A brief scroll through the YouTube comment section of comedian J-L Cauvin — a New-York-based stand-up best known for his uncanny Donald Trump impressions and sharp political satire — will fill you in on just how pervasive the influence of social media algorithms is. In his latest special, Donald Trump vs. Canada, Cauvin delivered a tour de force of a show on a chilly Wednesday evening in April that brought a full house roaring with laughter at Yuk Yuk’s in Toronto. That same show is available for free on Cauvin’s YouTube channel and has left viewers asking, in resounding fashion, “WHY ISN’T HE MORE FAMOUS?!”

The answer to that question, based on Cauvin’s comedy career trajectory since 2020, is that the algorithms which curate and disseminate content on social media are meticulously selective in a manner that favours homogenised content, manicured to the point of banality. Oftentimes, the algorithm appears to cull content that diverges from the established values of those who program and operate said algorithms. Given the wide reach and instantly gratifying nature of social media, platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and X have become a primary destination for consuming any and all forms of entertainment, encompassing everything from art to “content”. The never-ending scroll has become a shortcut that bypasses critical audience engagement and conscious selection, thereby shortchanging genuinely talented and dedicated artists whose work gets relegated by the algorithm and is never seen by a wider audience. Moreover, as Cauvin recounts, even people who have followed and subscribed to him have told him of instances where they believed he had left social media and comedy at large because he never showed up in their feeds anymore, despite the fact that he continues to put out a refined and plentiful body of work. 

As algorithms whittle down what is made popular among the masses, one can only ask: where does this leave artists with an eye for creative expression rather than marketing and the ability to game the algorithmic system? The content of art and entertainment used to reign king while marketing reigned queen; today, marketing is the whole royal family, the castle, and the entire kingdom. 

As a result, every creative is susceptible to algorithmic fallout ─ not just artists like Cauvin who are perpetually on the verge of breaking through, but A-listers and established thespians already in the public eye. Actor Maya Hawke of Stranger Things fame has been candid about directors in the film industry who, when pitching their film for investment to producers, are instructed to cast actors who hit certain follower counts if the director wants their production funded. Denzel Washington, speaking on the state of art and fame during a recent press tour, was quoted as saying, “You don’t have to be good now. You just have to be eccentric, you just have to do something stupid, you just have to get people to follow you.”

In the case of Cauvin, he’s not just some content creator doing the “stupid thing” that will get people to follow him. He prides himself on his published work and his extensive catalogue of material reaching back as far as the early 2000’s. Most famously, his impersonation of Donald Trump is a far cry from a mere impression. His short-form videos online aren’t just an exercise in catching eyes; rather he seeks to disarm viewers with an obvious laugh as a way to slip in an honest reflection of the man whose mind he seems to briefly inhabit, as only a studious expert of his craft could do. Cauvin flies in rarefied air when he dons the red hat and the ill-fitting wig on stage, but he has been failed time and time again by public policy, propagandistic agenda, and wannabe technocrats who shape social media algorithms. In an age where word of mouth and sheer talent no longer carry even a quarter of the weight that manufactured online virality does, Cauvin and artists of his ilk are examples of determination and purity of creative will. 

Many question whether or not art is dead, and the conversation will rage on as long as it remains relevant. The fact of the matter, however, is that art cannot survive without those who cannot help but follow a calling. The number of people who can be ascribed as such will dwindle as the machinations of the algorithm bear down on us all. So, yes, art is dying ─ and Cauvin thinks it’s too late.