Why NPC TikTok is better than porn
There is a trend that is currently taking the internet by storm. I was first exposed to it on Twitter when a beautiful young Montreal woman going by the name Pinkydoll began making the rounds on Twitter. Her notoriety comes from mimicking a “non-playable character” (NPC) from a video game. Internet slang has expanded the definition of NPC since the Trump era, labelling any person deemed incapable of thinking for themselves, whether a Trumpian or a liberal, an “NPC” similarly to how NPCs’ coding makes all their actions and dialogue pre-determined and scripted. To “follow the herd” or to spiel political mantras and buzzwords will likely expose you to accusations of being an NPC.
But, no more. Now, to be an NPC is to be envied by critics, ogled by men, and aspired to by young women. Take Pinkydoll who, according to an interview with the New York Times, makes approximately $7,000 a day playing an NPC on her TikTok livestreams and on OnlyFans. For hours – and only since the beginning of the year – she will, in a sexy baby voice, repeat quirky catchphrases like “gang gang”, “mmm ice cream so good” and “yes yes yes strong woman” when accepting prompting virtual gifts from viewers. Although the overwhelming reaction to the trend has been one of confusion or outright hostility toward the, predominantly, women hosting these livestreams, PinkyDoll and others like her don’t seem to care. In her own words: “If you work you can get [Versace too]...You could put this time [you waste hating on me] on you.” Fortunately for viewers and critics, sanctimony is priceless in a material world.
Essentially, the ‘viewer-as-gifter’ gets the best of both worlds when it comes to partaking in an NPC livestream: His (or, rarely, her) fantasy becomes almost indistinguishable from reality, and, importantly, vice versa. I say “almost indistinguishable” because when an NPC TikToker “breaks character” she will often lose hundreds of viewers unless she gets back into character within a reasonable amount of time. This was something I observed firsthand last night in the case of creator ashton leigh whose stream – self-deprecatingly titled “NPC Cringe” – went from 1.6K viewers to a measly 523 viewers last night when she took a 10-minute break from character. The desire and interest wasn’t in Ashton-as-autonomous-human but in the lifeless-as-erotic entertainment she was inadvertently offering.
And in this, NPC TikTok offers viewers something that pornography can only dream of: There is no need for the suspension of disbelief or an acknowledgement of a fourth wall purposefully being shattered or kept intact. Instead, the self-objectifying yet simultaneously lifeless NPC creator invites (either directly or indirectly) objectification as a necessary component of being a consumable thing whilst also successful dispelling any divide between the fantasy, reality, and the passage of time. It is telling that these NPC interactions are all livestreams and therefore happen in real-time. An NPC creator is reacting and responding to you – yes, you – in the here and now and is of your fantasy and, importantly, of your reality. As Twitter user @IntelegentF describes it:
Typical pornography is a simulation of something real where the screen acts as a portal to a real person in a real place. The TikToker, however, is more real than this because, in[s]tead of ‘faking the real’, she is ‘really fake’. She is no longer BEHIND the screen, but is entirely merged with it. The screen is an object in your hand and so the NPC becomes an object in your hand also – The ultimate objectification! And the ultimate intimacy! For in becoming your screen, she is now ACTUALLY in your hands!
These content creators are women who are clearly attractive and have likely experienced being sexualised their entire lives. Objectification theory shows that because attractive women are typically treated better by virtue of their looks, self-objectification is a means by which to reclaim control over their sexuality whilst retaining femininity and its favourable treatment by others.
Thus, self-objectification happens when women accept being reduced to physical aspects of themselves and behave accordingly…Traditional gender role stereotypes typically characterise women as weak, nurturing, passive, and less agentic. This traditional stereotypical view on women as being passive may be reflected in (self-) objectifying behaviour and endorsement of (self-) objectification.
Of course, there is a far more ‘artistic’ form of being an NPC. Polish duo and professional dancers Nicki and Loczek (known on their social media as Loczniki) have been making mesmerising, although eery, content for several years, amassing millions of followers across platforms whilst also selling a “How to be an NPC course” for prospective enthusiasts. Though there are hardly any sexual undertones to their content – They are, for instance, very open about being a romantic couple and professional dancers – tips offered on how to become an NPC have something in common with this latest TikTok trend and why it is proving so popular. “Look into space without emotion” and “Don’t focus your eyes on anything” are crucial steps in becoming an NPC character, according to Loczniki. The lifeless, vacant stares of Nicki have truly captivated audiences more than her male partner’s which is probably why short videos of her “going on a date” with an off-camera Loczek do so well compared to content in which he visibly features and interacts with her as her significant other.
I don’t think this trend is as dystopian and “like an episode of Black Mirror” as critics are making out. This trend is one of many instances of a very human response and/or outlet to a very particular dilemma of our age. Since “the personal became political” – and, thus, since sex became political and a public spectacle – interpersonal trust is no longer deemed the ultimate, sole prerequisite for creating and sustaining intimacy with a fellow human being. Interpersonal trust has instead been pushed to the side-lines in favour of promoting and, in vain, trying to universalise codes of conduct and moral norms around consent, power play, and pleasure. The greater polarisation between (young) men and women, as is most starkly seen on social media, has been counterbalanced by our overreliance on Consent Culture:
If there’s “enthusiastic” or “verbal” consent, anything goes. The highly personal and sensual mutuality of pleasure and lovingness is completely absent from the priorities of “consent”. If there isn’t “enthusiastic” or “verbal” consent, the default is to always see what ought to perhaps be the beauty of spontaneity and the exploratory nature of true intimacy as akin to being predatory or not respecting “boundaries”. As intimacy is increasingly founded on negotiating control and power dynamics, trust – and the love and vulnerability inherent to it – is nowhere to be found as the essential component to interpersonal relationships. Not only do NPC livestreams enable a viewer control over a lifeless, cam girl-esque creator: Such self-sexualisation and the increased normalisation of sexual intimacy as commodity conforms perfectly to our zeitgeists’ conflation of “control” with “intimacy”.
As long as our understanding of intimacy and interpersonal trust remain influx, NPC livestreams are here to stay even if their virality ends faster than an orgasm.
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