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A Look at the Dark Side of the Lives of Some Prominent YouTubers, Who Are Increasingly Saying They're Stressed, Depressed, Lonely, and Exhausted (theguardian.com)
Many YouTubers are finding themselves stressed, lonely and exhausted. The Guardian: For years, YouTubers have believed that they are loved most by their audience when they project a chirpy, grateful image. But what happens when the mask slips? This year there has been a wave of videos by prominent YouTubers talking about their burnout, chronic fatigue and depression. "This is all I ever wanted," said Elle Mills, a 20-year-old Filipino-Canadian YouTuber in a (monetised) video entitled Burnt Out At 19, posted in May. "And why the fuck am I so unfucking unhappy? It doesn't make any sense. You know what I mean? Because, like, this is literally my fucking dream. And I'm fucking so un-fucking-happy."
[...] The anxieties are tied up with the relentless nature of their work. Tyler Blevins, AKA Ninja, makes an estimated $500,000 every month via live broadcasts of him playing the video game Fortnite on Twitch, a service for livestreaming video games that is owned by Amazon. Most of Blevins' revenue comes from Twitch subscribers or viewers who provide one-off donations (often in the hope that he will thank them by name "on air"). Blevins recently took to Twitter to complain that he didn't feel he could stop streaming. "Wanna know the struggles of streaming over other jobs?" he wrote, perhaps ill-advisedly for someone with such a stratospheric income. "I left for less than 48 hours and lost 40,000 subscribers on Twitch. I'll be back today... grinding again." There was little sympathy on Twitter for the millionaire. But the pressure he described is felt at every level of success, from the titans of the content landscape all the way down to the people with channels with just a few thousand subscribers, all of whom feel they must be constantly creating, always available and responding to their fans.
"Constant releases build audience loyalty," says Austin Hourigan, who runs ShoddyCast, a YouTube channel with 1.2 million subscribers. "The more loyalty you build, the more likely your viewers are to come back, which gives you the closest thing to a financial safety net in what is otherwise a capricious space." When a YouTuber passes the 1 million subscribers mark, they are presented with a gold plaque to mark the event. Many of these plaques can be seen on shelves and walls in the background of presenters' rooms. In this way, the size of viewership and quantity of uploads become the main markers of value.
[...] The anxieties are tied up with the relentless nature of their work. Tyler Blevins, AKA Ninja, makes an estimated $500,000 every month via live broadcasts of him playing the video game Fortnite on Twitch, a service for livestreaming video games that is owned by Amazon. Most of Blevins' revenue comes from Twitch subscribers or viewers who provide one-off donations (often in the hope that he will thank them by name "on air"). Blevins recently took to Twitter to complain that he didn't feel he could stop streaming. "Wanna know the struggles of streaming over other jobs?" he wrote, perhaps ill-advisedly for someone with such a stratospheric income. "I left for less than 48 hours and lost 40,000 subscribers on Twitch. I'll be back today... grinding again." There was little sympathy on Twitter for the millionaire. But the pressure he described is felt at every level of success, from the titans of the content landscape all the way down to the people with channels with just a few thousand subscribers, all of whom feel they must be constantly creating, always available and responding to their fans.
"Constant releases build audience loyalty," says Austin Hourigan, who runs ShoddyCast, a YouTube channel with 1.2 million subscribers. "The more loyalty you build, the more likely your viewers are to come back, which gives you the closest thing to a financial safety net in what is otherwise a capricious space." When a YouTuber passes the 1 million subscribers mark, they are presented with a gold plaque to mark the event. Many of these plaques can be seen on shelves and walls in the background of presenters' rooms. In this way, the size of viewership and quantity of uploads become the main markers of value.
You realize how much money a YouTuber with 1 million subscribers makes? It is mind boggling. Yeah, more than IT. Sure, it's "stressful" because you have to film, edit, and upload. Poor babies. Then there's all the "merch" to sell. It's just like a real business! I say, good for you. You did it. Now stop whining, you dumb fuck.
How about a moderation of -1 pedantic.
If you're making 500k a month. Suck it up. Bank that money for a bit. Quit. And go enjoy a nice life off the properly invested money.
Jesus. What whiners.
If you earn in a month 6 times more than what professionals in other industries earn in a year, how about just quit after a few months? Learn some financial managment (ie, don't spend more than you have) and be set for life.
Those who do not learn from commit history are doomed to regress it.
Tyler Blevins, AKA Ninja, makes an estimated $500,000 every month via live broadcasts of him playing the video game Fortnite on Twitch, a service for livestreaming video games that is owned by Amazon. Most of Blevins' revenue comes from Twitch subscribers or viewers who provide one-off donations (often in the hope that he will thank them by name "on air"). Blevins recently took to Twitter to complain that he didn't feel he could stop streaming. "Wanna know the struggles of streaming over other jobs?" he wrote, perhaps ill-advisedly for someone with such a stratospheric income. "I left for less than 48 hours and lost 40,000 subscribers on Twitch. I'll be back today... grinding again."
So in essence he's complaining he has to work every day to earn his high salary. What did he think, that he could just stop working and continue to get paid to do nothing?
Does he really do it all himself? Seriously, hire a team and cut the stress level by a huge margin.
They're unhappy because they've chosen an extremely shallow and meaningless avocation and have mistaken it for meaningful achievement and lasting contribution to the greater good. They're unhappy because they're beginning to realize the complete futility and meaningless of what they're doing with their lives. They're the modern, digital equivalent of 30-year-old hockey scores. No one will care or even know about them two or three years from now and they'll be left pondering how and why they've wasted some of the prime years of their lives. I hope they're saving whatever money they're making so they at least have a nest egg to finance something meaningful that will make them happy.
For years, YouTubers have believed that they are loved most by their audience when they project a chirpy, grateful image.
ok, let me stop you there.
"youtubers" as a specific genre or style of presentation and platform is way more narrow than "people posting to youtube". I'm not saying you're wrong, but let's be clear on what we're talking about. This is a specific "cultural trend", like how all air traffic controllers are trying to sound like that one NASA employee in Houston they heard announcing the countdown for Apollo. Or how drill sergeants all wish they were Gunny (RIP). Or how all Slashdotters are neckbeards.
But I get you. "youtubers" as a genre. The sort of stuff you see Youtube recommend when you go there without a history. The "common denominator". And personally? FUCK THAT NOISE. It is the most banal and fake shit I can imagine and it grates on my nerves whenever I hear it. If the talking heads are sad about having to maintain a fake personality, WELCOME TO TELEVISION. It's a job. In other news, Keisha isn't really drunk 24/7, CNN reporters aren't staring into the void with half-dead eyes outside of work, and that cure girl working retail isn't actually that happy to see you.
a 20-year-old Filipino-Canadian YouTuber in a (monetised) video entitled Burnt Out At 19, posted in May. "And why the fuck am I so unfucking unhappy? It doesn't make any sense. You know what I mean? Because, like, this is literally my fucking dream. And I'm fucking so un-fucking-happy."
....Really? Wow. Ok, this is so over the top it must be a hit-piece by an old codger at the Guardian. I guess giving people reasons to hate millenials pays?
I don't think I've heard of a "celebrity" that doesn't whine. The whinier, the celebritier.
not for those making a killing. There are tons of people creating great videos (or other works) out there on the internet that are just trying, and often failing, to make a living from it; those people I have a lot of sympathy for. People like the two guys behind Cool Ghosts, who amongst other things have put out perhaps the best video game review 'TV' episodes of all time.
By contrast, people that are making enough they could easily retire and live an extremely comfortable life for the rest of their days? Those I don't have sympathy for. They aren't actually stuck in any real rut, and their artistic output tends to be a lot less laudable anyways.
It's an age-old problem and dichotomy. It brings to mind the song "Coup D'etat" by Sleepless Nights, about the music industry:
Who killed Sam The Record Man?
Music fans with blood-stained hands
"God damn, Celine sold less Greatest Hits this year"
The only hearts that beat close to mind
Are the casualties of the retail line
Part time artists, Scraping bottom and barely getting by
Brace yourselves, here comes the Coup D'Etat
There goes the old dead world
Rebuild, rebuild, rebuild, rebuild, now
Brace yourselves, here comes the shakeup shift
Golf carts are crashing hard
And I could really give a shit
For old Gene Simmons and tin-can Lars
Need their hands on my money like a hole in the heart
Art needs to suffer, not drive expensive cars
Aluminum and plastic, and more plastic still
Making mountains of ephemera in the county landfill
I remember when rare sound wasn't just a ratio kill
Brace yourselves, here comes the Coup D'Etat . . .
I remember sigs. Oh, a simpler time!
There was little sympathy on Twitter for the millionaire.
This. Fucking arseholes. You think such an income comes for free? You think regular people who do actual work for their money don't get stressed? People who earn your money in a year have higher job demands, so STFU.
Most of the "YouTubers" that I've had any exposure to (thankfully, very few) don't know how to do anything else and have never held an actual job for any length of time. They don't have any idea what life outside YouTube looks like. Most people who have had an actual career understand very well that higher salaries come with higher demands and very often with higher stress levels. We can easily extrapolate and understand that we could probably earn twice as much as we do now, and what the cost would be.
I've been a CEO in my life. I honestly don't want again. I prefer having a life, thank you. I'm more happy now, and trying to get rid of the last remnants from that time, the last requests and demands.
YouTubers, from what I understand, are similar to musicians or actors. Most of them have little audience and very small incomes, but a relatively low number of stars goes through the roof. It's a steep curve with a small tip. So your choice is to be on top or not, there's not much of a middle where you can be comfortable with acceptable stress level and income.
But you know what? That's a choice you made. Give me half a million a month and I'll be happy to work my arse off 24 hours a day seven days a week for a year, invest most of the profit nicely, then retire back to my current job, but live at a higher comfort level because my house is paid off and I still have a few millions in a nice portfolio that gives me a really nice passive income.
Oh yeah, I forgot. I have an actual profession that I can go back to. Poor YouTuber. Maybe spend your money on learning something? That's what smart pro-athletes do, who understand the most clearly that they can't be a soccer player or runner or jumper for many years.
Assorted stuff I do sometimes: Lemuria.org