Saying Goodbye To TikTok

Media is a conduit of culture, often informing the framework for how we relate information back and forth. That said, TikTok was a good thing for health and wellness.

Since its launch in 2016, TikTok has become one of the most distinguished and controversial social media apps. With its meteoric rise has come a cascade of concerns about how the app could harm the teenage brain, data collection practices, and firehose of health misinformation, among other things. To keep it brief, TikTok has found itself in the center of a long-running moral panic that resulted in its ban in the U.S. starting January 19. It’s still unclear what “banned” means. Will it only be removed from the App Stores? Will it still work on phones that have downloaded it? You can read more about that over in The New York Times.

If the app does sunset on Jan. 19, I will miss it. It has inspired many ideas I’ve reported and mused about here and elsewhere. I’ve been exposed to different ways of thinking about health and well-being. I’ve especially benefitted from creators with whom I disagree because discord fosters critical thought and creativity while forcing you to think more deeply about whatever it is y’all got beef about.

Beef permeates TikTok, which has shown us the best and worst of itself regarding health and well-being. There is a heavy focus on aesthetics and supplements alongside useful information about living a healthier life. There are influencers whose posts are reminiscent of the pro-ana content that flourished on Tumblr in the 2010s, and people in larger bodies show everyone that you can be healthy at any size. Clinicians have been fired for bitching about their patients online, and others have helped app users get help for possible medical conditions based on physical factors featured in someone’s video. Therapists have created a niche on the platform where the responsible ones toe the line between general mental health education and offering advice to people who are not their patients. And the others, unfortunately, have fallen into feeding the app’s culture of self-diagnosing mental health conditions. Following the end of Roe v. Wade, there was an uptick in harmful information about self-managed herbal abortions on the app. There was also high-quality information about how to access a safe abortion despite a state’s ban.

Media is a conduit of culture, often informing the framework for how we relate information back and forth. I could go on and on about social media and the internet's duality and how they can equally cause harm and provide aid. And these days, I believe TikTok offered more than it took—especially in the health and wellness space. (I haven’t always thought this and I’m being honest about that! 2020 and 2021 were rough years) America’s historical record and Black folks’ personal experiences of medical mistreatment guide health decisions and inform the reluctance to seek care from Western medicine institutions. However, this hesitance decreases when a Black person is receiving treatment from a Black clinician. We see racial concordance play out online, too, and Black health creators and influencers have managed to cut through the noise of misinformation on the app.

Healthy Shyla, a registered dietician, regularly shuts down bad dietary advice and trends. Cranon, the Learmann Twins, Taliyah Joelle, Libby Christensen, and Danyele Wilson are among the Black women fitness influencers who encourage women to lift HEAVY and go hard for what they want in the gym and life. Benedicte King and Kayla Jeter align mental well-being with the beauty of moving your body in a way you love daily. Dr. Bayo posts some of the best health advocacy content I’ve seen, and medical mythbuster Joel Bervell, a medical student at Yale, dedicates his account to investigating racism's role in how medicine is taught and practiced.

Moreover, TikTok has launched many meaningful careers and inspired other creators to believe it can do the same for them. I’m thinking heavy about Jools Lebron and Anania, two of the most prolific posters on the app who built their fame by being funny, relatable, and unapologetic—and, as such, have uplifted and inspired millions of other queer folks of color. Golloria’s makeup swatch videos have pushed the makeup industry to expand their complexion ranges and made millions of dark-skinned Black folks feel seen and heard. Within that, it’s highlighted America’s penchant for racial discrimination by denying many Black creators the same level of success—even when they created the trend that got their white counterparts a television contract. Outside of entertainment, TikTok has become a place of community building for people who are neurodivergent, avid readers, LGBTQIA+, navigating chronic illnesses, and many others.

Back in 2021, I wrote a piece for Slate called “The TikTok Curriculum,” highlighting how the app, when it’s at its best, can bring good and necessary information to its users:

Beneath the hacks and fun, TikTok has proven itself to be a way to broadcast lesser-known information to more people … I appreciate that the moments I use to breathe after work have become useful in another way.

And that is what I will miss the most.