In 2020, the New York Times editorial board had a straightforward mandate: to back a single Democratic Presidential nominee. However, due to what they referred to as ‘a departure from tradition’, they made the surprising move of endorsing two candidates, Amy Klobuchar and Elizabeth Warren – a decision that arguably reflected broader uncertainty not just within the Times, but also among the decision-makers and influencers in the globe. These pivotal figures, in the months leading up to this event in late 2019, had revealed a seemingly waning confidence, as epitomised by the Booker Prize being controversially shared between Margaret Atwood and Bernardine Evaristo. There appeared to be an unsettling shift in cultural confidence and judgement.
This incident comes back into memory not simply because another American election is forthcoming, but also because the distinguished award season of 2024 is winding down with the Oscars slated for Sunday night. Deciding the winners of coveted honours such as the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance Film Festival, Best New Artist at the Grammy’s, or Best Original Screenplay at the Oscars widely hinges on an assertive panel of judges who are able to rightfully appraise art. The global decision makers and influencers who shape the art we consume surely impact the content produced across multiple genres – ranging from films and box-office results, music on mainstream radio and possibly even the results of electoral processes. Hence, it could at least be hoped that they exhibit more conviction in their decision-making than they did in 2020.
As we navigate through 2024, the importance of human-centric artistic selection seems to be more vital than ever. Highlighting this is a recent book by New Yorker writer Kyle Chayka titled ‘Filterworld: How Algorithms Flattened Culture’. Chayka argues that the rise of social media and streaming platforms has led to an erosion of the quality and diversity of our content consumption. In his view, Filterworld accuses the introduction of algorithms and the subsequent loss of a human touch as the culprits. Hence, it seems all the more pertinent that our consumption patterns are governed by humans and not machines.
Spotify has suggested a playlist titled ‘Songs to Sing in the Car’ to me today, which encompasses music from Taylor Swift, Harry Styles and Fleetwood Mac, all of whom I am a fan of. Meanwhile, Netflix recommends Bridgerton and the latest series ‘One Day’ as I have previously watched Gossip Girl. My TikTok line-up includes a woman baking biscuits, a Yorkshire terrier video from Crufts and a clip of The Crown. Essentially, it proves effortless for the algorithms that operate my iPhone to provide an array of content I will assuredly enjoy.
However, this is the very issue, as Chayka articulates. These platforms guide me towards the path with the least pushback: although the content mildly amuses me, it doesn’t necessarily stimulate or expand my horizons. This might be inconsequential if we’re content living in a monotonous world, filled with Harry Styles, The Crown and Yorkshire terriers, but void of unusual jazz tunes and unpopular dog breeds like the Belgian Malinois. Optimally, the solution to this issue lies in weaving the human curation element, which is slowly fading, back into the picture.
Indeed, this is not purely an issue for the arts world but poses substantial concern for the welfare of the wider media ecosystem. The introduction of social media has undeniably revolutionised classic media in significant ways, bringing both positive and negative outcomes. Suddenly, anyone could be a citizen journalist, bypassing the professional restrictions, training, rules and motivations that typically come with the role. Consequently, Twitter has developed into a turbulent space filled with disinformation, primarily attributable to algorithmic processes that prioritise popularity and engagement over professional ethics and traditional media regulations. This is not a minor problem limited to who will secure the Best Actress title; it affects the broader health of the political sphere profoundly.
Filterworld’s emergence is not solely an account of how culture has been detrimentally impacted by algorithms, but rather it’s also a contention: human beings should be the ones shaping our consumeristic tendencies, not automated systems. Misjudgements occur persistently – as evidenced by the misstep during the 2019 Booker Prize – but it is preferable that these lapses be the responsibility of a human, rather than a cautious computation performed by a computer. Without human curation, it becomes incredibly challenging to comprehend the news milieu on platforms such as Twitter and TikTok; a predicament that may also apply to artistic preferences.
Alarms are raised when the so-called arbiters of taste in the arts start to doubt their own verdicts. WB Yeats, in The Second Coming, suggests the notion that “the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of vigorous zeal”. However, I am not as convinced of this assertion any longer but, given a choice, I would always opt for the fervour of a film critic rather than the indifference of a machine.