There is a now famous interview, where the late Barbara Walters, trying to wrap her head around the growing fame of the Kardashians, notes that, “You don’t really act. You don’t sing. You don’t dance. You don’t have any— forgive me— any talent.” Which is sort of how Hollywood has approached much of the creator economy in the ensuing years. The Kardashians are, of course, only “creator-adjacent”, having gotten their first big break on TV, but there’s a straight line from them to all of today’s more popular creators in that they are all a part of the same broader genre: non-fiction/reality. That’s an important point to note. Today’s Creators play to the same general audience as the Kardashians and other reality TV stars. People like them because they open themselves up and create soap opera level drama. Or they do outrageous stunts. Or they have strong opinions on food or exercise or relationships. The common thread is that they are an actual person more or less playing themselves and viewers feel that this person is someone they might know. There’s some scripting and storytelling, but it’s all around one central character—the creator. That this is the case is something that seems to be lost on Hollywood 2025, where multiple streaming services are rapidly tripping over themselves to create short form repositories and hire their own army of creators, convinced that this is the future and that all media will soon resemble MrBeast or Ms. Rachel. Not to mention all the comics, bros and fashionistas who don’t use honorifics in their titles. The thing is, we’ve seen this movie before. Back in the 80s, there was a strong belief that Gen X was tired of TV and only wanted to watch music videos—TV as a radio station of sorts. Which faded as soon as The Real World came on the scene in 1992, bringing with it the Era Of Reality TV, an era that merely adapted itself for social media. Why It Matters Fans of the creator economy often talk about how social media has helped to “democratize” content, which largely means “taking the production assistants at Bravo out of the picture.” Though to be fair, creators like MrBeast and the brothers Paul were likely too far out of the mainstream for any actual TV network or streaming service to give them a shot. So point Creators. But here’s the thing: we are at the very start of a massive democratization of content and it has nothing to do with today’s bevy of YouTube and TikTok stars. It’s all about AI and its incipient ability to help a new generation of creators bring fictionalized stories—dramas, thrillers and comedies—to life. This matters because as far back as cave days (actual cave days, not the 1970s), people have loved to hear stories. Myths and legends are the backbone of every society on earth. People love great stories, whether it’s Romeo and Juliet or a more modern adaptation like West Side Story. Fiction moves people in ways that non-fiction never can. And that is why the creators Hollywood should be getting excited about are the ones who will use AI to create stories. Or, more accurately, to create characters and voices and settings that let them tell the stories they need to tell. The stories they need to tell. Those words are not accidental. Because that is what seems to be missing from the “how do I drive the algorithm” world of today’s creator economy. It’s a curious line too. In the world of “art” (and I use that word loosely), popularity and worthiness are not held to be one and the same. James Patterson’s paint-by-numbers mysteries routinely outsell James Joyce. Yet no one would argue that Patterson has had more impact on Western culture. Films like Citizen Kane, The Shawshank Redemption and even The Wizard of Oz were financial flops when first released, often finding audiences many years later. Even on TV, shows like Mad Men and Succession never garnered massive ratings—but their influence on the culture far exceeded that of shows with triple the ratings. So this is what I am excited about: the real democratization of content, the ability for anyone with access to AI creator tools to tell the stories they need to tell. Without the need to sell a script. Hire actors, writers and production people. And secure a rights deal. This will open up a new golden age of video, of TV series and movies that have the ability to really move us and create a golden age of storytelling. The challenge will, of course, be to find the gems in the inevitable deluge that pours forth, but that will likely be solved by better discovery tools and by apps and platforms that appeal to different audiences. Because, as you may have heard me say a time or two before, “good” is in the eye of the beholder. How creators market themselves to users of those apps and platforms is something that bears watching too, because it will test the value of this era of democratized content creation. There will be, as in Hollywood, a tendency to chase after the tried and true, to shy away from something unique and different. Because there will still be algorithms and groupthink and “the way we do things here.” Gatekeepers without the actual gates. I believe though that unique works will spring forth, the way they always have. Sometimes in the moment, sometimes years later, occasionally, like Kafka, Van Gogh and John Kennedy O’Toole, years after the death of the creator. Talent usually finds a way to win. What You Need To Do About It Don’t write off the current crop of creators. People cannot live on fiction alone and there will remain a strong and vibrant audience for their content and the way they can connect with their audiences. The fiction revolution will expand our choices, not restrict or change them. Remember that AI is still evolving and that early efforts will still likely feel off. I have no idea how many years it will be until it feels seamless, but “the not too distant future” seems like a safe bet. Remember that old dogs can indeed learn new tricks and that well known authors and screenwriters will also be able to use the new AI tools as will reality-style creators who want to expand their repertoire. AI will be able to write basic scripts—the sort of holiday movie, for example, where the high powered executive returns to her small town hometown and finds love with a big hearted local tradesman. But, to paraphrase Evan Shapiro, it does not lay awake at night obsessing about its dysfunctional family or unrequited love and thus will not have the insight to create anything truly great. At least not yet. |
