By Marga Canon
A study led by the University of California San Diego calculated the average person’s digital diet: We consume 34 gigabytes per day, or what amounts to more than 100,500 words. As this study was conducted using American subjects, we can only imagine that countries like Vietnam and the Philippines in Southeast Asia – which have leapfrogged the desktop generation and proceeded straight to mobile – consume even more data.
What’s scary about this kind of scale is that we have little control over what type of media we consume. The situation is particularly worrisome on the internet. The algorithm for Facebook’s NewsFeed is designed to keep us engaged, sparing us (outside of the company’s occasional experiments) of content that might challenge or offend us. Google is no different: Our search results are largely influenced by what we have searched for before. We exist, in short, in an online echo chamber. We may think we are reaching out across a sea of information, but we’re actually just moving in circles in our own small pond.
The idea that our mass media – particularly the internet – is slowly becoming an echo chamber is a growing global concern, and it’s one that Southeast Asians should take seriously. For the region to continue its rise as an international economic power, we must continually expose ourselves to new ideas, challenge our existing ones, and reach out to people we know to be vastly different from ourselves. Great ideas, after all, do not emerge from the status quo, but in its rebuttal.
Addressing the echo chamber that runs our online world may only be possible through other more open digital platforms. One example from the Philippines is the recently launched Kumu, a content and livestreaming app founded by Roland Ros, Rexy Dorado, Andrew Pineda, and Clare Ros. While Kumu is targeted toward Filipinos around the world – it allows anyone to broadcast to an audience of fellow Kumu users whenever and wherever they wish – it may serve as a case study for Vietnamese entrepreneurs and business leaders who similarly want to broaden the country’s digital horizons.
The idea that everyone can be a content creator is common in other countries, but it’s still transformative in the Philippines. Like other Southeast Asians, Filipinos are still used to the idea of creative artists polished by studio talent development programs, or their digital equivalents. But when anyone can livestream, it democratizes the creative process, and in so doing, surfaces more unique ideas and talents to a wider audience.
As a platform, Kumu unearths many possibilities: A Filipino psychologist can discuss via their livestream the oft-ignored issue of mental health in the Philippines; a Filipino family in one of the far-flung provinces can give a real tour of their hometown, one that goes off-the-beaten path from the usual tourist spots; a Filipino entrepreneur can give unconventional business advice that he would not want published for posterity. Even traditional industries – singing, dancing, and hosting – can be upended by introducing indie talents who may not work for traditional studio executives but would be welcomed by an audience starved off new creatives.
Ultimately, the new talents and topics will be enjoyed by Filipino audiences as a respite from the fare that they are typically served, and provides an interesting case for founders and business leaders in Vietnam. Where so many apps are content with providing convenience, Kumu may herald a growing minority of content platforms in Vietnam and in Southeast Asia that are equally designed to provoke deeper thought. Like with Kumu, the greatest impact of these platforms will occur long after the website or app has closed. Users will walk away with new ideas, beliefs, and skills that may very well change the course of their own endeavors or inspire them to pursue new ones.
The benefits of exposing ourselves to new media – such as Kumu for Filipinos or other platforms yet to arise in Vietnam – will only begin when we admit that what we choose to expose ourselves to has a profound effect on who we are. Vietnamese entrepreneurs and business leaders need to acknowledge that our digital diet has the same impact as our food – you are what you eat. The question then boils down to: What do we want to be? In the next generation of Vietnamese content-based apps, platforms, and marketplaces we will find our answer.