The Tapping Generation
The Black Cat sat on the edge of the sofa, watching Señora AmaDeCasa scroll through her phone. Every few seconds another video appeared. Different face. Different handbag. Different nails. The performance, however, never changed.
One young woman carefully arranged the contents of her designer bag on a spotless white table as though she were unveiling the Dead Sea Scrolls. Another spent nearly a minute introducing a lipstick with the solemnity of a Nobel Prize acceptance speech. A third slowly unpacked a planner, a pen, a key ring and a compact mirror, each object receiving the same exaggerated theatrical treatment, as though humanity had been anxiously waiting for this historic moment.
The Cat remained silent for a while.
Finally it asked,
“Have I missed something important?”
“No,” said Señora. “You’ve already seen everything.”
“But this is the seventh video.”
“They’re all the same.”
The Cat watched another immaculate hand glide across the screen. Every movement had been rehearsed. Every gesture copied from someone who had copied it from someone else. Even individuality had become a template.
“I see.”
“What?”
“They’re not showing objects.”
“What are they showing?”
“They’re auditioning for the algorithm.”
Señora laughed quietly.
“I thought I was becoming old.”
“No,” said the Cat. “You’re becoming difficult to hypnotise.”
Outside, behind the smoked glass of the Ministry of Attention, the Archons observed the statistics with satisfaction.
“Average viewing time?”
“Excellent.”
“Educational value?”
“None.”
“Creative value?”
“None.”
“Cultural value?”
The youngest Archon hesitated.
“I’m not sure there is any.”
The oldest smiled.
“Perfect. Culture encourages comparison. Knowledge creates standards. Standards lead to judgment. Judgment leads to independent taste.”
“And independent taste is…”
“A system failure.”
Meanwhile another creator appeared on the screen. She possessed no particular expertise, no remarkable skill and no original idea. Yet millions watched in complete silence as she lovingly presented a collection of objects manufactured by someone else.
The Cat looked genuinely puzzled.
“There was a time,” it said quietly, “when admiration had to be earned.”
“And now?”
“Now it only has to be filmed vertically.”
The room fell silent.
After a while Señora put the phone face down.
“It annoys me more than it should.”
“No,” replied the Cat. “It annoys you exactly as much as it should.”
“Why?”
“Because civilisations do not collapse when people become poor.”
“They collapse when they stop recognising the difference between achievement and performance.”
Far away, the Archons approved another recommendation cycle.
One more generation had learned to confuse attention with value.
And when that happens often enough, the market no longer follows culture.
Culture begins following the market.
