“Disgustingly well-educated.” “The media I consumed this week.” “Esoteric.” “Niche.” “Romanticize.”
A few months ago, my algorithm on my social media began to filter through book recommendations, essay slideshows, and comprehensive interpretations of various political and psychological theories. Instead of my typical brain-rot feed and mindless DIMLs of influencers whose “busy days” consist of a manicure and coffee walk, I was beginning to see content centralized around academia. As someone whose ideal day is perusing an art gallery, listening to a crime podcast, and visiting a bookstore for hours on end to find a new modern-classic to enjoy for the week, this thrilled me.
The videos I was seeing excited and inspired me; I was seeing journaling prompts, or people reading poetry they had written about the connection between pomegranates and the divine feminine. I was motivated to get off my phone and pick up a book, and for once, study-with-mes were trending. I did deep-dives on different types of fountain pens, began researching random concepts like animism and ciphers, and listened to people’s playlists on Spotify titled, “music Bunny from The Secret History would listen to.”
I discovered Substack, a modern-day blog platform that enables largely amateur writers and journalists to publish articles and newsletters on whatever topics that fascinated them. My morning green-tea (another habit I picked up) was accompanied by reading essays titled “the archaeology of intimacy” or “the october theory” (emphasis on the lowercase).
Quickly though, as these ideas and topics permeated more mainstream media, the trickle-down of curated, well-written commentary quickly deteriorated into a torrential downpouring of diluted writing and words.
By now, I was almost exhausted by this new era people are donning of “intellectualism.” What does, “media I consumed this week” even mean? I wouldn’t conflate watching a singular video diary of a girl wearing skinny glasses and a slick-back on YouTube while she talks about her “weekly reset routine” and the intentional absorption of media. I’ve read half of the books BookTok has recommended, and let’s just say I’ve read Dramione fanfiction on Ao3 better articulated than some of these romance novels.
This fatigue with the near overuse of “intellectual” buzzwords and practices has almost degenerated the appreciation and purpose of the trend. Buzzwords, for reference, are words and phrases, or jargon, that are used in specific contexts in a fashionable and trendy way. For purposes of this article, take pretty much anything on TikTok that ends with “-ization.” I fear many have taken the goal of honing natural curiosity and creativity into more purposeful outlets, and turned it into an aesthetic of beauty and shallowness that almost borders on performativity.
This new genre of pseudo-intellectual woke buzzword-centric media has drained me, and almost leaves me feeling more dejected than before.
Almost.
I sat on my high-horse, and stuck my nose in the air with my superiority complex of “I-read-the-Odyssey-before-it-was-trendy” and “I’ve-been-journaling-since-fourth-grade” attitude for all of about two seconds, before I realized the larger picture: who am I to criticize others for fostering their curiosity and learning for the purpose of enjoyment, even if it is just for appearances?
I’ve spent years begging my friends to have journaling dates, or being shocked my classmates didn’t know the newest movie was a book adaptation. Finally, I’m seeing the rise in literacy and learning just for learning’s sake I’ve been hoping for.
It reminds me of the controversy last December with influencers filling Angel Tree wish lists organized by the Salvation Army. One side of the Internet was happy the philanthropy was getting attention and donations were being made, and the other side was complaining the influencer Angel Trees were publicity stunts and more performative than charitable. Another side responded to this complaint, agreeing that the trend may just be a trend, but reminding users that even if it was just for good publicity, at least the wish lists were still being bought, and underprivileged children and seniors were receiving the love and warmth characteristic of the holiday season.
I have to apply that same logic to this (albeit niche) discussion. Sure, maybe much of this new investment in reading and writing and crafting and philosophising is purely performative in nature, but at least it’s encouraging people to do these things in the first place.
In an era of rising conservatism, falling literacy, an increasing reliance on AI, and a concerning lack of critical thinking, I’m happy that people are making being an “intellectual” a cool and trendy thing again.
With that, I implore you to pick up a book! Read the Substack article, go sit in that coffee-shop writing cheap poetry heavily inspired by your dark-academia Pinterest board, and host pretentious salon-esque conversations with your friends on your walk to class.
While the media may paint it as such, being smart, and caring about bettering your intellectualism and in turn your worldview isn’t a trend. It’s a conscious effort of sustaining a sense of wonder and interest in subjects that may not directly affect you, but have broader implications that cultivate the world around you.