Tick, tick, tick: we have ways of making you tok

Why Substack’ll never be TikTok

A fellow on the Substack equivalent of Prime Minister’s question time—an occasional get-together of writers, content producers and a panel of people who work for Substack, to answer our questions—asked whether we couldn’t perhaps post videos to garner interest from the junior end of the age scale. Some opined that that would turn Substack into another TikTok, and some thought it was an interesting idea, and I said, “Tell us your thoughts and we’ll look at them in whatever format you present them. It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”

Well, wouldn’t you just know it, you can now put videos up on Substack. Sitôt dit, sitôt fait. Not actually wanting to portray my better side to the Substack-viewing public (although a decorator was just at the house and remarked that I was very good looking, and I’m not even the client—gave him a gold star and maybe get him to paint my wagon); so my dulcet tones are all you’re going to be getting from me in terms of live performances for now, and that even though I’m not sure that Substack is in any way set to become another TikTok. And that that, like so many things, gave me pause for thought.

TikTok and, increasingly Instagram, and other vid-enraptured portals, I’m sure, cater to the rage for moving pictures, cryptic films and sideways V-shapes made with the index and middle fingers. Seeing young people all cavorting around is what draws people to TikTok in the first place, and it is the proximity between it and the Chinese Communist Party that kind-of keeps me at bay.

Now, there will be people who are just itching to comment back to me, “You don’t know nuffinck, mate, look at all the data breaches, sales, scrapes and shoplifts by Google, YouTube, Meta, X (formerly Twitter)—” (which, I think, only gets ubiquitously added to the X so as to annoy its proprietor. In Charleroi, they changed South Station’s name to Central Station, but not to Central Station (formerly South Station). And at least that bit of Carolo info would have been useful.) But, to be honest, my data security is generally taken care of by my browser, search engine and virus scan and those who say, Just google it get my response, Just deliver thyself up to the altar of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Go on, just do it.

TikTok is what it is in order to attract the youngsters. And attract them it does. In their droves. And droves are not quite my thing. Because they sometimes jump on band wagons. The CCP is a bit of band wagon, but is under firm control. “You don’t know nuffinck, mate, look at—” Yes, I promise I will.

In short, I can say nothing about anything without someone telling me I’ve got it all wrong and they know much better. But, besides telling me they know so much better, they don’t actually tell me what it is that they know that is better. Unlike F1 drivers, who drive the course the day before to familiarise themselves with the bends and the chicanes and the best corners for raising their car off the ground, I kind-of react to one warning sign at a time. Hump-back bridge ahead. Double bend, first to the right, then, thank God, to the left. Beware of low-flying aircraft or sudden aircraft noise (for which I always open the window, so as to be prepared for the suddenness of that noise). And that old favourite: beware of low-flying motorcycles.

Naturally, those who advertise on TikTok do so out of consideration for the portal’s own target age group. I’ve never been on TikTok, but can I presume that Refreshers, breath mints, strapless bras and padded-front gentlemen’s underwear are to be found there? Sneakers and basketball boots? Skip caps? Chicago’s Bull and Manchester’s United? I bet they don’t advertise too many stair lifts, waist-corsets, laxatives or suppositories.

Now, there is a theory that those who wish to get close to the young for nefarious purposes will don a guise that instils authority, reliability and accountability, so as to rob them of their money, their assets and their innocence. I once modelled for Bunty magazine in my early youth, but I don’t believe I ever purchased a copy of Bunty magazine, because I think it would have been very uninteresting for me and because, on reflection, I think the newsagent would have cast me a very askance glare. But there are no newsagents on TikTok, and, if there are, none of them glares at anyone suspected of doing nefarious wrong.

Substack will never become like TikTok for the simple reason that it has no influencers, only those who influence and those who think they are influencers. But not influencers as such. And, to boot, it has no advertising, other than for itself. And that, more than anything, will keep it the preserve of a certain type of reader that tends to be untypical on TikTok: one who reads. However, once the kids migrate here … boy, then we really have them in a double bind: damned if they do, damned if they don’t!