The book comes at you with a very catchy book cover and an even catchier name. Even if you live under a rock or are too busy or too old for internet slang or all of these and don’t know what brain rot means, the term perhaps invokes an image of an individual glued to a screen consuming what many might call pointless but somehow very addictive content. This image perfectly aligns with the definition of this Oxford Word of the Year 2024. This content, although arguably trivial and mostly forgotten sooner or later, is a product of as well as an impetus for processes and events occurring on both sides of the screen. Post-Jio India as the author calls it, is the second largest digital market after China and has in turn contributed a lot to the ever-growing global pile of brain rot. This engaging read sets out to explore India’s very own brain rot production and consumption, a sight not unlike the streets of the country: loud, vibrant, chaotic and, if you care enough to notice, capable of invoking a wide assortment of emotions all at once; a microcosm of the nation itself.
The book gives an insider perspective on the workings of the algorithm, the behemoth that commands the virtual sphere. This insider perspective is not just limited to the author being a creator for an internet audience but also the point of view of the consumers of the said content. In the context of India, the author sheds light on how the oppressive class and caste dynamic of the country gets reflected in online spaces and sometimes takes on new forms. The insights on caste in online dating and other online spaces like Instagram and music videos are particularly interesting. The internet does, in its own quirky way empower marginalized communities and this empowerment goes beyond arguments and bullet points summarized for a carousel that sometimes unintentionally mimics the exclusionary natures of academia.
The pinnacle of anarchy and algorithm madness in India was perhaps the ruckus in the aftermath of Sushant Singh Rajput’s death. An entire chapter dedicated to that internet moment still shocks one with the details of the conspiracy theories and outright false allegations circulated online even if one were to have lived through those strange times and seen the events unfold in real time. The book does have the tone of an exposé especially when the topic is online positivity gurus and the thriving business of podcasts. Having said that, the book is definitely not a mere exposé as in the author’s own words it uses, ‘philosophical, sociological and psychological point of view.’ The book delves into the workings of the attention economy and the highs and lows of being employed in it. The evolution of online content with the changing political atmosphere of the nation, the nature of art and performance in content creation and the mainstreaming of ‘cringe’ are some of the many themes discussed. Narration of meetings with Puneet Superstar and Sherpal Bairagi have a surreal feeling like the one you get when seeing your favourite actor out of character for the first time. And if you enjoy absurdist and existentialist literature, you might enjoy the recurrent parallels to it sprinkled throughout the book, reminiscent of the author’s signature style.
Though we must contend that undeniable role of the algorithm and the attention economy in driving a lot of online content in a certain direction, the fact remains that polarization and a certain politics of apoliticalness had existed prior to the internet. The incentive of quick money and online fame being enough to get an individual to parrot ideological narratives or subtly promote them seems unconvincing but not totally wrong, especially considering the author works in the same industry.
This leads to some very important questions: have content creators surrendered all agency to the tides of the algorithm? Are the audiences getting what they really want and does the content being put forth not reflect an attempt at creating an audience sometimes from scratch? Did we all know we had an appetite for shopping haul videos and AI cat content before it was shoved into our faces, and a few seconds spent watching them opened the floodgates of the algorithm? How much do our choices shape what the algorithm shows us and how much does the algorithm influence what we want to see? And has the era of originality on the internet being rewarded truly been left behind? The book is very helpful in thinking through these questions.
This reading experience is akin to a guided walk through the alleys of the virtual world behind our screens. Depending on your tendencies to doomscroll and your screen time, some spots will be familiar, some a surprise, and if the content and spaces under discussion don’t intrigue you much, the commentary and observations are alone worth staying for. Despite the complete absence of an advisory tone but much like a good description, the book slowly nudges you to rethink the time spent on the internet. The author does not judge at all and in fact admits to the strange follies of human nature. That is precisely what makes the introspection easier. The book is very comprehensive in its scope covering a lot from online dating to YouTube classes for UPSC. And yet a lot is left untouched, but that is the beauty of the internet, there is always more to explore and more perspectives to bring in.
Shimaila Mushtaq did her Masters in Political Science from Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. She is currently Social-Media Consultant with The Book Review.