Continuing from last time, we will examine the contemporary media environment with the keyword "share," featuring Associate Professor Yutaka Iida from Ritsumeikan University's Faculty of Industrial Society and Akira Amano from Dentsu Inc. Media Innovation Lab.
While the first half focused on "Sharing and Events," the latter half narrows the discussion to online video culture.
Live Streaming and the Continuity of "Television" Culture
Iida: In your book, Mr. Amano, you point out that the three types, "mass type," "influencer type," and "simulacrum type," do not transition in a linear fashion.
It goes without saying that when professionals enter UGC (user-generated content) platforms, idyllic amateur communication becomes marginalized, but at the same time, the nature of professionalism itself is forced to change. The impact of online video culture on the idol and gaming industries is immeasurable, and the boundaries with the roles traditionally played by broadcasting have become blurred.
One live streaming platform, "SHOWROOM," has shown strong affinity with the reality TV format cultivated by television over many years, as evidenced by its recent tie-up with the AKB General Election. The established practice of calling live video viewers "listeners" is nothing less than an inheritance of the pseudo-interactivity fostered by radio.
Furthermore, game commentary—where viewers enjoy watching gameplay footage interspersed with commentary and casual chat—is booming not just in Japan but worldwide. Well-known commentators familiar to younger audiences on video sites draw large crowds at gaming events. However, game commentary cannot be considered a culture that spontaneously emerged solely on UGC platforms.
Japanese game commentary has been performed in multiple arcades since at least the 1990s and was heavily influenced by the popular Fuji TV CS broadcast game variety show "Game Center CX," which began in 2003.
When I was a child, terrestrial broadcasts also featured programs centered on video games, but these have now completely disappeared. It seems as though marginal phenomena, once written off by television (mass-media type), have flipped to become central to online video culture (influencer-type).
Amano: I'm also researching the currently booming live streaming culture, and I found myself nodding in agreement, particularly regarding the inheritance of communication practices cultivated by radio. This issue of path dependency in Japan's unique media culture is precisely the theme that should be questioned now, as new media continue to emerge rapidly.
Professor Iida, you also specialize in the cultural history of television. From that perspective, how do you view the current landscape of YouTuber-style video content and new television-like content like AbemaTV? I feel like faint traces of the inheritance of television-like culture and methodology can still be discerned there.
Iida: As you say, "new television-like content"—today, not only "television" but concepts like "broadcasting" and "viewers" have largely lost their self-evident nature. The distinction between content broadcast via radio waves and that which isn't is almost meaningless now.
In my book When Television Was a Spectacle (Seikyusha, 2016), I pointed out through archaeological research on television technology that "television" and "broadcasting" were not inherently inseparable from the start. From this long-term historical perspective, video streaming services like YouTube and AbemaTV, which aren't classified as broadcasters under the Broadcasting Act, are fundamentally part of the same continuum as "television."
Over half a century ago, sociologist Hidetoshi Kato, in his book From Spectacle to Television (Iwanami Shinsho, 1965), argued from multiple angles that traditions of audiovisual culture—including spectacles, shadow puppetry, shadow pictures, panoramas, picture postcards, kamishibai, and katsu-ben—were inherited by broadcast culture.
Critic Marshall McLuhan also noted that when humans face entirely new situations, they tend to cling to the closest things or forms from the recent past. We see the present through the rearview mirror, moving backward toward the future. Just as television, maturing in the 1960s when McLuhan was active, learned much from the worlds of film and theater, new technologies invariably incorporate characteristics of the previous medium.
As mentioned earlier, much of the program culture and broadcasting culture cultivated over many years by television has been inherited by the internet, albeit in transformed forms. The same holds true for the logic of the advertising industry. It's hardly surprising, then, that throughout the history of the internet, the "mass-media-like" nature of various web services has frequently been pointed out.
This perspective might be perceived as quite conservative, but borrowing Amano's words, I believe it is precisely the "line of inheritance of culture and methodology" that lends strength to new technologies and media. Only through comparison with this lineage can we truly evaluate what is genuinely "new."
We are media-wise "omnivores"
Amano: The expression "viewing the present through the rearview mirror while moving backward toward the future" is very intriguing!
Furthermore, the perspective you mention about media continuity—could it also be reframed to suggest that even when technology rapidly advances, audiences adopt it at a different pace? There was once a discourse claiming the internet would supplant all other information media, yet in reality, diverse media continue to coexist.
In that sense, perhaps we are omnivorous beings in terms of media theory.
Reflecting on the discussion so far, I'd like to revisit a point you raised: that video streaming services like YouTube and AbemaTV, which aren't classified as broadcasters under the Broadcasting Act, are fundamentally "television" in the broader sense. However, I also believe these platforms expand through sharing on the internet. Users share content that truly moves them, content they want to tell others about.
This raises a fascinating connection to your earlier point about sharing carrying a simultaneity distinct from mass media. Couldn't this be a key hint for understanding the nature of these new video platforms?
Iida: In the case of AbemaTV, while its integration and compatibility with Twitter are notable, it behaves much like terrestrial TV. Comments from guests or screenshots of programs spread on social media, get picked up by online news or aggregation sites, and sometimes a guest's gaffe can spark controversy. Looking at how both serve as sources of content shared on social media, it makes sense for AbemaTV since it positions itself as "TV." But even from a sharing perspective, it feels quite close to traditional television.
However, established TV broadcasts are overflowing with phrasing like "According to this morning's ◯◯ newspaper..." or "...as reported in tomorrow's issue of Weekly ◯◯." Reading articles while tracing the pages of various newspapers is a thoroughly familiar sight, isn't it? Even if the program itself is live, it remains inextricably tied to the temporal nature of publishing popularized in the 19th century, clinging to the most recent past. In a way, precisely because they have fewer such ties, AbemaTV and YouTube might even be seen as closer to pure "television."
Even though AbemaTV is a new platform for the video and advertising industries, most consumers still perceive it as just another "mass-type" media outlet. On the other hand, YouTube seems to contribute to the media-ization of consumers themselves. Compared to television, its structure for information dissemination appears more complex.
In any case, if we can say that people are synchronizing, or pseudo-synchronizing, on a given platform or via SNS, I think it's crucial to consider what exactly this achieves. That's what I mean by "different synchronies."
How to Implement "Ephemerality" in Media
Iida: When considering this, the term "ephemeral," one of the key concepts in this book, is a profoundly deep concept in media theory.
Ephemera refers to single-print materials that are not intended for long-term use, are not preserved, and vanish fleetingly. Specifically, this includes flyers, pamphlets, wall newspapers, and doujinshi. Research on wartime propaganda, for instance, highlights how such ephemera wielded significant influence as tools for mass mobilization. This aligns with the so-called "power effect theory" (originally emphasizing the direct, immediate impact of mass media), where the "lack of freedom" for the audience is stressed.
However, within ephemera, the ideas and practices surrounding zines (small, self-published booklets) represent a complete opposite. It is argued that it is precisely through their ephemeral nature that people can approach "free" communication. Regarding the creativity that emerges precisely because of their ephemeral nature, cultural anthropologist Masao Yamaguchi also developed arguments in the late 1990s, posing the question of "the provisional nature of culture." Amano's examination of ephemeral SNS seems to connect with these discussions.
In other words, while ephemerality is inextricably linked to synchrony, it doesn't unilaterally determine the medium's characteristics. Noting that mass media's synchrony isn't monolithic either, there exists a distinct lineage of ephemeral media that isn't archived. I think it's best to interpret the synchrony of sharing within the context of this latter lineage.
Amano: The discussion on "ephemera" is very intriguing. Particularly, as you pointed out, the relationship between "transience and freedom" is a theme I myself explored in my book. Indeed, Instagram, by introducing the Stories feature, skillfully overcame the drawbacks of shared content lingering indefinitely, thereby increasing user dwell time and engagement rates. I interpret this as a result of offering users a new kind of "freedom."
Live streaming, which we discussed at the beginning, and ephemeral content like the Stories we just examined. From this perspective too, I feel these are formats we must pay even greater attention to going forward.
Finally, I would be grateful if you could share your overall impressions from our discussion so far, or perhaps Professor Iida's future interests and areas of focus!
Iida: I too find the potential of a sharing culture mediated through visual communication deeply compelling. However, looking beyond just SNS to the broader internet landscape today, it's undeniable that a palpable sense of stagnation pervades.
The severity of issues like fake news and hate speech goes without saying. As Mr. Amano also touches on in his book, the rise of certain summary sites and curation sites—which are hardly beneficial—has led to a decline in trust in search engines.
Against this reality, the methods Amano-san calls the shift from "Googling" to "tagging" – like SNS search and visual search – are undoubtedly stopgap media literacy practices. However, considering the potential once expected of the internet, it's hard to shake the feeling this is a retreat...
Furthermore, regarding "SNS fatigue" among younger generations, I view it more pessimistically—or rather, more gravely—than Mr. Amano discusses in this book. While literacy may be improving, allowing users to skillfully avoid social climbing and online backlash through rational information-seeking based on shared interests, SNS fatigue stems more from the suffocating nature of bringing "unchoosable" relationships—like those at work or school—into the online space, effectively creating an augmented reality.
The growing momentum to positively historicize the virtual reality-like net culture of the 90s, and conversely, the emergence of the concept of "post-internet," are likely reflections of this sense of stagnation. I want to gradually consider what possible breakthroughs might exist against this reality.
Amano: Thank you for raising such an important perspective! As you point out, the positive expectations surrounding human connection that ballooned during the phase of SNS proliferation seem to be cooling off lately—or even reversing, one might say—and I sense this atmosphere starting to spread.
In my book, I referenced MIT professor Sherry Turkle's argument, which captures the modern mindset as "I exist because I share" while sounding an alarm about this state of affairs. Precisely because we've shifted to a society where everyone is a publisher and nothing functions without sharing, those of us whose livelihood involves communication must perhaps focus even more intensely on these very issues.
Thank you very much for this valuable opportunity for dialogue!
The Psychology of Sharing: Stories That Make You Want to Share [3]
