The great error of internet media is simple: it treats content as inventory. We live in a world where a clip, an article, a video is pushed into circulation, priced by impressions, harvested for attention. Many have blamed ads for this, but that’s not the case. Ads are just one means to fund the chaos. The chaos mode and attention seeking rewarded by X and other platforms isn’t the fault of the model, but the presumed reward of success. Get people going, whether right or wrong, and the views define you. It’s taken control.

The problem is, content as inventory creates one-off spikes which then fuel churn. It doesn’t focus on authenticity, in the sense that creators are putting out what they believe is good. They put out what they believe can cause a reaction. And that burns everyone out and trains audiences to skim and discard. That’s why so much of today’s web media feels cheap and disposable. It is engineered to be.

Media was never supposed to be inventory. Media has always been infrastructure. Its true role is to orchestrate community, to provide experiences, to build the scaffolding of culture others can fit into. When media is infrastructure, it compounds, creates network effects, recurring engagement, and cultural capital. It turns an audience into a tribe, a ritual, a market. I wrote about this a while ago as Media as Subcultures:

“The relationship between creator and consumers is more valuable than its transactional currency (ie. content). In this era of media, the content is not the only product. The content is a key part of the value in that it’s the tool for consistency but the creator and the community are the product. The true value is the connection between consumer and creator acquired through a variety of access points that eventually develop a consumer benefit. As the business moves from content is value to creator is value we should shift the business opportunities that support it as well.”

Rolling Stone in the ’70s wasn’t just selling magazines, it was constructing an identity for a generation. It was fucking cool. MTV in the ’80s wasn’t just broadcasting music videos, it was building a ritual, a shared language for youth culture. Again, it was fucking cool. When you monetize inventory, you optimize for the unit. When you build infrastructure, you optimize for the network. One path creates noise, the other creates gravity. Barstool Sports doesn’t win because of any single podcast episode or blog post, it wins because “Stoolies” are a tribe. K-pop labels don’t extract value from one video view, they mobilize entire fandoms, turning each release into a global campaign. Reddit threads die in a day, but r/wallstreetbets or r/kpop persist as cultural engines because the infrastructure is the community.

Experiences are where this becomes undeniable. Supreme’s lookbooks are forgettable inventory, but the drop ritual, lines around the block, and coordinated scarcity became infrastructure, transforming consumption into culture. That’s why the brand still has gravitational pull decades later.

The tweet, the article, the video were never the point. They’re just portals. What matters is what they convene, which is the conversation, the ritual, the shared experience. That’s where the value is. That’s where the business is. Media thrives when it’s built as infrastructure for belonging, not just assets to monetize. Until the industry stops treating media like inventory, it will keep collapsing under the weight of its own short-term extraction.

Dark Star Crashes