This article is quite different from what I usually write. Most of my previous pieces are academic and based on research findings. But this one isn’t in that typical ‘academic style’; it’s more of a personal reflection on the current media and social media trends in Sri Lanka. In a way, it’s connected to my last article, where I explored how a country’s media outputs can reflect the mindset of its people. Here, I’m trying to unpack that same idea in the Sri Lankan context.

When I have free time, I often read online books: reading has always been one of my favorite escape mechanisms. Apart from that, I spend a considerable amount of time scrolling through social media, which has become a go-to source for staying updated, especially if you're not deliberately reading or watching the news.

I grew up in Sri Lanka, but over the past decade, I’ve had the opportunity to travel quite a bit. Seoul has been home for almost five years now, and I’ve grown to appreciate many aspects of South Korean culture. One thing that always stands out is how professional they are in whatever they do, whether it’s making music, dancing, or acting. Naturally, this made me wonder: why haven’t we (Sri Lanka) been able to reach a similar level of success in our entertainment industry?

It’s frustrating, and honestly a bit sad, to see how our local industry often just imitates what’s already out there. Whether it’s endless teledramas inspired by Indian soap operas, reality shows modeled after British or American formats, or the more recent obsession with K-pop aesthetics, originality seems to be in short supply.

These are just a few examples, but they point to a bigger issue: a serious lack of creativity and identity in our entertainment scene.

What bothers me even more is the lack of professionalism in our television programs, especially those so-called “celebrity talk shows.” Many of them thrive on disrespecting the privacy of their guests, with hosts asking uncomfortable, often sexualized questions just for the sake of grabbing attention. It’s honestly disgusting, and it makes me think, does this kind of content really reflect the collective mindset of our viewers?

After all, the media is a business, and it runs on the simple principle of supply and demand. If there’s no audience, these shows wouldn’t survive. So if these programs continue to be popular, does that mean the majority of the population enjoys or even expects this kind of low-quality content? If that’s the case, then perhaps what we really need is a radical shift in our education system, and maybe even a national-level “mindset reset.”

In the words of media theorist Marshall McLuhan, “We become what we behold. We shape our tools, and thereafter our tools shape us.” It’s a powerful reminder that media isn’t just a reflection of us; it also changes us.

Now, shifting gears a bit: let’s talk about TikTok. The rise of TikTok trends in Sri Lanka is honestly fascinating. Young people are making videos about almost everything: the food they cook, what they eat, what they do at home, and their daily routines. And many of these videos get thousands of views.

According to a 2023 report by DataReportal, around 3.4 million Sri Lankans were active social media users, with TikTok and YouTube among the most popular platforms for content consumption and creation. That number continues to rise.

In a strange twist, these ‘TikTokers’ often seem more creative and relevant than the so-called professionals running our TV channels. They know how to tell stories in ways that connect. A common trend I’ve noticed is how many of them portray poverty, whether subtly or openly, as part of their content. Some show the hard realities of their lives, seeking empathy and support from viewers. Others even go so far as to ask for direct help, like collecting money to visit religious sites. Strangely enough, this works. People respond with likes, shares, and donations, perhaps because, at heart, Sri Lankans are kind and empathetic people. And these ‘TikTokers’ are well aware of this, so they exploit this in a subtle manner.

But behind all that ‘everyday life’ innocence, there’s often a very smart marketing game at play. These creators know exactly what their audience wants, and they know how to package it just right. They’ll say, “We’re just sharing our real lives,” but let’s be real, that “real life” is often curated, edited, and timed for maximum impact. And it works: they build massive fan bases and become mini-celebrities. Even the backlash doesn’t seem to slow them down. Sure, they get their fair share of negative comments, but they’re clearly aware of what they’re doing.

It’s actually a pretty impressive income stream in a world driven by social media visibility. What really caught my attention, though, was seeing some of these TikTokers being invited to mainstream media talk shows. That’s when I thought, they’re not just playing the game; they’re winning it. In terms of audience engagement, they might just be leaving traditional media in the dust.

As George Orwell once said, “Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed: everything else is public relations.” These days, I sometimes feel like TikTokers are doing exactly that—sharing stories and realities that traditional media tends to avoid. Maybe that’s why they’ve become more relatable, more influential, and honestly, more watched. They show us life as it is—raw, unfiltered, and familiar. Maybe people like them because they talk about our day-to-day struggles in creative ways, or because they bring up topics we all think about but rarely say out loud.

Sometimes, their content even takes us back to the simplicity of village life, and there’s something comforting about that in our fast-paced, exhausting routines. Maybe it’s that sense of familiarity, or maybe it’s just a smart way to make a living after putting in some creative effort. Either way, it says something about what we’re craving in our media these days.

Anyhow, at the end of the day, our media, whether it’s on TV or TikTok, is a mirror, in my opinion. It reflects who we are, what we value, what we tolerate, and what we aspire to. While there’s nothing wrong with being entertained, we need to ask ourselves some tough questions: Why do we keep feeding on unoriginal, disrespectful content? Why are the creative voices found outside the system, rather than within it? If we want better media, maybe we need to start by wanting better for ourselves.

In the age of infinite content, what we choose to ‘watch or ignore’ speaks volumes. So maybe it's time we stop blaming the media and start rethinking the audience.