By Sariya Camp

Reading in the digital era has taken on a new shape. With unlimited opportunity for connection on a global scale, readers are flocking to the Internet to talk about books. The emergence of this social reading culture is due in part to social media platforms such as TikTok and Goodreads, both of which cater to a wide base of book-loving web users. On so-called “BookTok,” readers have a community, a safe outlet through which to express their opinions, to bond over fictional crushes, to praise and recommend and rant about the books they consume. The platform has also aided in promoting the work of budding authors, turning debut novels into bestsellers with the push of a button. 

There is a dark side, however, to the social reading phenomenon. Book content creators tailor their videos to the TikTok algorithm to boost user engagement. Thus, we have come to think of reading in terms of tropes and trends. We pack up our literature into tidy boxes, categories that signal which books are worth our attention and which are not. We define “good” not by what is fun, innovative, lyrical, provocative, well-written – but rather – trendy, based on the buzz words and aesthetics with which we’ve come to identify. We warn one another not to judge a book by its cover, but put as much emphasis on superficial labels that tell us exactly what to expect before we have perused even a single page. Our favorite BookTok influencers tell us: this book contains an enemies-to-lovers plotline; this book is “dark academia”; this book is a level 4 on the Spice-O-Meter. 

And we listen. 

Social media has changed the way we read as a society and it has changed the way we write. In our desire to read more of what we love, we have pigeonholed ourselves into seeking out certain tropes and have lost some real, authentic storytelling in the process. The book industry has learned to take advantage, to commodify the very act of reading by pushing forward the stories that sell, not the ones we have a burning need, a responsibility to tell. Walk into any Barnes and Noble and you will find a table marked “#BookTok,” a selection specially curated for the modern reader. 

This is not to say that we live in a meaningless era, nor that trends can’t be fun. The digital age abounds with literary artistry if you know where to look for it, and truthfully, what is popular is often popular for a reason. 

No, social reading culture is problematic because of the way it assigns value. While the sorting of literature by tags we can easily recognize is useful from a marketing standpoint, it has also given way to a virtual warfare among BookTokkers. In one camp exists the enjoyers of Colleen Hoover’s emotional oeuvre, or the uber popular The Fourth Wing and ACOTAR series. The other is home to readers of Camus and Dostoevsky, purists who tear apart the former category for its lack of literary substance. The app has become the battleground between low and high culture – a dichotomy that has always been apparent to literary critics but that has lately turned everyday readers into rivals, divided over which books we should consider masterpieces, and which are merely “trash”.

In truth, why shouldn’t we dip our toes into both pools? Why not become poets and scholars who delight in escaping to fantasy worlds? Instead, we’ve turned reading into a competition, assessing who has read the best, the most. 

BookTok is not solely responsible for this society-wide shift in our reading habits, however. Book tracking platforms such as Goodreads have likewise revolutionized the way we read, for better or worse. On Goodreads, users have access to a thriving community of fellow book lovers and an endless digital catalog of potential reads waiting to be rated and reviewed, counted and organized. The side effect: comparison. The app urges us to add books to our already insurmountable “TBR” lists, to match with mutual readers to compare book ratings, and to set yearly reading goals. Our noble quest to scroll less and read more has become a race, reinforcing the idea that the quantity of books we read is of greater importance than how deeply and meaningfully we read. We are no longer enjoying the pastime of reading; we are participating in selling it. We are quantifying and categorizing rather than learning and escaping. 

Still, it is a wonderful time to be a reader. The online world buzzes with enthusiasm for good literature – whatever that means to each one of us. Thanks to the social media culture of sharing and promotion, it is popular to be a reader, and this has helped the publishing industry reach an all-time high. 21st century literature has expanded and diversified, pushing the boundaries of genre and style and paving more welcoming pathways for the young and ambitious. In spite of its faults, social reading was born out of a shared passion for storytelling. We have endless ratings and recommendations at our fingertips. One scroll, one swipe is all it takes to join the conversation. 

But we must take care, not just with what we read, but more importantly, how we read. As we reach for the novels on our nightstands, we must ask ourselves: does this excite me? When I crack open the spine of this book, will I laugh, will I cry? How many miles away will it propel me? How many centuries? Will I be inspired to think, to feel, to see life from a perspective far from my own? These are the marks of a truly good book–not a fleeting fashion, but a narrative with a lasting impact.

So take care. For when we read, we make the world.