Why I (Still) Won't Join BookTok

It's not because I don't like what's actually on BookTok. Which, if you weren't aware, is the name for the huge community of people making videos about books on TikTok.

I am 100% in favour of people discussing books, in whatever medium they choose. You will never, not ever, hear me talking badly of a community that is passionate about reading.

But I'm still not going to be a part of the book community on TikTok. I won't join the service. I will try to avoid sharing stuff from it. I won't participate in it. And again, cannot stress this enough, none of that is because of the contents of BookTok. Most of the stuff on there is actually pretty awesome!

But I won’t join for three reasons. These are reasons that I think supersede any of the benefits of the BookTok community. I realise that as a semi-successful author in 2023 I may be dramatically shooting myself in the foot here, but this is a line that I really don't think I can cross. Here's why.

1. The Chinese government. You knew this was coming didn't you? I stop short of hysterically bleating that the app is nothing but Chinese spyware, because I think that's a bit ridiculous. But this is an app that originates in China, owned by Chinese company, and if you don't think that the Chinese government are using that data more or less as they please, you need your head examined.

The common response to that is, well, how useful could our little videos possibly be to them? It's not as if we're revealing information that will help them dispatch dissidents.

True, you're not. What you are doing is providing the vast treasure trove of voice patterns, facial characteristics, and more. This is, after all, a country with one of the most pervasive surveillance systems on the planet.

It goes beyond that, of course. The usage data you provide helps them paint a picture of Western consumer habits. I really cannot state how bad an idea this is, because the Chinese government is run by people who are very comfortable with the idea of spreading misinformation, distorting media to their advantage, and generally causing havoc wherever they go. You do not want these fucksicle sticks up in your country's media and politics, trust me.

2. It won’t be banned in the US…but it might be a shadow of its former self. I write this the day before TikTok’s Chief Executive, Shou Zi Chew, is about to testify before congress, essentially asking them very nicely not to ban his app in the US.

That’s the headline, anyway. The reality is a little more complicated. Actually banning an app wholesale in America is very, very difficult.

But difficult does not mean impossible, and the Biden administration is very keen to force a sale of the app. At the very least, they demand that the company store all of its data on American users inside America.

It's all very well to say that such a ban won't happen. But a foreign Chief Executive does not go and testify before Congress on a lark. They sense a real threat here. You also don't go and make videos pleading with your customers to protest what's happening.

As for what that means for BookTok, there is a non-zero possibility that it could vanish entirely—or at least, operate in a severely curtailed form. Am I, as an author, going to put effort and energy into something that literally might not exist in its current form in a few years? Nope.

3. It demands whoever uses it become a performer. The most successful TikToks are like miniature movies. They have a narrative, if not an actual script, and often have the central characters playing a role. Again, nothing wrong with that! If that style of self-expression that works for you, go for it. No shade.

But it definitely doesn't work for me. This isn't an old man grumbling about how he can't adapt to new technology—well, it’s not ALL an old man grumbling.

I, and most other authors I know, are probably not cut out to be performers. The skills necessary for success on TikTok are, in fact, the polar opposite of the skills that we use to write books. Books demand concentration, solitude, vulnerability. TikTok rewards extroversion, physical daring, acting.

Once again: both of these skill sets are great! But what I can't get past, even more than the whole Chinese spyware (whoops, doing it again) and imminent ban thing, is that I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do if I ever join TikTok. None whatsoever. I'm sure I could develop the skills necessary to create good BookTok content, but the thought of doing it makes me cringe.

Performing, in general, it is not something I'm comfortable with. The closest I get these days is getting on stage at our local Story Slam, which is great fun but has a very narrow scope.

There's also a real sense that BookTok isn't for me. By which I mean: it isn't for me as an author. It's run by and for readers. It's their space, which they've built to discuss books they like. Me pushing my balding-ass head in there would be like sticking my head into a teenager's bedroom, demanding to be included in the conversation.

Which…kind of sucks. I would really, really like to be involved in any arena where people are discussing my books, or indeed discussing any books. But in this case, I just can't do it.

And there is sometimes—just sometimes—a whiff of bullshit about BookTok. A writer recently got granted the space to publish a longform feature on LitHub, extolling the virtues of BookTok and wondering why more authors don’t get involved in it. Of course, the writer in question, Leigh Stein, neglected to mention that she happened to be selling $99 workshops on how to succeed on BookTok.

I’m trying to imagine that coming up in conversation with the commissioning editor, and failing. Any social media platform will always attract this sort of thing. But it’s still a serious level of ick.

I love you, BookTok. If you still exist in a year, in a vastly different form, then I might re-evaluate it. But for now, I think I'll steer clear.