The internet is a very different place than what it used to be.

Well, mostly…

What the internet used to be (even before my time) was a world of personal sites and forums centered around just sharing information. The only thing that has mostly changed is the cancerous spread of authoritative influence and the persistent enshitification of services that most people rely on. Tangents aside, the internet we all knew is still there, it’s just been amalgamated into the wider consumerist world around us.

People still often do post just for fun. If you explore the internet, or surf the web as they used to say, you can still find those creators who just see this as a way to express themselves or find other like-minded folks. There’s still personal blog sites— insert self promotion— and avid creators still adding to the information age, but most all of that is gatekept by algorithms and metrics. And when those algorithms find potential influence in someone, they’re typically hoisted to a position of popularity.

Soon, content creation shifts from a passion to a responsibility as their fan base grows. They become idolized; those fans in question form parasocial relationships with the creator. Before long, that responsibility becomes just an expectation. Those same fans start asking when the next thing is coming or why they’re doing something different than they had. Often, the stress either gets to the creator in question or the algorithm in question loses interest in them as whole and their content shifts from an expectation to an after thought.

Research shows that content creators face significant pressures due to the unpredictability of creativity generation, of the emergence of ‘hot’ topics and the uncertainty of platforms’ policies, which may require them to work out-of-hours or engage in extensive unpaid meta work to ensure the professionalism and continuity of their content.

— Yin Liang, Jiaming Li, and Edward Granter; Content Creation within the Algorithmic Environment: A Systematic Review

Creators come and go or they continue to chase that algorithm that got them to their position in the first place, morphing themselves along the way to stay in line.

Of course, this isn’t how it always has to be. A lot of content creators I follow play the game in their own ways. The part that always becomes a struggle though is balancing that expectation with the interest that got them there in the first place.

All this to preface that a video from one of the Pathfinder 2nd Edition YouTubers I watched came out reflecting on this very subject.

This whole sequence of events, having an intrinsic motivation to do something become usurped by an extrinsic obligation resulting in the loss of said motivation, has a label: overjustification effect. This phenomena, while present throughout human history, has become especially pronounced in the online world. It seems increasing frequent for people we follow to become ever more disinterested with what they had such a passion producing.

That’s part of what’s scared me about putting myself online; the idea of creating an image for myself along with an expectation to adhere to it felt so intimidating. That’s what’s been so enticing about #FOSS software: creating things with virtually no expectation of return. If I want to make something, I should just make it because I want to. If someone likes what I make and wants me to make something for them, it’s becomes an exchange just like for my web designs.

There has to be a distinction between what you’re making for fun and what you’re making for work, even if both take the same work and skill.

I made that mistake.

Unnecessary information about me: while I was working as a cashier, scrounging money together to get through college, I would be told by a different customer almost every day “you’ve got a voice made for radio”. I took it as just a regular compliment in the beginning, but after about a year of hearing it, I decided to actually give it a shot. I found a freelance service website called Fiverr and started my own page doing voiceovers.

In the beginning, it was a blast! Finding new processes, reading interesting things, and getting to brag about what I was doing felt great! But then, it started not to. As I got more and more job requests, I started to see the voiceovers as a chore. It was far from enough to afford living off of, so I was left balancing that, college, and the very cashier job that got me started. Eventually, I just stopped.

I still have my equipment and give sound advice to friends, but I haven’t felt that same urge to get back to recording like I had when I was first told I could do it.

I still worried I’m just repeating myself now. Writing seems like such a different thing— actually putting myself into my work rather than just reading what I’m told to, but I’m not sure. I won’t know. For now, this does still feel amusing. While it’s difficult to find something to reflect upon, once I start, it does feel increasingly natural.

Perhaps it’s that interest that’ll keep things coming as it ought to.