The hollowing effect of applause

On not losing yourself to the algorithm

“The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing.”

― Oscar Wilde

Paweł Kuczyński

You either log off, or stay online long enough to watch once-respected commentators debase themselves for clicks. Or at least, so it seems. I’ve seen enough voices lose themselves to wonder: How do we stop our following from swallowing us?

Part of why the internet feels so petty is that we grow too familiar with people we were never meant to know so well, especially those we once admired. Indeed, familiarity breeds contempt, and online both mystery, minds and manners disappear. All too often, it’s only a matter of time before the insecurities of those who made a name for themselves online become crystal clear. The hunger for approval, tired talking points, and the smugness that intensifies with each viral post. They become hollowed-out versions of the clarity and decency that once drew us in. What once felt insightful becomes insufferable, soon enough we find ourselves in a front-row seat to their unraveling.

Watching previously-admired voices spiral into caricature is a painful reminder that intelligence doesn’t buy integrity. If anything, social media is remarkable at demonstrating that intellect, education, professionalism, wealth, even reputation, offer no immunity from the corrupting force of attention.

While some of this is just human nature doing what it does, there’s also the psychological phenomenon known as audience capture — when popular internet figures begin to shape their words, beliefs, and behaviour in the image of their most fervent supporters.

Audience capture can affect anyone who posts on social media. But I’m thinking specifically about those in the so-called, “marketplace of ideas”. For instance, it could be an academic once admired for his clarity who has slowly shifted into conspiratorial ranting, paranoia and breathtaking self-aggrandisement. Someone who interprets even the softest critique as proof of his courageous truth-telling. Or, it could be a commentator who used to voice reasonable criticisms of uninviting speakers from universities, who now frames every cultural shift as proof of impending civilisational collapse. Such sharp, pivots in belief, behaviour, and tone betray something deeper than just a natural progression in their views.

However, I’m wary of internet-popularised diagnoses, especially as in some cases, what we call audience capture might be something more like, halo-removal. If audience capture is the slow distortion of a person to fit their audience’s expectations, halo removal is the audience’s disillusionment as the person fails to meet theirs.

It’s too simplistic to assume every once-wise commentator has suddenly gone mad. Sometimes it’s that they’ve finally moved onto a topic that exposes how warped, simplistic, or un-insightful their thinking has always been. Agreement on earlier subjects masked the rot. Now that the topic has shifted, the cracks are visible. What looks like a fall from grace might just be clarity catching up. As it’s much easier to think they’ve changed than to admit we mistook shallowness for brilliance because it aligned with our views.

Nevertheless, audience capture is real and has democratised a struggle that was once mostly the artist’s: give the audience what they want, or give yourself what you need? And with so much reward and recognition, it’s not hard to see why so many choose the audience route.

For those with unpopular opinions, being shunned by the mainstream is bearable when the same beliefs bring thousands, if not millions, of followers. Just as we can try to be liked for what we aren’t, the rush of approval makes it tempting to amplify the parts of ourselves the crowd rewards.

When rejected by the mainstream, or by one’s peers, colleagues, friends, and the broader culture, there’s an understandable desire to build a home where you’re welcomed. But rejection weakens discernment, making us more willing to bend, overlook, and accommodate, just to avoid being evicted again. And then there’s the very real financial incentive. Once speaking gigs, sponsorships, and wealthy backers enter the picture, changing one’s mind means risking the perks of their new way of life.

But of course, some resist the pull. In an era where our lowest urges can be instantly sated and shielded by screens, I find myself less drawn to what people say, and more to what they choose not to do. As technology grows more advanced, it's worth considering how we can resist being hollowed out by the very tools we rely on. Not everyone becomes hostage to their audience, so how do some remain intact while surrounded by incentives to fragment?

Many qualities may play a role—but for the sake of your attention, and mine, let’s hone in on the two most essential.

The first is integrity.

Integrity

Of all the virtues, we seem to hear about integrity the least. It could be because so many feel they’ve had to compromise it to survive. Or because there is a fine line between integrity and inflexibility, and many confuse the latter for the former. It doesn’t help that those who pride themselves on integrity are often perceived as stuck up, judgemental, and high on a self-importance.

This isn’t a textbook definition. But when I look at those who embody integrity well, it seems driven by an almost irrational faith in themselves. Perhaps something closer to a quiet knowing that success can be achieved without abandoning their values.

Even when integrity leads to hardship, they choose internal coherence over external reward. In fact, success without internal coherence bruises the fruits of their labor.

But the key to this desire for moral consistency is having values in the first place. To have clearly defined values outside of our natural allegiances to family, religion, love, and work isn’t as common as we might think.

To truly value resilience, focus, courage, and wisdom isn’t just to say so, but to feel their absence as deeply as betrayal. Acting with integrity becomes less a matter of willpower, and more a matter of avoiding a private kind of heartbreak.

When I look at those who haven’t succumbed to audience capture, they seem to have something deeper than politics and traditional markers of stability anchoring them. But a centre of gravity that protects them against the dark-sides of both applause and outrage.

Beyond the financial pressures that can force us to do away with integrity, the trait may not appear as commonly as we’d like because it requires believing something difficult; that you are valuable without external achievements, and therefore unwilling to sacrifice everything in their pursuit. Naturally such a belief will waver, but it remains lodged at the centre, surfacing in the moments that count.

In a time of eroding morals, shamelessness, and a permanent digital record of it all, integrity ought to be treated as a supreme virtue. It acts as a guardrail, keeping you from joining the fads that degrade everyone involved. It forces you to self-reflect and commit to a standard of maturity, irrespective of how juvenile the audience becomes.

Of all the virtues, integrity is one of most impressive. It shields you from allowing money, influence, or status to seduce you into degrading yourself. And few things are more powerful than the ability to not lose yourself based on what others can give you.

Remaining Unclaimed

Many who don’t succumb to audience capture manage to stay independent within their alliances. Such people don’t have a clique, nor do they vie for attention from figureheads of online movements. Instead, they remain on speaking terms with people across the political spectrum.

This makes them ideologically harder to pinpoint, so despite where they fall politically, the majority of the Left wouldn’t claim them, and right-wing influencers wouldn’t rush to say they meet the conservative criteria either. How they politically identify appears to be of little relevance, as their loyalty lies not with the group, but with their principles.

Even if they share the same opinions as their followers, the way they conduct themselves is markedly different. They recognise that supporting a side doesn’t mean adopting its personality. And when you don’t take on the collective persona, your own side’s flaws become impossible to ignore.

Pointing them out then becomes second nature. Not to stir up tension, or for the sake of contrarianism, but because loyalty means wanting the group to thrive, and that can’t happen unless there are those willing to point out some flaws.

It’s also easy to get trapped by popularity when you’re emotionally dependent on the key figures in a scene. Those who avoid capture often have deeper interests outside politics, which brings them into contact with people who don’t share their views, and keeps politics from overtaking their personality.

There’s a beauty in maintaining close connections with people who hold radically different beliefs. The chance to discuss their beliefs up close is no small thing if you’re interested in people. And so long as it isn’t driven by fear or avoidance, being able to listen to opinions you find completely off the wall, without needing to correct or convert, reveals a kind of emotional sturdiness and maturity. It suggests someone unthreatened by difference, with little to prove when they encounter it.

But perhaps the most important factor in maintaining independence from your alliance is understanding that shared opinions aren’t the same as shared values. As such, they know the praise they receive online can stem from motivations and grievances they personally don’t share. Aiming to think for themselves, they're aware that other parts of their worldview would alienate the very people cheering them on. They know their supporters appreciate only a slice of them making it easier to respect their audience without overdosing on their approval.

When Applause Becomes Corrosive

But audience capture doesn’t just affect individuals, its corrosive influence can spread outward. It leaves fanatical followers taking cues from someone unmoored, turning their disorder into a collective descent. But maybe audience capture would be less seductive if we applauded different things. If we weren’t so quick to ignore every clear sign of someone spiralling simply because we agree with them.

If we respected instead of pounced on commentators for admitting mistakes when they didn’t have to. If we appreciated political influencers for talking with people across the political spectrum instead of acting like the discussion will be ideologically contaminating. And of course, if we recognised the insanity in demanding the constant alignment of people we’ve never met.

Audience capture is a two-way dynamic, it doesn’t exist without the audience. As readers, listeners, and followers, we share some responsibility in how some voices can lose their voice. It is tedious to listen to so many speculate about the cause of moral decline, when online we reward the most anti-social behaviour without hesitation, so long as the target is someone we oppose. This is how we contribute to their undoing, applauding everything that pushes them further from stability.

There’s been recent debate over the responsibility of podcast hosts and the risks of platforming controversial guests. But when social media can so radically reshape reality, responsibility falls on everyone who participates in it. In a highly uncivilised digital landscape, self-governance isn’t optional.

To reiterate, audience capture reminds us that no amount of intellect or success grants immunity from the corrupting force of attention. Few people are spared, no matter how intelligent they may be. If we refuse to moderate ourselves, we shouldn’t be surprised when the reality we help shape becomes hostile, hollow, and morally degraded. Some of our deepest challenges will fall on deaf ears if we rely solely on facts and theory. What’s needed is harder to quantify but just as urgent: restraint, integrity, and a kind of intuition unwarped by ideology— if we don’t want to be gutted out by the very influence we chase.