Into the narrative multiverse
Thoughts on the fragmentation of popular culture and media consumption, and what it all means for communications planning.
Britain loves a great comeback story. The gallant loser hits their lowest ebb but emerges triumphant, wowing the crowds again with their greatness. Think Gazza in Euro 96, David Beckham securing World Cup qualification in 2002 and Take That reforming for a glorious (if now overly elongated) swansong.
One wonders if this is what David Cameron hopes for - launching one of the most unlikely comeback bids for a while. To quote my wife, is he hoping that we've all conveniently forgotten that he kickstarted the whole Brexit mess? That we'll forgive and forget?
If there is one positive we can thank David Cameron and his band of merry ruiners for, it's opening our eyes to the fact that there is no such thing as a monoculture anymore - if there ever was. I was undoubtedly guilty, pre-Brexit referendum, of thinking that my world was broadly representative of the country at large.
Brexit, Trump and the post-2016 reckoning firmly removed the scales from my eyes. What we see isn't all there is, to misquote Daniel Kahneman. There's no single, unifying narrative that sits behind major news stories and significant trends. For everyone pleased to see the back of Suella Braverman, there's someone else concerned at the Tory party "going woke". Our understanding and awareness of the narrative multiverse have only been enhanced by the rise of TikTok and the decline of the central newsfeed.
Even though we worried about filter bubbles on Facebook and Twitter in the late 2010s, there was still plenty of main character energy to those platforms. Specific stories and trends were big enough to permeate bubbles and become nearly ubiquitous.
That doesn't happen on TikTok - you could spend hours a day on the platform and still only scratch the surface of what's trending. TikTok nullifies the concept of trending topics. Everything is trending, somewhere, for someone. And if everything is trending, nothing is trending.
That's one of the reasons that many media outlets struggle to get on board with TikTok. The media loved Twitter and Facebook as there were similarities between those newsfeeds and the central decision-making dynamics of running a newspaper or website.
Trending topics and viral news stories represented an editorial agenda; journalists and subeditors could get a handle on the "stories of the day" and use those as fodder for their articles. (For a long time, the morning Metro was simply a summary of what happened on Twitter the day before).
TikTok eschews this simple analogue - everyone's FYP is different. There isn't the same collection of journalists and influencers creating a filter bubble of hot topics. Like Snapchat before it, TikTok feels murky and alien at first. Anyone coming fresh to the app needs to let themselves get sucked in and see where the algorithm takes them.
The other reason that Twitter appealed so much to the media fraternity was its origins as a text-based platform. There was a fundamental skill in writing in 140 characters back in the day - for a profession trained on brevity, it was a welcoming second home. Again, the video-led TikTok couldn't be more different. And plenty of media outlets are still feeling burned by the last time they tried "pivoting to video", chasing the Facebook virality phenomenon.
All that arguably explains why, as the ever-prescient Taylor Lorenz highlighted in the Washington Post recently, what we once called "citizen journalists" are leading the way for news on TikTok. Lorenz highlights various creators in her piece, all with significant followings, all tapping into the younger demographics' desire to experience news in "more accessible, informal, and entertaining" ways.
Relevance is also a critical factor here. TikTok users often talk about the app's algorithms knowing them better than they know themselves. Consuming news on the platform means you're only likely to be served stories that align with your interests - unlike browsing a website or following a media outlet on social, where you need to be your own filter.
We know from previous Reuters Institute reports that people, especially young people, turn away from mainstream news because it's depressing and doesn't align with their interests. TikTok creators have no editorial agenda, no obligation to report on conflict in the Middle East or the latest Cabinet reshuffle. They can focus on what their audience is interested in - the climate crisis, amateur sleuthing, pop culture, or whatever they like.
For a media outlet to embrace this reporting style requires a rethink in approach - it's more complex than taking front-page news stories and optimising them for social. It requires a greater level of audience understanding and immersion in their worlds.
The Washington Post, a TikTok early adopter, has approached this challenge by taking a leaf out of the brand marketing on TikTok book. They contracted V Spehar, creator of @UnderTheDeskNews, to contribute to the Post's TikTok account. Others will follow a similar blueprint or hire TikTok natives to help fill this gap.
This divergence in news consumption, with younger demographics looking to TikTok and the rest of us sticking with the outlets and channels we've always used, also raises many questions for brands. "Multichannel thinking" has been a buzz phrase for a long time, but multichannel often translates to "press release plus". A press release, plus images, plus video, plus an influencer partnership.
The core of an idea, in comms at least, still starts with the words, with the narrative. Is that applicable to the TikTok information age? Do we need a more fundamental rethink of where campaigns begin to cater for this more fragmented news landscape?
To answer this question, I've turned to an unlikely source - the world of crossover boxing. The second best piece I've read during my gardening leave (after the Taylor Swift long read from the New York Times) is Clive Martin's "Gods and Influencers" in The Face. Clive takes an AAA look at the recent KSI vs Tommy Fury bout in Manchester, and honestly, it was one of the most eye-opening pieces I've read in a long time. I consider myself reasonably well-versed in popular culture, but the sheer size, scope and megabucks popularity of crossover boxing passed me by. The Fury KSI fight was set up like a "proper" boxing event, with an undercard, weigh-in, and all the boxing trimmings. And it was a proper big deal, with "proper" boxing journalists covering the fight.
As well as opening my eyes to a world I've had little exposure to, thanks to my filter bubble, the other thing Clive Martin's piece highlighted was how multi-layered the Fury KSI circus was. You had the central, more traditionally celeb-driven narrative of "proper boxer fights a YouTuber" that the mainstream media covered. But alongside that was the event's primary role of "content creation studio".
The actual fight was secondary to the hours of hot takes, reaction videos, and BTS access content filmed on the night. Creators have a video pipeline to fill; the algorithm is always hungry for the new, the next big thing. The headline fight and those on the undercard exist to help fill this pipeline; it doesn't matter if the boxing is a bit rubbish. The content that comes out of the event is the thing.
And that's a potential jumping-off point for brands looking to campaign and communicate against the backdrop of a narrative multiverse. Coming up with ideas that have, to quote Alex Murrell, the length and the width and the space to expand into. Big ideas that don't rely on one big moment or one big sell-in. Ideas that tap into more significant trends and provide room for influencers and content creators to get involved and add their spin.
Successfully bringing big ideas like these to life in such a multiversal way isn't for everyone, as it means giving up complete control of every detail. It requires your idea to be strong enough to work in the background, for your key messages not to be front and centre of every asset and output. But relinquishing some of this control can pay dividends in terms of the breadth of appeal of your campaign.
All this isn't to say that centrally-driven multichannel campaigns have become ineffective. Broadcast is still statistically the most popular news medium; 1 in 5 people under 24 use TikTok as a source for news, meaning 4 out of 5 people use something else. The rise of TikTok as a news source isn't another "everyone must pivot to video" moment.
Like any good trend, the influence of TikTok and younger demographics on how we communicate and build campaigns happens slowly and almost imperceptibly. The trick is to try and spot the trend early and experiment with it while it's still new. Otherwise, you may need a dramatic comeback story to take advantage of the trend properly - and who knows, by then, it may all feel a bit David Cameroon - too little, too late.