It is almost impossible to read a book whose themes and some of the characters are familiar to you without feeling melancholy and even a little nostalgia.
It was through the lens of my recent history and curiosity about how we got to where we are today that I read the book by Washington Post tech reporter and social media doyen Taylor Lorenz. Extremely Online: The Untold Story of Internet Fame, Influence, and Power (US$14.99 £14.29 paperback (UK).
This is a smart, insightfully told story about the rise (and sometimes fall) of social media, influencers and other online stars, and how it all changed the media and society as a whole.
Lorenz’s well-researched book is more than just a history lesson. It connects the dots better than anything else I’ve read on the topic of the meteoric rise of social media and the unexpected rise of influencers.
Time and time again, Lorenz has shown that seemingly unrelated events are part of a continuum. I once thought that platforms like MySpace, Vine, Twitter, Instagram, Tumbler and YouTube defined social media and its stars, but Lorenz’s book makes clear that the opposite was often true.
Users of the platforms, and then creators, created content online and then used the tools available on these social media platforms to learn what worked, what didn’t, and how to connect with audiences through your content (and later, how to make money from this is money). their).
Platforms, on the other hand, have often learned a harsh lesson about what it means to ignore these creators and influencers and try to steer the platforms in a different direction.
Riding the wave of digital technology
Whenever Instagram or YouTube changed their waves to match the energetic movements of their most active members, they seemed to succeed in tandem. And when platforms insisted on going their own way or weren’t committed to helping their most valuable users get ahead, they went down with the hapless creators (fortunately, as Lorenz often points out, many creators and influencers simply grabbed their swimwear and moved on another platform).
The book traces the early, pivotal role that mommy bloggers and fashion influencers played in the development of a creative culture and power economy. They have changed the way people talk about motherhood—sometimes at great personal cost. It’s shocking and disturbing how often the rise and fall of influencers ends in literal tragedy.
Lorenz aptly points out the racial inequalities that often plague the realm of creators and influencers, but surprisingly never mentions one of the world’s most successful creators, YouTuber Marques Brownlee, aka MKBHD. This may be because Brownlee stands out from the others, or perhaps it is because the book is primarily concerned with mainstream influential economics rather than those that have emerged around technology.
Golden era
As someone who lived through what was arguably the golden age of early social media, I particularly enjoyed the part of the book that chronicled its somewhat innocent early rise, the initial flowering of virality and memes, and the first group of rising online stars. .
Reading about Ben Lashes’ discovery of Grumpy Cat and the dwarf kitten’s appearance at Mashable House at SXSW 2013 (I was Mashable’s editor-in-chief at the time) took me back to those few days in March 2013 when I watched in amazement. as hundreds of people lined up to meet the eternally sleeping Tartar Sauce (the cat’s real name). At the time, I barely realized what a privilege it was to be a part of this and how quickly this moment and its relative innocence would pass.
Lorenz neatly ties together each era of the rise of the powerful and the creator economy. It was interesting to read how the concept of co-houses (tight groups of famous creators living in the same house or space) originated through Vine and YouTube and continues to this day on TikTok.
It also becomes clear throughout the book that the benefits of an overly online lifestyle almost match the costs it takes, especially for some of the most successful authors.
Influencer flow
The book tends to move from platform to platform, essentially where in each generation the influence and relevance was greatest. In the end, we come to TikTok, a platform that does everything that various platforms have tried to do over the past two decades, but better and more efficiently than most of them.
It does not examine in any detail Elon Musk’s takeover and overhaul of Twitter, nor does it address the abuse Lorenz suffered on the platform. However, she writes about the violence and misogyny that permeate virtually all online experiences and social media.
There’s perhaps a little too much questioning of internal, inter-group and creative discord here for my liking, but I think that’s more a product of my age and how far I’ve come from Grumpy Cat to Bella Poarch.
I’m getting older and less relevant while social media is constantly reinventing itself with new platforms, new stars and better ways to connect with audiences and, yes, their wallets.
Lorenz’s book in some ways illustrates how the more social networks and their stars change, the more they stay the same. The rise of influencers and online fame is ultimately not much different from the rise of other industries, filled with entrepreneurs and go-getters who are passionate about their field and believe in themselves. They will laugh because of the platforms—and often in spite of them.
If you want to understand why Italian model and fashion blogger Chiara Ferragni has 29 million Instagram followers, Zach King makes visual effects videos with Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, or how MrBeast made $21 million on YouTube in 2021, I suggest you read Extremely online.