Is Chasing Social Media Likes Killing Our Creativity?

Is Chasing Social Media Likes Killing Our Creativity? #

Step into the shimmering, soul-sucking void of Malaysian social media, and witness the grand illusion: a landscape teeming with “content,” yet strangely barren of genuine creativity. We’ve become a nation of manicured curators, not bold creators; obsessive accountants tallying likes, not artists chasing visions. The relentless, anxiety-inducing pursuit of that tiny red heart or thumbs-up isn’t just draining our joy; it’s systematically strangling the vibrant, messy, uniquely Malaysian spark of originality right out of us. Welcome to the Conformity Factory, where algorithms are the foreman and virality is the only quality control.

Observe the homogenised wasteland. The same sunset silhouette at the same over-photographed Penang mural. The identical plate of nasi lemak, artfully scattered with biji selasih and an obligatory half-peeled banana, shot from the same overhead angle. The endless parade of influencers striking the same three “candid” poses in identical flowy dresses against interchangeable cafe backdrops. Where is the cili padi kick of unexpected perspective? Where’s the rojak mix of bold ideas? Vanished, replaced by a desperate, derivative mimicry of whatever the algorithm deemed “popular” last Tuesday. We’re not expressing ourselves; we’re performing a sanitised, algorithm-approved pantomime of what we think will sell. Authenticity is sacrificed on the altar of engagement metrics. The question isn’t “Is this interesting?” but “Will this trend?”

This like-chasing mania breeds a suffocating culture of creative cowardice. Why experiment with a unique art style, a challenging opinion piece, or an unconventional recipe when you know the safe, familiar meme template or foodporn shot guarantees a dopamine hit of validation? Why risk the crickets (or worse, the trolls) that greet something truly different? The fear of being ignored, of being labelled “kurang asam” or “trying too hard,” becomes paralyzing. We self-censor before the idea even fully forms, muttering “Orang tak minat lah” or “Nanti kena hantam online.” The result? A million variations on the same bland theme, a creative echo chamber amplifying safety, not surprise. We chase the viral template, not the original thought. The relentless pressure to produce content, constantly, for the insatiable feed beast, leaves no room for the essential creative ingredients: downtime, deep thought, and daring. True creativity needs lepak time for ideas to marinate, not the frantic scramble for the next post. It requires the courage to fail publicly, to make something genuinely kurang perfect, kurang popular, but more you. Instead, we churn out pre-fab, focus-grouped-by-algorithm content designed for maximum shareability and minimum offence or originality. It’s the creative equivalent of surviving on instant noodles – quick, easy, momentarily satisfying, but utterly devoid of real nourishment or unique flavour.

The cost is a cultural impoverishment. Where are the next generation’s P. Ramlees, Latiffs, or Sheila Majids, if their first instinct is to check TikTok trends before picking up a pen or a mic? Our vibrant traditions – wayang kulit, dikir barat, intricate crafts – risk becoming mere backdrops for influencer photoshoots, stripped of their depth and reduced to aesthetic props, rather than being reinterpreted with fresh, modern energy. The unique Malaysian voice – witty, layered, spicy, contradictory – is being flattened into a monotonous drone of crowd-pleasing clichés. We’re trading our potential for a rich, diverse cultural tapestry for the cheap thrill of temporary online approval. We mistake popularity for worth, and virality for value.

Breaking free requires conscious rebellion. Put down the phone. Step away from the metrics. Create something first for the sheer, unadulterated joy of making it, for the challenge, for the expression – then, maybe, share it. Embrace the awkward, the imperfect, the “why not?” experiment. Seek inspiration from the chaotic pasar malam, the rhythmic clang of a teh tarik pull, the unfiltered stories of the pak cik at the kedai runcit, not just the curated feeds of strangers. Reclaim your creative spirit from the algorithmic overlords. Stop creating for the like button. Create despite it. Your most authentic, uniquely Malaysian idea might not break the internet, but it might just break the monotonous mould – and that’s a victory worth infinitely more than a thousand hollow hearts. Our creativity deserves better than to be a slave to the scroll. Set it free.