TikTok: time to question the effect on Gen Z’s body image and self-worth?

 

I’m not sure about you, but I can just about remember those times pre-pandemic when the outside world was quite entertaining – whether it was going for drinks with friends,  going to the theatre with family or sacking off plans altogether to order 3 share boxes of cheesy bites from Maccies (wait, just me?). Post-pandemic, we are perhaps channelling this energy into our phones. Every Sunday night I ignore the dreaded weekly “screen-time” update; knowing it’ll be shamefully high. But while twitter feels like a live stream of the Armageddon, and Instagram has everyone’s perfectly-baked banana bread, TikTok’s frivolous video silliness is the perfect lockdown antidote.

But, with TikTok fast becoming the social media star of lockdown, the app favoured by Under 25s could be damaging Gen Z’s view of their self-worth and body confidence.  The vine-esque short video sharing app now has over 800 million users worldwide, a figure which has likely increased since lockdown restrictions began. Nearly 50% of these users are aged between 16-24. But as the amount of users increases, so too does the levels of power and influence TikTok has on society. I look at a viral trend prolific on the app this week, the implications for young people’s self-esteem and what, if anything, we can do about it.

“Back Profile Check!”

The reminder on TikTok of the continued lack of progress in how society policies women’s bodies is all too familiar, if never unsurprising. But TikTok is a completely new subculture.  I can’t help but notice the amount of suspect content cropping up on the app that seems to induce feelings of body insecurity; which no one seems to be questioning. Body shaming messages somehow manage to infect every social media platform it’s within 2 metres of. TikTok loves a challenge – an example this week is the “Back Face” challenge. It is, quite simply, a challenge whereby users film their back profile to see what they look like from behind (with the ideal seen as a curvy bum but thin waist). The majority of these videos end with girls criticising their “back profile check!”. One video even included the caption “I actually like mine” with a sad face emoji – as if showing appreciation for our bodies is something strange or shameful. Comments included “well there goes my confidence, excuse me while I pass away’ and “My self-esteem did not need this today”. While intending to be funny and satirically mock their insecurities, these comments make me feel a little uneasy.

I spoke to one user who had  taken part in this challenge who said ‘I am so ashamed’ after pointing out her visible “hip dips”. She said “Before I saw it on TikTok, I didn’t even know what hip dips were. So now I’m insecure about something I didn’t even know was considered “bad”’.  In fact, hips dips are naturally occurring indentations where our hips meet our thighs as a result of bone structure. Perhaps ignorance is best.

There are also thousands of “What I Eat in a Day’ videos made by girls who look no older than 18, whereby ‘breakfast’ consists of just a cup of coffee. While the user who makes these videos likely doesn’t intend to cause harm, these unhealthy ideas and proclamations of self-criticism seem to spread from girl to girl like a virus. Perhaps soon Covid-19 won’t be the only pandemic we will be grappling with.

It becomes a vicious circle of self-sabotage.

The toxicity of these trends on TikTok are driven by a smart algorithm that quickly learns what content users engage with and provides more of the same on their ‘for you’ page. It becomes a vicious circle of self-sabotage.  Even due to researching these trends for this piece, the algorithm has provided more of these videos on my feed. And, quite frankly, I want the #dogsoftikok content back on my page please.

These trends demonstrate that we still have a huge problem with how society relentlessly policies and criticises women’s bodies.  At best, daily exposure to this kind of content can be tiresome. At worst, it can aggravate existing self-confidence struggles and fuel dangerous body image issues for the young female audience.

A stitch in time saves nine. What we can we do about it?

It’s always easy to blame the social media platform. And the big companies behind them. But we don’t blame the telephone for the things people say – as much as I’d like to when its student finance ringing me up for the 10^th time this year to see if I’m still yet to get a proper job (yep, cheers SFE still haven’t). Certainly, the decision makers at TikTok can and should do more; such as monitoring content that promotes these harmful messages. It should make users more aware of the “Not Interested” app feature – enabling users to hide content from certain  accounts if they are finding it triggering. There is also a growing concern about the content algorithm – an interviewee I spoke to said “Videos with my body in seem to get onto people’s For You page more easily”.

But, ultimately, this type of body shaming content will always exist on social media in a society which continues to police women’s bodies. In Naomi Wolf’s seminal work (a must-read imo) she calls this idea “The Beauty Myth”. This is a lie that society feeds women; that this thing called ‘beauty’ universally exists and women must want to embody it. We have made progress in the last 15 years or so, with more women feeling empowered to critique mass cultural ideals. However, as Wolf points out, like a virus, the beauty myth has a tendency to mutate and check mate women’s attempts to increase their powers. Perhaps women were getting too confident – so we must give them new insecurities – such as hip dips – to keep them in their place. If they spend more time obsessing over their appearance, that’s less time pursuing their goals. These unrealistic expectations and frustrating contradictions are perfectly captured in all their male gaze glory in Camille Rainville’s poem “Be a Lady They Said”.

We must take body confidence education seriously and incorporate the effect of social media into every discussion. Only then can we start to take more responsibility for the impact social media has on society.

All in Good Time

But enough of the negative stuff – that’s not what we need right now. There are many people making a huge difference in this area and we need more of it. One great example is activist Jameela Jamil’s campaign “I Weigh”. This movement aims to encourage young people to carefully choose the content they consume and to promote identities that have nothing to do with physical appearance or the number on the weighing scale.  It encourages brands to display a variety of bodies to increase normalisation of different body types. The reason I love this movement is that it acknowledges that looking a certain way might be really important to you, but it need not define you. It is just one aspect of a multi-faceted identity that makes you the woman you choose to be. Choice is the key here.

Any anyway, in many ways ,perhaps TikTok came just in time. As long as we self-monitor our social media use for how its making us feel, there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy it. TikTok is often dubbed “the last sunny corner of the internet’. This I can vouch for . From unbelievably relatable videos about funny things parents do that have me think we’ve all lived the same life, to finding myself invested in someone’s lockdown garage renovation project. At a time when the world grapples with an indefinite period of social distancing, TikTok offers a sense of connectivity that makes us feel closer than ever. It can feel like a much-needed silly oasis. While I have resigned to the fact I won’t be TikTok famous anytime soon, to the users that create these hilarious videos: I am indebted to you. You have been a lockdown game-changer for me. God knows how many books you’ve saved me from reading.

Lucy Williamson

Featured image courtesy of Solen Feyissa on Unsplash. This image has in no way been altered. Image license is available here.