TikTok and the Self: How TikTok Defines Us When We Should Define Ourselves

by Paul Fimiano

Section I: Introduction: Self-definition:

We define ourselves—at least, if you are an atheist like me who does not believe that God has a set plan for you—through our own choices and actions. We are born into this world as a blank canvas; we have no identity or meaning. But, as we live, we put color on our canvas—we define our identity and our meaning in life. This is what I believe, but in today’s climate, our society has changed—humans are forced to be defined by technology; more specifically, people have their sense of purpose and identity shaped and even dictated through TikTok. Instead of defining their own purpose and identity, people rely on an app to shape them.

 I am not saying I have not fallen victim—or have almost fallen victim—to this; there were times in my life when I used the internet to figure out facets of my identity. I have also claimed that technology—specifically TikTok—helped me find my purpose in life, but it did not. I used to believe that TikTok could help me find myself. I thought it could offer hobbies, careers, and ideas to help me figure out my purpose in life; I believed that TikTok could provide ideologies, philosophies, and more to help me define who I am—in some ways, it did. But in the end, TikTok didn’t lead me anywhere—it left me spiraling.

TikTok was—and is—constricting: it strips away the human experience of an individual defining themselves. I was once chained down; TikTok took my autonomy from me—but I broke free. My journey—and what I have witnessed in others—is one of freedom. Though I have not found myself—and I do not think I ever will—I have broken free from TikTok's chains. I am now free to explore and define who I am. My autonomy is mine—not TikTok's. Here is my journey.

A boy with dark hair and with his head down, questioning who he is.

Section II: How TikTok Affects Autonomy:

I constantly hid who I truly was—I always wore a mask; I always played a facade. I concealed the real Paul—the one who was a radical, atheistic, leftist—just to fit in. And when TikTok came around, this mask grew even stronger. TikTok destroyed my authentic self, nearly forcing it into permanent hiding. As Kristen Barta explains in her article, "Because norms are socially constructed and enforced, however, authenticity and the ability to share difficult experiences may not be available to users of certain identities." Whenever I went on TikTok, all I saw was conventionality—the “normal” way to dress, the “normal” way to act, and the “normal” way to exist. I hid my authentic identity from my freshman year of high school until I reached college—but I started finding myself again in my junior year of high school.

During my junior year of high school, I stumbled upon a book titled Existentialism Is a Humanism by Jean-Paul Sartre in my local bookstore. I will not dwell too much on this work, but the main thesis of Sartre’s work is this: “We mean that a man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world—and defines himself afterwards.” Our existence precedes (reinforced by the word “first”) our essence—we are born into this world as nothing, but through our own experiences and decisions—we create our identity and purpose. Our existence precedes our essence (a fact reinforced by the word "first"). We enter this world as nothing, but through our experiences and decisions (captured in the sentence "encounters himself, surges up in the world—and defines himself afterwards"), we shape our identity and discover our purpose.

Sartre’s thesis, his single sentence, restored my sight. I was no longer blind; I could see everything. Sartre’s ideas shattered the chains TikTok had imposed on me; they restored my authenticity and allowed me to reclaim who I truly was—and still am today: the leftist, radical revolutionary determined to see this world change. I realized that I am the only person—no other human, no form of technology, and no theological being—who can define themself.

Existential philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre with a pipe in his mouth looking at books.

Section III: Self-Determination Is Our Job:

One of the highest expressions of our humanity is an individual's ability to define both their identity and purpose—in other words, autonomy and free will. This is—inherently—human; it can never be done by a non-human entity (TikTok). Everything TikTok showed me—I believed it was me; I believed it was who I was meant to be. The videos, the people, the ads, the products—everything TikTok fed me—felt like a blueprint for my identity; I thought all of it defined who I was. It was not—I just realized this fact too late. 

Now, I am not saying TikTok did not have any part in the production of my identity—in fact, it helped shape certain parts of my identity, just as it will for all of us. TikTok reinforces social conventions that have been deeply ingrained in American culture—and many others—for centuries. People will continue to fall victim to these conventions; they will be pressured into allowing them to dictate who they are—especially when it comes to gender roles. Some of these conventions will be ingrained in us forever—but we cannot let them define us. We cannot let the social norms that TikTok forces down our throats to become part of us—unless we allow it.

If we freely allow something TikTok shows us to shape our identity, we are still defining ourselves—we’re allowing it to become part of us, not just accepting it without thought. We reflect on it, explore it, and ultimately choose to accept it. This kind of acceptance stands in stark contrast to how I acted before discovering existentialism. I wasn’t accepting what TikTok showed me—I was blindly following it. I let TikTok dictate my life and purpose; I didn’t take control of it. This type of acceptance is what freedom looks like: when we reflect on, think critically about, and engage with the things we consume, we can truly say we have defined ourselves. This is what I eventually discovered about myself: I started thinking critically about things rather than just using TikTok videos as bandages to cover up my insecurities. 

At the end of the day, we determine ourselves. We might have help from TikTok—and other forms of media—but we choose what we allow to become part of our being; we choose what becomes us. TikTok can never fully define us—it is not human, and self-definition is inherently human; autonomy is one of the most important aspects of our humanity.

A man with a face full of struggle carrying a rock with "freedom" on it; he is chained to it, too.

Section IV: Conclusion: Our Life, Our Choice:

We define ourselves—even if you are not an atheist like me, you still do define your purpose and identity. It is all in your hands. We need this type of freedom and autonomy to even say, “We are human”—without it, what are we? I cannot even answer such a question. 

We are born blank—without identity or purpose. Our canvas is pure white—untouched. But as we live, we have the freedom to accept, reflect on, think critically about, and decide who and what we become. We get to decide—based on what we consume—what contributes to our self-definition, whether it’s from TikTok or other forms of media. But, at the end of the day, our experiences, decisions, and what we freely accept from media help put color on our canvas.

References:

Barta, Kristen. 2021, October 27. "'Just be you,'? but for whom?: How authenticity and identity work on TikTok. Medium. https://medium.com/acm-cscw/just-be-you-but-for-whom-how-authenticity-and-identity-work-on-tiktok-c9fc40a25f.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. 1946, October. Existentialism Is A Humanism. https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/cross_fac/complexity/people/students/dtc/students2011/maitland/philosophy/sartre-eih.pdf.