The YouTube Revolution and the Meaning of Conservatism





31.5.2025





In his now-famous book Of Grammatology, Jacques Derrida identified what he called “phonocentrism”—the source of our cultural malaise, which he defined as the systematic privileging of spoken language over writing that has dominated Western thought since Plato.[1] The bias of “phonocentrism” treats speech as immediate, authentic, and truthful, while viewing writing as derivative, secondary, and potentially deceptive. In Plato's Phaedrus, Socrates explicitly warns his audience that writing leads to forgetfulness and the death of living knowledge, comparing written texts to paintings that “appear alive but cannot answer back.” Real knowledge, according to this tradition, resides in dialogue—the spoken discourse between living minds.


This preference for speech arises from what Derrida called the “metaphysics of presence”—the organization of Western philosophy around ideals of immediate presence: the self present to itself (Descartes' cogito), the voice present to the mind, meaning fully present in the sign. Speech appears to deliver this immediate, living presence—the speaker is there, the voice is heard, thought seems transparent and unmediated. Writing, by contrast, introduces absence: the speaker is not there, the author may be long dead, meaning can be interpreted across temporal and spatial distance in ways that may be very different from what the author originally intended.


Yet Derrida exposed a fundamental contradiction at the heart of this tradition: Western philosophy uses writing to argue about the superiority of speech. This preference for a phonocentric discourse is a clear symptom revealing philosophy's suppressed dependence on writing. Philosophy exists only in and through writing—through texts that can be preserved, cited, criticized, and built upon. The writtenness of philosophy betrays its metaphysical commitments, revealing that all meaning depends on absence, difference, and deferral—what Derrida called différance.[2]


Derrida's concept of “arche-writing” suggests that even speech functions through the same mechanisms as writing: signs gain meaning only through their difference from other signs, not through direct access to meaning. Writing doesn't corrupt some pure presence of speech—it reveals the trace-structure that makes signification possible at all. The preference for speech is thus an attempt to deny the fundamental absence and mediation that constitutes language itself.


YouTube: The Hyperreal Triumph of Phonocentrism

Contemporary digital culture, exemplified by YouTube, represents phonocentrism's most extreme and paradoxical manifestation. YouTube appears to fulfill the ancient dream of immediate, present speech—faces speaking directly to us, creating illusions of spontaneity, intimacy, and unmediated communication. Yet this digital speech lacks entirely the philosophical justification that once grounded the preference for oral dialogue. We have achieved speech without logos—presence without memory, attention without thought, voices that are all mutually replaceable.


YouTube amplifies the illusion of presence to grotesque proportions. Content creators speak directly into cameras, addressing viewers with apparent intimacy and immediacy. The platform's visual and auditory richness creates what we might call “hyperreal speech”—more immediate than immediate, more present than presence. Unlike the philosophical dialogues that justified speech's traditional privilege, YouTube offers no dialectical rigor, no systematic argumentation, no patient development of ideas. Instead, it flattens thought into emotion, personality, and visual cues.


The platform's structure actively undermines the kind of sustained reflection that meaningful discourse requires. Content is organized not by topic, argument, or intellectual coherence, but by algorithmic predictions of what will maintain attention. The recommendation system creates feedback loops that prioritize engagement over enlightenment, emotional reaction over rational response, viral spread over verified truth. This transforms speech from a vehicle of logos into mere performance.


Perhaps most crucially, YouTube destroys what is essential to meaning-making: the archive. Traditional writing creates stable repositories of thought that can be revisited, cross-referenced, critiqued, and built upon. Books can be indexed and digitized, chapters can be cited, arguments can be traced across texts and authors. This archival structure makes possible the accumulation of knowledge, the correction of errors, and the development of increasingly sophisticated understanding.


YouTube offers the simulacrum of an archive without its essential function. While the platform contains vast amounts of content, this content is not meaningfully indexed or searchable. The search function operates through shallow algorithmic matching rather than semantic organization. Past content disappears into unsearchable noise, buried under the constant stream of new uploads. Forget about ideas or arguments —what gets preserved are engagement metrics—views, likes, comments, watch time.


This represents a profound shift from archive to stream. Instead of Derrida's “writing as trace”—stable marks that preserve meaning across time—we get “speech as vapor.” Content is consumed in the moment of viewing but cannot be reliably retrieved, referenced, or built upon. The platform's architecture ensures that yesterday's insights are forgotten in today's flood of new content.


The searchability that does exist is never neutral. YouTube's algorithms are tuned to maximize engagement, not insight. They bias toward recency over significance, popularity over quality, retention metrics over intellectual value. Finding meaningful content requires active resistance against the platform's default operations—users must already know what they seek, navigate deliberately around distractions, and manually construct their archives of worthwhile material.


The Blogger as Post-Democratic Subject and the Rise of Amentocracy

The proliferation of YouTube content creators—”YouTubers,” “influencers,” “bloggers”—signals the emergence of a new form of subjectivity adapted to digital phonocentrism. These figures are not journalists, educators, or artists in traditional senses, but performers of selfhood. Their primary function is to exist visibly, generate constant presence, and remain available for consumption.


This represents what we might call “micro-sovereignty”—a high-tech form of self-governance where individuals become nodes of informational production, personal brands, and managers of their visibility. Each YouTuber functions as their own boss, content, and meaning. Yet this is sovereignty without genuine power—a sovereignty of exposure rather than authority, of performance rather than expertise.


The YouTuber embodies the paradox of digital phonocentrism: they speak constantly but say little; they appear present and accessible but exist primarily as images on screens; they simulate intimacy while maintaining fundamental distance from their audiences. The comment sections that surround their content create the illusion of dialogue while functioning primarily as client’s utterance boards—spaces of affective mimicry rather than genuine exchange.


This proliferation of speaking subjects doesn't represent democratization but its opposite. When everyone can speak, but within systems that flatten all speech to the same level of significance, the result is semiotic redundancy. The space of opinion becomes saturated with equivalent utterances, meaning collapses into noise, and the more voices there are, the less anyone is actually heard.


YouTube's structure embodies what we might call amentocracy—rule by those without cultivation, who ascend through spectacle rather than competence. The platform rewards attention over substance, emotional immediacy over sustained argument, and endless content production over coherent thought. Success depends not on expertise or wisdom but on the ability to game algorithmic systems and maintain viewer engagement.


This represents a fundamental transformation in how authority and influence operate in public discourse. Traditional forms of intellectual authority based on education, experience, peer review, institutional affiliation carry no special weight on YouTube. Indeed, they may be disadvantages, as academic or professional speech patterns often perform poorly with the attention economy.


Instead of the democratization of knowledge, its accessibility and comprehensibility, we witness its debasement. Expertise, conspiracy theory, entertainment, and advertising flow through identical aesthetic channels, making them increasingly indistinguishable. The platform creates what we might call a “post-hierarchical information environment” where the symbolic order no longer regulates what deserves attention. Scientific findings, personal opinions, commercial promotions, and deliberate misinformation are presented with equal visual authority.


This flattening of discourse has profound political implications. YouTube has become a primary source of news and political information for many, particularly younger audiences, yet its structure actively undermines the kinds of sustained analysis, fact-checking, and institutional accountability that democratic governance requires. Complex policy questions are reduced to personality-driven content. Often long-term social problems are addressed through viral moments while political engagement becomes indistinguishable from entertainment consumption.


Parasociality & The Collapse of Reading Culture

For many people YouTube functions as what we might call a “prosthesis against loneliness”—a technological solution to social isolation that ultimately deepens the problem it claims to solve. The platform offers parasocial relationships—one-way emotional connections where viewers feel intimate with creators who cannot reciprocate. These relationships simulate the presence of friends, mentors, or community members while providing none of the mutual responsibility, challenge, or growth that genuine relationships require. This represents the replacement of community with connectivity and solidarity with viewership. The YouTuber becomes a “parasocial companion” who speaks to audiences without speaking with them, offering a fantasy of intimacy without reciprocity. Comment sections create the ritualized appearance of dialogue while functioning primarily as spaces for viewers to perform their alignment with the creator's brand.


The result is what we might call “networked isolation”—subjects connected through digital threads but fundamentally alone. We are evolving into a society of “islands of subjectivity” (reversing John Donne’s popular quotation that “no man is an island”), each consuming personalized streams of content that confirm existing preferences rather than challenging them to grow. The apparent diversity of available content masks an underlying sameness, as algorithmic systems tend to create filter bubbles that reinforce rather than expand viewers' choices.


YouTube's dominance represents more than a shift in media preferences—it constitutes an epistemological rupture that threatens reading culture itself. Reading requires what we might call “slow time”—the patience to follow complex arguments, the discipline to retain and return to difficult passages, the willingness to engage with ideas that challenge our preconceptions. It demands dialogue with absence—the ability to engage seriously with authors who are not present to clarify or defend their positions. YouTube short-circuits all of these cognitive practices. It offers pseudo-presence that kills the desire for engagement with absent authors, replacing reflective interiority with constant external stimulation. The platform's design actively discourages the kind of sustained attention that serious thought requires, using notifications, autoplay, and recommendation algorithms to fragment and redirect focus.


The decline of reading culture has cascading effects throughout society. Democratic citizenship requires the ability to engage with complex policy arguments, historical analysis, and competing interpretations of events. Scientific literacy depends on the capacity to follow extended reasoning, understand methodological constraints, and distinguish between evidence and opinion. Cultural sophistication involves the informed appreciation of artistic works that reward sustained attention. All of these capacities depend on cognitive muscles developed through reading—muscles that YouTube actively atrophies. The platform trains viewers to expect immediate gratification, constant novelty, and emotional stimulation, making them less capable of the patient work that serious thought requires.


In Derridean terms, YouTube functions as a pharmakon—simultaneously poison and remedy, cure and disease. The platform can serve as a tool of enlightenment when used deliberately and critically. It provides access to lectures, documentaries, tutorials, and discussions that might otherwise be unavailable. It can combat intellectual isolation, particularly for those in geographically or socially isolated circumstances. Yet YouTube is poisonous when used passively, as its design encourages. The platform's default mode of operation floods consciousness with meaningless chatter, fragments attention, and replaces sustained thought with rapid consumption. It creates trace-based archives without structure, where the logic of différance is buried under autoplay algorithms that prioritize retention over reflection.


The platform's ambivalence makes it more dangerous than straightforwardly harmful media like Fox News. Its genuine benefits mask its systematic undermining of the cognitive and social practices that meaningful discourse requires. Users can find valuable content, but doing so requires trained will, archival sensibility, and prior education—resources that the platform itself does nothing to develop and much to erode. YouTube floods you with information, but instead of awareness or knowledge, that result is mental dullness disguised as engagement.


The Democratic Stakes

The dominance of digital phonocentrism is not inevitable, nor is it irreversible. However, resisting it requires conscious effort and systematic practice. Meaningful engagement with YouTube—or any speech-based platform—demands what we might call “archival literacy”: the ability to create coherent sequences of content, build personal libraries of valuable material, and resist the platform's tendency toward fragmentation and drift. This involves practical strategies: creating playlists organized around intellectual themes rather than momentary interests; subscribing to channels that prioritize depth over virality; using the platform as a repository for specific inquiries rather than general entertainment; taking notes and creating external records of insights encountered online.


More fundamentally, it requires defending and cultivating a reading culture. This means actively seeking out books, articles, and other written materials that reward sustained attention; practicing the patience necessary for complex arguments; developing the capacity to engage with ideas across temporal and cultural distance; building personal libraries that can be returned to and built upon over time.


Given the context, educational institutions have a particular responsibility. Rather than simply incorporating digital platforms into curricula, schools and universities need to teach critical digital literacy—the ability to recognize and resist the cognitive habits that platforms like YouTube encourage. This includes media criticism, attention training, and the deliberate cultivation of reading practices that digital culture tends to erode.


The preponderance of speech over writing in contemporary public discourse represents more than a cultural shift—it threatens the cognitive and social foundations of democratic governance. The election of Donald Trump, a reality TV star and a convicted felon, is an excellent illustration of this situation. Democracy depends on citizens' capability to engage with complex policy arguments, evaluate competing claims about factual matters, and participate in sustained deliberation about collective choices. All of these capacities depend on what we might call “archival thinking”—the ability to build arguments across time, reference shared bodies of evidence, and create cumulative understanding through collective inquiry. This kind of thinking requires the epistemic horizon that only writing provides. When speech overwhelms writing in the public sphere, we lose not just information but the very possibility of democratic deliberation.


The stakes extend beyond politics to encompass the transmission of culture, the advancement of knowledge, and the cultivation of human dignity. YouTube's transformation of speech into spectacle represents what we might call “the last stage of the spectacle”—a condition where even the simulation of meaningful communication dissolves into pure performance. Yet the situation is not as hopeless as it may appear. The act of seeking coherent thought in a fragmented information environment becomes a form of resistance—a spiritual exercise in an age that no longer demands or rewards such efforts. Individual choices about how to engage with digital platforms, what kinds of content to seek and create, and how to balance online and offline intellectual practices remain meaningful.


The question is, how can we do the work required to recover and preserve meaning in the post-truth age of YouTube and MAGA politics? This work is fundamentally conservative in the deepest sense—conserving the practices of sustained attention, careful argument, and patient dialogue that make human flourishing possible. In the face of digital phonocentrism's seemingly total triumph, such conservatism becomes the most radical act imaginable. Today, this is the meaning of true conservatism.




NOTES

(1) This critique forms part of his broader deconstruction of the “metaphysics of presence” that underlies Western philosophy.


(2) Perhaps the most evocative illustration of this idea appears in Joseph Brodsky’s Roman Elegies:

Flicker, small tongue of flame, o’er the page so hollow,

Quiver, bend with the breath exhaled in sighs unseen,

Follow — without approaching! — the line you follow

Of letters queued in search of what they mean.