The End of Watching Together: How Streaming Killed Monoculture
There’s a moment in recent history that feels almost nostalgic now, though it’s barely a decade old. In 2014, Bradley Cooper’s Oscars selfie with Ellen DeGeneres and a galaxy of A-listers broke the internet. It wasn’t just a photo; it was a cultural event. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it marked the last gasp of a shared cultural experience—a moment when millions of people were, quite literally, on the same page. Or, in this case, the same tweet. Personally, I think we underestimate how rare that kind of collective attention has become. In a world where algorithms dictate what we see, the idea of a monoculture feels almost quaint.
The Golden Age of Shared Attention
Let’s rewind to 2014. Streaming was still a novelty, and traditional TV reigned supreme. The Oscars drew 43.74 million viewers—a number that seems almost mythical today. The Grammys, the Emmys, even American Idol—these were events that brought people together. What many people don’t realize is that this wasn’t just about entertainment; it was about community. Live-tweeting an event wasn’t just a trend; it was a way to feel connected to something bigger than yourself. If you take a step back and think about it, this was the last time we could assume that everyone had seen the same thing.
The Fracturing Begins
But the cracks were already forming. Streaming platforms were on the rise, and the term selfie had just been crowned Oxford’s Word of the Year. One thing that immediately stands out is how quickly the landscape shifted. By the late 2010s, Netflix was no longer the underdog but a powerhouse, and traditional media giants were scrambling to catch up. Disney+, HBO Max, Apple TV+—these platforms didn’t just offer content; they fragmented our attention. What this really suggests is that the death of monoculture wasn’t just about technology; it was about choice. Too much of it, in fact.
The Pandemic’s Role in the Collapse
Then came 2020, and the pandemic accelerated everything. Locked in our homes, we turned to streaming more than ever, but we weren’t watching the same things. Tiger King and Ozark were hits, sure, but they were just two drops in an ocean of content. A detail that I find especially interesting is how social media filled the void. TikTok, YouTube, Instagram—these platforms became our new shared spaces, but in a deeply personalized way. The algorithm ensured that no two feeds looked the same. From my perspective, this was the final nail in the coffin for monoculture.
Why It Matters
So, what’s the big deal? Isn’t it good that we have more choices? In theory, yes. But there’s something profoundly human about sharing a cultural moment. It’s why we still obsess over the Super Bowl or Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. These are the exceptions now, not the rule. What many people misunderstand is that monoculture wasn’t just about entertainment; it was about a shared language, a way to connect across divides. In a politically and socially fragmented world, losing that feels like losing a piece of ourselves.
The Future of Watching Together
Here’s the irony: even as we mourn the loss of monoculture, we’re creating new forms of shared experiences. Think about the frenzy around Stranger Things or the unexpected success of Project Hail Mary. These moments remind us that we still crave connection. But they’re fleeting, and they’re rare. Personally, I think the future of shared culture will be more niche, more intentional. Maybe it’s a viral TikTok trend or a Twitter Spaces discussion. The medium will change, but the need for connection won’t.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on Bradley Cooper’s selfie, I can’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. It wasn’t just a photo; it was a symbol of a time when we could all be part of the same conversation. Today, that feels like a luxury. But here’s the thing: monoculture may be dead, but our desire to connect isn’t. We’re just figuring out new ways to do it. If you take a step back and think about it, that’s kind of hopeful. The question is, what will the next shared moment look like? And will we even recognize it when it happens?
