In Defense of Cultural Snobbery

The Return of Cultural Snobbery?

Popular culture is currently dominated by the lowbrow, and those who challenge this norm are often dismissed as elitist killjoys. However, with algorithmic content's rise, perhaps consumers should take their art more seriously. In Lena Dunham's Netflix romcom, Too Much, Jess has an ex named Zev who dismisses her emotional needs and cultural preferences, such as Vanderpump Rules, Real Housewives of North Carolina, and Miley Cyrus. He criticizes her taste, deeming it “manufactured bullshit.” Jess defends Cyrus briefly before tearfully imploring, “Don’t make me feel stupid for loving things!”

Zev is portrayed as a cultural snob and, therefore, a bad guy. However, this perspective may be outdated. Contempt for culture based on sophistication is considered passé. Derogatory labels like “guilty pleasure” are disappearing. Now, all culture is considered worthwhile, with superhero movies and Taylor Swift prompting academic discourse, and reality shows analyzed as societal treatises.

Insulting art now reflects poorly on the critic rather than the art itself. But should cultural snobbery be entirely discarded? Could it uphold certain standards, especially when facing AI-generated content?

A Historical View

Culture may have been declining intellectually since the Victorian era due to mass-market literature. We've adapted to more populist forms like cinema, pop music, and the internet. Suspicion of these mediums became elitist, yet hierarchies existed within them, often along racial, gender, and sexuality lines. A 2004 article summarized rockism as favoring punk over disco and authentic legends over pop stars.

By the mid-2000s, rockism was stifling. Sanneh suggested separating classics from guilty pleasures and acknowledging the value of music videos and reality shows. This led to poptimism, which values unserious art and dismisses authenticity as a pose. Snobbery was considered inseparable from prejudice, such as the backlash against hip-hop at Glastonbury. People wanted to embrace lowbrow culture, resulting in headlines about internalized misogyny.

In Too Much, Jess’s preferences are stereotypically feminine. While appraising art through prejudiced lenses is wrong, poptimism led to indiscriminate celebration. Jess defends her love for Cyrus by equating Zev’s disdain with emotional robbery, where judging equates to destroying joy.

In 2016, a webcomic about letting people enjoy things became a meme, reflecting the prevailing attitude towards cultural consumption. Mainstream fandom conflated criticism with trauma, with stars like Lana Del Rey and Halsey responding to commentators. Negativity is now seen as psychic violence, leading to enthusiasm taking over. Ironically, this benefits acts like Oasis, where criticism is replaced with celebrating British fun.

The Age of AI Slop

A new era is emerging with AI-generated music gaining popularity. YouTube has warned about “inauthentic”, “mass-produced”, and “repetitious” content, known as “slop.” Should we accept this too? Probably not. “Brain rot,” defined as mental deterioration from trivial online content, was named Oxford's word of the year, showing that consuming social media dross feels unhealthy.

AI and social media slop exhibit qualities that cultural snobbery once opposed: commercialism and soulless imitation. AI-generated content is created quickly for profit, while social media success depends on viewership. AI draws on existing culture, and social media often re-enacts trends.

In his 2022 book, Chuck Klosterman discussed the 1990s' hostility towards “selling out,” where artists made more palatable, commercial work. By 2020, the term was hard to explain. Social media blurred the lines between advertising and entertainment. During the NFT boom, art and commerce became synonymous, with prices dominating ideas. When the NFT bubble burst, nothing remained.

Reinstating Standards

If cultural snobbery can critique AI and social media slop, why not reinstate standards across the board? Tech companies prioritize viewership and exploit existing tastes. Netflix's House of Cards exemplifies this. This mindset has led to “mid TV,” or competent but unchallenging shows. Pop music is also reshaped to please algorithms, and endless reboots and spin-offs dominate.

AI is derivative, but so is much TV. Hollywood's obsession with branding is satirized in Apple TV+'s The Studio. The protagonist initially opposes commercialism but learns to compromise. While art is subjective, we can reclaim broad criteria.

Adam Curtis’s docuseries, Shifty, features Martin Amis discussing a “great convulsion of stupidity” due to television, which Amis saw as “consumerism of culture.” The idea that art can spread idiocy has disappeared. The “let people enjoy things” mindset argues for mindless pleasure during difficult times. However, these times may result from a dumbed-down, money-fixated culture.

In 1993, David Foster Wallace defined “low” culture as art that prioritizes pleasure, while serious art requires effort. Even in an era of constant phone use, Wallace’s ethos remains relevant. The easier art is to consume and produce, the less it offers. Cultural snobbery may not defeat tech giants, but it can act as a defense against vacant, commercial art. The proponents of standards should not be villainized, as they may be our saviors against brain-rotting culture.