Between all of our reading apps, streaming services, blogs, vlogs, books, movies, TV shows, etc., we’re adrift in a sea of entertainment constantly begging for attention. On paper, it’s a gift for people searching for entertainment, granting the opportunity to pick and choose what to engage with. The flip side, however, can doom viewers to spending hours scrolling through “content.”

As creators, being chosen in this ocean of entertainment is extremely challenging. Getting eyeballs or interactions is something of a game, involving the pursuit of a following and engaging with fans and others in the hopes that they’ll engage back. Unlike large companies, who rely on recognized brand identities to do the heavy lifting, individual creators often have to tie their efforts to a particular fan community or get creative in coaxing entertainment-seekers to give them just a few seconds of time. 

In the evolution of this weird world of entertainment we find ourselves in, we let a particular word take center stage, and it irks me. It’s a marketing word, but as both creators and fans, we’ve permitted its continued existence. It’s not uncommon to hear people reference things like “streaming content” or “blog content.” There even exists a group of creative people labeled as “content creators,” and their job is to get in front of the camera everyday to produce what even they label as “content.” 

Content is meaningless; it’s nothing. 

It’s a blanket-term that can refer to a subject or topic covered in anything from a personal essay to a well-researched documentary. It can mean the pages in a book as much as the items found in a box. From the keys in your pockets to the short stories in your anthology collection, it can all be “content.” 

When we label our own essays, stories, videos, etc. as “content,” we’re telling the audience that we’re offering them nothing more than a generic consumption of their time. It’s not until they take a chance on us that they can see the passion, the energy, and the desire to tell stories or share ideas rooted in far more than just an indeterminate amount of time. Whether we’re writing fiction fueled by emotions, sharing personal essays that reveal a part of the world perhaps no one is talking about, or filming analyses that get to the heart of an idea, there’s more to it than just “content.” There’s a connection formed, a bridge between one person and another, with the potential of causing a chain reaction of self-reflection, inspiration, or any number of responses that then go on to affect others. 

The point is, anyone who creates something does far more than deliver “content.” They’re sharing ideas, fascinations, fears, and passions. They’re communicating something so very human that exists in a realm deeper than a catch-all corporate term. Even the bad stuff. 

Don’t call your creative darlings “content.” Ever.