It's not that deep: the algorithmic rage trap of social media
Because engagement = profit
My favourite type of content online is well-researched, nuanced opinion pieces. Shocking no one. I love a nuanced take about anything from films to music to generational divides to politics to gender to fast fashion. I am, for all of my troubles, a deeply serious person.
I am also incapable of scrolling past a fart joke or cat content. I’m not a total monster.
So, naturally, my least favourite type of comment — fuck me, I wish I could stop the compulsion to look at comments sections — is “it’s not that deep”.
Because most of the time, it usually is.
Art will always be that deep
One of my favourite TikTokers is Jamaal Burkmar. A choreographer and content creator, he shares a lot of interesting and nuanced takes about art, society, and, in many cases, the practice of online consumption.
“Art will always be that deep”, he explained in a video recently. And it’s a phrase that pops into my head again and again as I catch myself trying to shake my compulsion to intellectualise everything I consume.
You should know that I am not a person who enjoys things “a normal amount”. Once I latch on to a piece of media or a tidbit of information, I instinctively go on an internet, book, and wider media research deep dive to find out everything I can about that thing. This isn’t new either. I spent many of my lunchbreaks at school combing through Green Day forums to learn as much as I could about the band members, songs, writing process, and touring stories because American Idiot and subsequently their full back catalogue became my entire identity.
I’m not saying that this is right way or the only way to engage with art. But art will always be political and should be treated with the respect and consideration it deserves. Does everything need to become an essay or a think piece? No. Do we need to regularly practice media literacy and proactive engagement with art? Yes.
Saying “it’s not that deep”, whether it’s about a painting or the latest disappointing instalment in the MCU, does a huge disservice to the creators and lets a lot of people off the hook for its faults. Those faults are often political choices.
Critiques, interpretations, and diversity of opinion
Every time I watch a film, I log it on Letterboxd, give it a star rating, and occasionally I’ll write a sentence or two about my thoughts. Then and only then do I look through the reviews other people have left for what I’ve just watched. I don’t want other people’s experiences to provide any assumptions or preconceptions about the film.
Partially, I do this because I love a witty one-liner in-joke about the film. And partially, I’m genuinely curious how other people have perceived and interpreted the film I’ve just watched.
This is an important way to poke my head out of my socialist, intellectualised, queer, neurodivergent echo chamber. Social media is algorithmic, so TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube all show me content from creators I already subscribe to or those with world views similar to my own. So I hop on Letterboxd to get the general vibe from those who are not algorithmically delivered to me.
My latest venture into this routine was late last month, when I got home from seeing Fantastic Four: First Steps. A film that made me deeply uncomfortable within the first 20-30 minutes and I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was deeply, inherently wrong with this film’s messaging. I combed through the reviews to see if anyone at all saw the film the same way as me. They did not.
The average score on Letterbox (at the time of writing) is 3.7. Which is particularly high for an MCU film. With many reviews talking about how “we are so back” or the “best thing the MCU has done since Endgame”.
If you’re curious, I gave it 2.5 stars. And I think the .5 may be generous.
The trap of the algorithmic rage machine
“Art will always be that deep” was Burkmar’s video response to a comment left on a video of his criticising a film that he’d recently watched.
I can’t remember which video or which film this was about as this is a cycle he has been stuck in for a while. Drop a nuanced take about a film, art, music, or wider society. Comments are flooded with just as many “it’s not that deep” comments as those in support or entering genuine discussion about his points. Reply to one of those comments and further perpetuate the rage machine of algorithmic social media.
To be clear, this is not a criticism of Burkmar at all. I really enjoy his videos, have made the most of several excellent film recommendations from him, and have broadened my wider media horizons thanks to a lot of his content. This is an observation about the perpetual rage machines we carry in our pockets.
Arguing in the comments
Even though I think about this stuff a lot, I am far from immune to this trap. I don’t even make content on TikTok, I just have private account from which I sometimes leave comments. And I commented on one of Jamaal’s videos about the Fantastic Four film.
My biggest problem with the film is the specific choices they made to ignore the absolute horror of what Sue Storm was put through. Yes, the rest of the film is about stopping Galactus and saving their family. But there are two hugely horrific things that happen to Sue in quick succession in the early stages of the film that are never addressed in the dialogue or given space to be expressed through Sue’s actions. It’s simply treated as a standard plot point to drive the narrative forward.
TikTok comments don’t provide enough space to say all of that, so I summarised as best I could. And was met with a bunch of replies telling me I obviously wasn’t paying attention and “did you even watch the film”, subsequently pointing to the very narrative these horrific events were used to enable.
I’m well-versed enough in this process now that I just ignore those sorts of replies. However, I completely understand the pull many creators feel to respond to them. In fact, they’re often criticised if they don’t.
Feeding the rage machine
Over the years, I’ve seen many creators get stuck in this response to a response to a response cycle. It’s something I notice most frequently on TikTok but I’m sure it happens on other platforms as well. Often we see cries of “this is clearly rage bait” on videos with spelling mistakes, “bad” takes, or incorrect captioning.
What many people don’t seem to realise is that commenting on videos or posts they disagree with is simply read as engagement so the algorithms will serve you more of that creator and other similar content. So you have more people to be angry at. More bad takes to take down. More anger and rage and it’s-not-that-deeps to add to your daily tally.
There is a lot more nuance out there than the rage machines in our pockets would have us believe. Nuance doesn’t sell. And it doesn’t keep people on platforms long enough for them to make money advertising to you. It’s long been known in the world of social media that emotion = engagement. Relatable self deprecation? Like. Fart jokes. Like. Community-specific memes and in-jokes. Like and share. Nuanced reviews of films and TV. Like and comment. Politically unnuanced takes and blanket statements. Comment. Comment again. Reply to other comments. Get in an argument in the comments.
Curate your feeds (but also touch grass)
I’m not big on the whole "just delete social media" thing. I don’t think it’s helpful or realistic. What I am a huge fan of is deliberate feed curation. Which is easier on some platforms than others.
A good litmus test on highly algorithm-driven platforms like TikTok is to notice how someone’s content makes you feel. If it makes you feel angry or uncomfortable two or three times, block them. Nice and simple and it means it won’t show up again.
This is not advice to bury your head in the sand of your echo chamber. But you do have more control than you think over the algorithms that continue to shape your world view. And it’s all about context, right?
If someone’s content makes you feel uncomfortable because it challenges your worldview in a thoughtful way, especially one that makes you question your thoughts, actions, and beliefs, it could be worth keeping them around. When I say to remove discomfort from your feeds, I don’t mean personal growth. I mean things like blocking fitness creators if you’re recovering from an eating disorder. Blocking channels or pages that constantly do shopping hauls if you’re in (or thinking about) the slow fashion world. Blocking creators who are consistently misogynistic, racist, or harmful in other ways.
I’m a sucker for review sites. I love scrolling through Letterboxd (films) and The Storygraph (books). Try to find little ways to poke your head out of your echo chamber to see how other people interact with the world.
And remember that there is a high chance that trolls in the comments are actually just bots. Or Lex Luther’s rage bait monkeys.

