Memefests may be fun but it’s about time some restraints were put in place
Every now and then, a jaw-dropping story takes TikTok by storm and morphs into a meme. This week, it was the tale of 33-year-old New Yorker Onijah Andrew Robinson, who flew to Karachi, Pakistan, to be with Nidal Ahmed Memon, a 19-year-old man she reportedly met online. It became a viral sensation that offers an unfortunate and familiar lesson.
When properly crafted, memes are one of the high forms of modern humour. When steeped in cruelty, they’re a reminder that they also need guard-rails. There’s often a fine line between hopping on a harmless trend and exploitation. And in an era when images and soundbites can become untethered from whatever inspired them, creators and companies should prioritize meme literacy, and social media outlets should help provide more context.
Also Read: Zuckerberg’s Meta shift will leave the user base of his platforms split
Robinson’s purported saga varies slightly depending on which creator is recapping it. As with everything on social media, you have to take what you hear with heaps of salt. But the bare bones of it seem to be that upon her arrival, Memon realized he had been cat-fished.
He told her that his family opposed a marriage and encouraged her to leave. Instead of heading back to the US when her visa expired, Robinson stayed and started making daily demands of the government, drawing media attention and becoming a local celebrity.
In the midst of it, a man claiming to be Robinson’s son told a local news outlet that she has a history of mental illness. A local news report said she was admitted to a Pakistani hospital, where she was seen by psychiatrists. That didn’t stop creators from openly mocking her appearance and sharing her soundbites out of context.
Also Read: Mint Quick Edit | Meta’s morphosis: Good news or bad?
While I’m all for a fun viral moment, the ubiquity of her story on social media illustrates meme culture’s pitfalls. So, at the risk of sounding like the ‘No Fun Police,’ I ask: Will social media users take a step back and realize that some memes—especially those rooted in tragedy—aren’t funny at all?
During what seemed like an impromptu press conference alongside Pakistani social worker Ramzan Chhipa, Robinson told newscasters that she wants to overhaul Pakistan’s infrastructure: “I’m asking for $100,000 or more. I need $20,000 by this week, in my pockets, in cash.” In another interview, she said, “I’m not talking unless y’all giving me land and $2,000 or more every week. You hear me?”
Thousands of people are now using Robinson’s voice on videos about everything from grandkids to brand deals. The incentive for some is clear. The chief metric of digital success is how many eyeballs land on a post. But by exploiting a viral moment, creators—and even businesses—may forget to consider whether a trend is aligned with their brand. A simple way to avoid that trap is to be cautious and do some research.
Also Read: To curb false and misleading claims, hold social-media influencers accountable
Ideally, that should happen during the early stages of a meme’s rise, when there’s time to read up on the origin story of a trend before jumping on the bandwagon.
Several influencers recently had to issue an apology after joining a racist trend that repurposed footage of an Indigenous Australian man to “prank call” their friends and family members.
Social platforms that house such content must play a role too, particularly when they make it easier for users to edit and share images and sounds. CapCut offers multiple templates of Robinson’s face and voice. TikTok has in the past banned overtly harmful trends like ‘legging legs,’ but Robinson’s story is murkier territory.
Mental health concerns are present, but because there are no allusions to self-harm or body image issues, alarm bells don’t ring. At the same time, there’s been some genuine cultural exchange happening between Pakistanis and Americans because of the story.
Social platforms that house such content must play a role too, particularly when they make it easier for users to edit and share images and sounds.
Still, memes have often gone too far. What stops TikTok and CapCut from using a short explainer on videos telling people where a sensitive viral sound or filter has come from? Context could remind creators of the meme’s origin and might lead them to second-guess using it carelessly.
You may not know of the ‘absolute unit’ meme poking fun at an overweight British man. Or that the ‘my Shayla’ soundbite was about Tyrese Gibson’s 2017 custody battle for his then-10-year-old daughter. Or that the photo of George Bush getting something whispered in his ear is actually about 9/11.
Years from now, people may not even know or remember that Selena Gomez was crying in an Instagram video about US President Donald Trump’s border crackdown. Mere days after the since-deleted video was posted, it was already being used as a soundbite about a clogged toilet.
The new year is just getting started, and there will be many more trending moments to come, so a little mindfulness could go a long way in ensuring that virality doesn’t come with greater and more damaging costs. ©Bloomberg
Post Comment