erupted, and social media was flooded with related verification photos. Although the chairman later retracted his words, it is undeniable that some customers were lost forever. Unless efforts are made toward good deeds, like when he helped struggling farmers by selling large quantities of imperfect potatoes, it seems that image recovery will take time.

Social media is addictive to humans. It is no different from digital drugs. Instagram’s ‘hearts’ give the feeling that the entire universe loves me. Facebook’s ‘likes’ make it seem as if everyone is praising me as ‘the best.’ Twitter’s ‘retweets’ create the hallucination that every mouth is chirping for me. The increasing number of ‘hearts’ colors the brain with pleasure chemicals like dopamine, plunging humans into ecstasy.

Like drug addicts, social media addicts hardly distinguish between their digital avatars and their real selves. They fall into the illusion that they can say anything to gain attention on social media, and are trapped in the error that if they have so many fans, they can get away with anything. Like celebrities who lose the public’s love entirely in a moment of arrogance, the result is invariably ruin.

Jeong Yeon-wook’s “Subscribe, Like, and Set Notifications” (published by Millennium Imagination) is an anthropological report compiling interviews conducted over 16 months with 325 next-generation influencers. This book tells the stories of young people who want to become famous by attracting attention through social activities on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and more. Their sole desire is success. They want to gain material wealth and social status through popularity on social media. These people are colloquially called “gwanchong,” meaning attention seekers.

Social media has ended the era of the ‘reclusive artisan.’ These attention seekers consider those who quietly build their lives behind the scenes as fools. In a harsh reality where even finding a job is difficult and only irregular jobs abound, with soaring housing prices and frequent restructuring, a diligent life ultimately means an endless extension of ‘this life is doomed’ (I-saeng-mang). To attention seekers, the ‘coin’ that will magically transform this miserable reality into a bright future is the number of followers and hearts. These are essential lifelines to rescue a sinking life. For this reason, becoming famous on social media has become the measure of success and a promissory note for the life they desire. It is almost like a black comedy.

The strategies of attention seekers who want to attract people’s eyes and gain recognition are broadly divided into three types: the materialists who flaunt material wealth, the physicalists who boast physical attractiveness, and the intellectualists who inflate their intellectual side. This is not just a youth phenomenon. In fact, those who cling to social media all day seeking others’ attention belong to one of these three categories regardless of generation. In my opinion, the exception is those struggling to sell products or services. Their popularity is generally low because people strongly dislike commercial motives.

The physicalists take their followers to expensive consumption venues. These ‘capable ones’ are early adopters and promoters of high-end luxury goods, luxury hot spots, and premium cars. If their content were summed up in one word, it would be ‘showing off money.’ Just as Bronze Age chieftains built large dolmens and absolute monarchs decorated magnificent palaces, they love supercars and limited-edition bags. Wearing the same brand clothes and shoes as third-generation chaebols or celebrities, they emphasize “gifts to myself” while staging a “showcase of ostentation.” Sometimes they even insist this is ‘luxury investment.’ Whether they are truly wealthy doesn’t matter. Photos edited with Photoshop and elegant-sounding words are what count. They buy recognition with money.

The physicalists flaunt tall stature, well-shaped bodies, and sexual attractiveness in front of their followers. “A good body is a gift from God.” They loudly proclaim God’s grace. Their carefully cultivated faces and toned bodies are their strategic weapons. The more attractively they shape and expose their bodies, the more ‘likes’ and comments they receive. To avoid looking vulgar or cheap, frequent photos of gyms, swimming pools, and massage shops are necessary. When beautiful people put in effort, likability rises and praise naturally follows. Social media is no different from the Master Korea or Miss Korea pageants. Without suspicions of backroom deals with agencies or judges, without manipulation by broadcasting PDs, it fairly selects the next star through real-time ‘like-voting.’ That is why those who believe “dreams come true” tend to undress more often.

The intellectualists enjoy playing with so-called ‘concepts’ such as knowledge, information, and insight. For those who are poor and physically weak to survive in the “harsh battleground,” they must target niches that the rich or beautiful cannot. They play the role of ‘Facebook sages’ armed with new ideas and brilliant insights. They boast about various cultural contents like movies, books, exhibitions, and concerts with profound words, and enjoy ‘keyboard battles’ by intervening in politics, economy, society, and other worldly matters to seek order and meaning. “Stay poor. Be a fool.” Steve Jobs’ words are their life motto. Of course, no one wants to remain poor. Their goal is success. Enjoying the contrarian stance and crossing the line to the point of becoming a twisted person is an inevitable price to pay.

But does ‘fame’ really wipe away a shabby past and open a rosy future? Unfortunately, most content creators only fill the pockets of companies and are exploited by power without creating their own lives. Continuously attracting people’s attention is very difficult. The joy of flaunting luxury goods leads to the sorrow of bad credit, the pleasure of showing off one’s body leaves a heart wounded by cruel rudeness, and the pride of intellectual posturing returns in an instant as brutal retaliation, leaving mind and body devastated.

The start of social play is insanely sweet, but its end is bitter enough to kill. Even the chairman of a large corporation could not avoid it. To avoid regrets, a social media diet is the only way. A life of self-reflection on becoming an attention seeker may be the true motto of this era.

Jang Eun-su, Literary Critic