Surrealist content is mutating across digital platforms, tapping into a shared sense of social isolation and esoteric humor. Niche culture is now, ironically, mass-market – showing just how much Gen Zers want to escape their algorithms. So how can brands help them consume something unexpected?
Scope
In December 2024, Oxford University Press declared “brain rot” as its Word of the Year. Defined as the "supposed deterioration of a person's mental or intellectual state," brain rot is linked to scrolling through low-quality online content. [1] It’s been portrayed as overwhelmingly negative, a detrimental disorder that’s symptomatic of social media users’ insatiable desire for stimulation. But it’s also something they enjoy. This form of addictive, ultra-processed media is everywhere: esoteric memes, mukbang videos, gibberish lingo, AI-generated mashups, and the return of “shitposting” accounts. People both avoid and gravitate towards it. “Most likely, you’re in a toxic bind with this crap – a tragic, codependent relationship which makes you laugh from time to time but ravages your mind and soul,” writes Clive Martin in the December 2024 issue of Dazed. [2]
Ultimately, brain rot media is defined by its absurdity. “The content you see will depend upon your tastes, yet it all looks remarkably similar: fun, catty, surreal, postmodern, and consciously banal,” Martin continues. It’s not necessarily a new phenomenon. “As someone who was on gay Twitter around 2016, I feel like this absurdist humor has always been there,” says Tiarna Meehan. [3]
Writing for TechCrunch about ‘mulch’ cat memes, Morgan Sung echoes these thoughts: “It’s really just Very Online humor. It’s absurd, and it’s easy to replicate, and there’s space for the joke to evolve. Internet absurdism is cyclical in nature, and ‘mulch’ posts have been preceded by years of shitposting.” [4]
Now, thanks to TikTok and a hyperactive algorithm, absurdism is even more accessible – and it’s driven by a powerful sense of disillusionment. A Harvard study found that 3 in 5 US 18-25-year-olds feel that their lives lack meaning or purpose. [5]Frustrated by an increasingly surreal reality, people are gravitating toward strange depictions of modern existence. We’re living in a “perma-weird” world – “a perennial state of frustrated urgency; a cortisol-saturated state of being with nothing to do and nowhere to go,” writes Venkatesh Rao in the Contraptions newsletter. [6] Since nothing seems to make sense anymore, social media users are creating their own nonsense online. “Consumers are seeking an escape in whatever format they can have it in,” says Chloe Sacre. [7] Some of this absurd media is ostensibly trashy: the web series ‘Skibidi Toilet’, for example, has as many detractors as it has fans. Absurd content such as this can lead to vacuous behavior. “I’ve seen the negative side of nihilism on social media — a perspective that leans into the belief that nothing matters and people kind of sink into that void,” Sacre says. [7]
Yet other forms are more rewarding, playing with more elevated references. Franz Kafka, for example, is enjoying a digital renaissance among Gen Z-ers, capturing the generation’s collective anxiety. In the world of high fashion, luxury brands are weaving absurdism through their content to show a more irreverent side. Marc Jacobs, for example, has collaborated with surrealist content creators Shadrinsky for an ongoing series of bizarre videos. The surrealist phenomenon has also reached the mass market; Nutter Butter went viral earlier this year for nurturing a chaotic social media presence, and FlixBus and Duolingo have similarly adopted absurdist approaches. While bizarre television adverts are nothing new, a surrealist social media persona is, and it can surprise and delight in new ways. “There’s an acknowledgment that if nothing truly matters, it can actually be liberating and even humorous. This shift reframes nihilism as something freeing, and allows people to approach life with less pressure,” says Sacre. [7] It's also a form of escaping a monolithic monoculture. “More than ever now, people are rewarding the niche,” Charli XCX (of the Brat phenomenon) said in an interview with The Guardian. [8] Love it or hate it, this supposedly neurotoxic content is filling our social media feeds. And understanding it, rather than dismissing it, or simply recycling it, is vital for brands looking to engage younger audiences.
People are socially and politically tired
A perfect storm of social forces has created a pervasive sense of despair. Political disillusionment is at an all-time high; in the UK, 44% of young people believe their vote can make no difference. [9] While Labour’s landslide victory promised change, after just over 100 days in office, Keir Starmer has already faced a 2.8 million-strong petition calling for him to be ousted and polls showing that half of Britons are already disappointed by the new government’s performance [10]. In the USA, meanwhile, a convicted felon has been re-elected (former President Trump) and another, the son of President Joe Biden, has been pardoned (Hunter Biden). Elsewhere, the COVID fatigue (both literal and figurative) has still not dissipated, and the financial and social burden it caused still weighs heavy. [11][12]According to data from TELUS Health, around 56% of employees are currently experiencing burnout, a state of exhaustion caused by overworking. [13]Outside of work, the picture is even more bleak – 63% of Gen Z-ers report feeling alone sometimes or always. [14]
All of this has created a shared hopelessness and an entrenched ennui, making young people feel like they are unable to change anything. “It feels that almost everyone has a sort of impending doom or is finding it increasingly hard to grapple with newfound adulthood,” Sacre says. “They are realizing that the government doesn't necessarily care about them, and that people can buy their way into politics. A lot of young people felt like their voice would matter and ultimately they showed up at the polls – and it didn't,” she continues, in reference to the November 2024 US election, which saw voters aged over 50 (the largest electoral cohort) plump for Trump. [7][15] “There’s an overarching theme of youthful nihilism, which isn’t surprising for a generation that came of age during a recession, a pandemic, and ongoing political turmoil. It’s a nothing-fucking-matters-anyway attitude,” Sacre continues. [7]
Absurdist media is a way to channel this existential anxiety, providing young people with an outlet to air their angst and find meaning in the meaningless. As Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein said, “the meaning of a word is its use in language.” So the nonsensical lexicon of absurdist media takes on meaning simply by being regurgitated. For the young social media users doing the regurgitating, this creates a sense of community. “I think one overarching trait of Gen Z humor is this feeling of being in on an inside joke,” Meehan says. [3] According to one study, the more absurd the meme, the more funny Gen Z-ers will find it. [16] But it’s not just a form of cathartic escape; absurdist media also documents the mood of the times, capturing the cultural alienation happening in the real world.
Algorithm fatigue
We’re not just enraged by powerful humans; we’re equally exasperated with powerful robots. The all-powerful algorithm of social media and entertainment has led to a feedback loop that aims to satisfy rather than surprise the user. The result is a predictable digital world, where we see the same types of imagery over and over again. The technology is also insidious, putting consumption above everything else. Experts argue that TikTok's algorithm, for example, can push users in the direction of harmful content when trying to foster their dependence. Algorithms affect other industries, too: Jochan Embley wrote for The Guardian about how Spotify Wrapped is a reminder that the algorithm has rendered music discovery meaningless. [17] This has led to a collective desire for the strange and unexpected – people want to be pulled out of the echo chamber and sent down a rabbit hole instead. Anesthetized by samey aesthetics, social media users are craving something more emotive and wanting to see something they’ve never seen before. “[Absurdist media’s] visceral imagery… is fuelled by a collective boredom with the state of current cultural aesthetics, driven by the sheer oversaturation of content we have access to,” says Meehan. [3] This isn’t just a social media feat – Gen Zers are ditching brands that they find boring in droves. [18]
AI further complicates matters, disrupting expectations through its ability to render anything imaginable. On one hand, it can be used to create deepfakes, on the other, it can manifest newness. But that’s not necessarily a positive for absurd media. “AI content is so weird and offputting and you can compare the collective fear of it to the “clear craze” of the 1990s, or when people thought computers were going to take all jobs,” Sacre says. “The strange content that is really resonating is human-made, and it’s funny because only humans could make it. Only someone who is chronically online or embedded in pop culture could begin to understand.” [7] Either way, our integration of AI into reality and Gen Z-ers’ relentless contribution to online content has added to the absurdity. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that self-diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID), characterized by a feeling of derealisation and detachment from actuality, is on the rise; we are living in an increasingly surreal and dreamlike world. [19]
Community building and curation culture
In the online world, almost everyone has access to almost everything – but the popularity of a few social media platforms has created a constantly reverberating echo chamber in which the majority of people consume the same content at the same time. This has led to monoculture. While streaming platforms such as Netflix and Spotify promise a source of individual consumption and the end of mainstream media has led to fractured interests and micro-cultures, moments like Barbenheimer and Brat Summer are proof of a powerful digital homogeneity. And with (digital) rental replacing ownership, people can collect endlessly, making curation more challenging.
It’s led to young people digging deep to uncover newness, turning to the surreal to find uniquity among the ubiquity. Weird, esoteric, and niche tastes are now in vogue. “Growing up with social media has made a lot of people feel small, like just another face in a huge crowd. That’s probably why being “weird” or unconventional has become such a big deal,” Sacre says. “People love things that are random or out there, not because they make sense, but because they’re different and grab attention.” [7]
Scores of creators and brands have capitalized on this desire for human recommendations and unexpected curation. Marg.MP3, for example, has become wildly popular on Instagram for her sonic suggestions, providing a more human alternative to the algorithm. In the world of cinema, platforms like MUBI, Letterboxd, and Criterion Collection have surfed a new wave of niche interest in arthouse movies and auteur directors. Elsewhere, BookTok has introduced the concept of “hot girl books” and alternative literature. This appetite for curation even extends to memes. Instagram has become filled with “shitposting” accounts like still_on_a_downward_spiral, on which human admins churn out inane content.
But the key to this cultural curation is staying genuine. “At the end of the day, the stories that resonate are the ones that feel authentic or show a unique perspective—stuff you can only get from someone being fully themselves or diving deep into their own quirks and tastes,” says Sacre. In return, these new content collectors are gaining a sense of cultural clout, or “social currency” as Sacre puts it. It’s a form of insider status and links to ‘IYKYK’ culture; in the same way that ‘no context’ meme groups find appeal through offering no consistent theme, absurdist social media rewards followers who have taken the time to understand a new in-joke, however weird it might be.
Insights and opportunities
Offer emotional outlets
The emotional release activated by absurdist media is a powerful one. “I think the biggest positive of all of this is that absurdist media really allows and almost forces people to be themselves. Since everyone is online now, there are more opportunities to connect with like-minded individuals. Even if you like something that is seen as ‘weird’ or ‘wacky’ in real life, chances are someone else out there will like it just as much as you,” Sacre says. [7] Brands can tap into this by constructing new mechanisms for young people to channel their frustrations and escape reality. In turn, nascent communities can be formed around the brand. Flixbus’ social media platforms, characterized by post-internet humor and chaotic posting, have become hubs for like-minded followers to share the joke. “This type of media helps young people connect on a deeper level, and brings communities closer together.” [7]
Lean into the strange and unexpected
As well as proving that the weird can be wonderful, absurdist media can be a springboard for brands to experiment with content, taking risks, like steering away from carefully curated visuals and towards offhand, offbeat posting. Nutter Butter went viral earlier this year for its “fever-dreamlike” social media splicing together psychedelic visuals and bizarre messaging. [20] “It also allows people to move away from these overtly polished and perfected social media pages, bringing in more things like humor and authenticity,” Sacre says. [7] For brands, the key is to champion in-house personalities. “Ultimately, I think it's about tapping into the humans working inside these brands and allowing them to be themselves, [enabling them to] create absurd content that they know that people like them will resonate with,” Sacre says. [7]
Invite authentic collaboration
Earlier this year, Ad Age noted that absurdity in advertising was on the rise, with brands like Reese's and Jansport tapping into the Gen Z market through irreverent marketing. [21] But absurdist advertising can also lead to adversity; unlike safer, tried-and-tested content, it can come across as try-hard, miss the mark, or get lost in translation. “It’s such a fine line – if they come across as too homogenous or like they’re trying to be cool, that can be off-putting,” Meehan says. [3] Currys and Nestlé were two early adopters of the Gen Z slang trend on Instagram and TikTok, and were rewarded with high engagement. Other brands, however, joined the party too late. Openly collaborating with absurd content creators may prove more worthwhile. “People value authenticity above all else right now, and humor is a great way to convey that genuine feeling. If brands can tap into this absurdity in the right way, I think that would resonate with young audiences. So it’s about staying in touch with what humor has already cycled and become overplayed, and what is new,” Meehan says. [3] As the Ad Age report notes, this might mean inviting younger in-house creatives to go wild. “I think that some of our younger creatives are infinitely funny. If there is a challenge, it's encouraging them to bring that personality to their work. It’s OK to be funny and not write the typical ad. I encourage them to bring in the totally wrong answer and see where the brand could go.” [3]
