Another article about the future of digital comedy?! How many times do comedians need to boast that they can ‘bypass industry gatekeepers’?

Relax. I’m also sick of hearing the same opinions about content. Complaints like ‘everyone just does crowd work’ and ‘you have to be controversial to get views’ make me cringe. These trends are just that: trends. When I started doing TikTok in 2020, sketch comedy was the most popular form of comedy on TikTok. But in 2023, while sketch was growing by 88 per cent year on year, stand-up was growing 139 per cent. People’s tastes change rapidly online. So what will be the enduring effect of short-form content on the comedy world?

The more permanent change lies in our expectations of comedians. Social media demands a more personal relationship between creator and audience. In the past, TV channels only showed us comedians’ jokes and panel show quips, but social media allows us into their lives. 

People are buying tickets to comedians whose material they’ve never seen, based on their podcasts or rants. Fans are buying tickets to comedians not because they are fans of their stand-up, but because they connect with them as people.

In an increasingly disconnected world, your favourite comedian is not just your entertainment provider. They are your friend, a mouthpiece for your opinions, a representative of a group with whom you identify — your ethnicity, gender, sexuality or regionality. 

The comedians who connect with their fans are the most successful. Vittorio Angelone (215k+ followers on Instagram) has an enviable content output and regularly thanks his fans for their support, in the mould of fellow viral senstation Adam Rowe. Their edgy, rebellious podcasting makes us feel like we’re being let in on a naughty conversation we weren’t supposed to hear. 

This contrasts with the quirky, play-it-safe TV comedy mainstream, which has to seek the broadest possible audience because it’s trying to attract advertisers, and is often sickeningly middle-class because of industry bias. (That’s coming from me!)

The newest social media platforms show this increased demand for intimacy between creator and consumer. Patreon allows punters to pay for access to exclusive online communities, receiving behind-the-scenes footage and bonus content, allowing them to feel more ‘special’ than the average fan. BeReal invites users to share a photo of their life at a randomly selected time every day, letting us see a realer version of our favourite creator. In the crowded content market, we are expected to have a deeper relationship with fans in order to maintain their support.

The most successful comedy creators are those who are the most engaged with their audience. UK YouTubers The Sidemen have flooded YouTube with well-produced long-form videos, over 45 channels. They have podcasts, panel shows, vlogs and huge financial backing. We often say that content has levelled the playing field in terms of class, but it seems that the channels with the biggest investment of time and money are the most successful. 

Production companies are already involved in subsidising these channels, and uniting channels to create content conglomerates. We are still living through the old west frontier of content, where anyone can stake their claim. Perhaps one day there will be a comedy Jeff Bezos, and all other entertainers will be priced out of the market. We won’t get our comedy from TV or social media. We’ll get it from ‘Jeff’.

Combine this increased demand for engagement with echo-chambers and algorithms, and comedy becomes cultish. We are used to being bombarded by our favourite content from our favourite people. A performer who doesn’t represent the audience is slowly becoming an offensive concept. ‘An entertainer that doesn’t represent me? But all of my entertainment represents me!’ 

The more we engage with a creator, the more we become like them, using their vocab, wearing their clothes, parroting their views. The biggest online creators have demonyms for their fans, like PewDiePie’s ‘Bro Army’ or Logan Paul’s ‘Log‘. These fans have galvanised like real armies, such as when Logan Paul’s fans levelled racist abuse at Reina Scully after she criticised Logan for filming a corpse in a Japanese forest where many people had taken their own lives.

The problem, of course, is that this connection between creator and consumer is artificial. The curated, online version of a person never truly represents them. Hence cancel culture, where people find out that their perfect image of someone was inaccurate. The relationship they imagined they had was built on lies. They may feel as betrayed as if they had lost a loved one. 

So how should comedians continue? Seek investment and pump out content on an industrial scale? Share the darkest side themselves with their fans, in an attempt to simulate human connection? 

I imagine the future landscape of content will be a mixture of accounts doing both: content conglomerates with millions in funding, alongside channels with niche appeal that provide something deeper. 

We see this trend already in online pornography, with OnlyFans allowing adult models to reclaim financial power from tube sites, by connecting with masturbators on a more personal level. I’ll leave you to ponder that parallel between stand-up and public masturbation…  

• Finlay Christie’s new stand-up show I Deserve This is at Monkey Barrel 4 at 10.40pm until August 25