Twitch: Empowering Redistribution or Reinforcing Inequality?

Twitch is a prominent livestreaming platform. This is a typical example that can be used to study the potential and limitations of user-driven financial redistribution. Although Twitch offers built-in tools that allow viewers to support streamers directly, the underlying structures of platform capitalism constrain their effectiveness. This article argues that Twitch’s financial redistribution practices highlight the platform’s role as a double-edged sword. It empowering grassroots efforts while reinforcing systemic inequalities. True equity may requires moving beyond these constraints through systemic reforms and decentralized solutions.

Twitch’s built-in monetization tools enable direct financial support, including subscriptions, Bits, and gifting systems. Subscriptions allow viewers to support creators on a recurring basis. And Bits facilitate microtransactions that convert engagement into monetary rewards. Community gifting amplifies financial contributions by enabling users to buy subscriptions for others, creating a culture of inclusivity. Despite these tools, Twitch retains a substantial share of revenue—up to 50% of subscription fees—which underscores its prioritization of corporate profit over equitable redistribution (Austin, 2021). This creates a dynamic where creators remain dependent on a system that disproportionately benefits the platform.

Grassroots practices on Twitch have emerged to address these inequities. A notable example is Raiding. It allows streamers to redirect their audiences to smaller creators. It increasing visibility and often resulting in financial support. This efforts align with the concept of algorithmic mutual aid, as described by Maris et al. where users leverage platform dynamics to counteract systemic biases and redistribute resources (Maris et al., 2024, pp. 9-12).

Twitch’s challenges reflect broader critiques of platform capitalism. As Austin (2021) notes, centralized platforms are designed to extract value from users, with the most visible creators capturing the lion’s share of revenue. Smaller streamers, often producing content of comparable quality, face significant barriers to monetization. This dynamic mirrors the larger inequalities inherent in the creator economy. The fame and financial success are tightly coupled, leaving less-visible creators with fewer opportunities to succeed.

It seems that Web3 technologies suggest that decentralization could offer a solution to these systemic issues. Blockchain and tokenization promise direct ownership and monetization, allowing creators to bypass platforms like Twitch. Streamers may issue NFTs tied to exclusive content or events. It enabling audiences to invest in their success. As Austin (2021) argues, Web3 envisions an internet where every interaction is a financial transaction, reducing reliance on centralized intermediaries. However, these technologies are not without their flaws. Early adopters and established creators often dominate decentralized systems. From my point of view, Twitch must go beyond token gestures and adopt structural reforms to achieve genuine redistribution. I argue that one possible solution lies in creating a cooperative revenue-sharing model, where a percentage of platform profits is pooled to support smaller creators. This would ensure that all streamers benefit from the platform’s success. Similarly, Twitch should implement greater transparency in its algorithms. It may enabling creators to understand how visibility and revenue are distributed. Regulatory intervention could enforce these changes. Let platforms accountable for inequitable practices.

Extended link: YouTube Video: “Twitch Is All In On NFTs (Around The Metaverse)”

It seems that such reforms are unrealistic within a for-profit model. However, the open-source software movement, successfully challenged monopolistic practices in the tech industry through community-driven innovation. This approach gives a glimmer of hope. Similarly, Twitch’s vibrant user base has already demonstrated its capacity for collective action through grassroots campaigns. Scaling these efforts into broader systemic advocacy could drive meaningful change.

In conclusion, Twitch embodies the dual dynamics of platform capitalism and community resilience. Although its monetization tools and user-driven initiatives empower creators to redirect financial flows. But systemic barriers remain. To transform Twitch into a genuinely equitable platform, stakeholders must combine grassroots creativity with structural reforms and decentralized innovations. Only in this way, platforms like Twitch can evolve to prioritize community empowerment over corporate profit.

References

Maris, E., Caplan, R., and Thach, H. (2024) ‘Taking back and giving back on TikTok: Algorithmic mutual aid in the platform economy’, New Media & Society, 0(0), pp. 8–10.

Austin, D. (2021) ‘Paid in Full’, Real Life, [online].

The Hidden Labor of Social Media Users: Unpaid Work in the Digital Economy

Social media platforms generate immense revenue by transforming user interactions into economic assets, profiting from user engagement while offering little in return. Although framed as “free” services, platforms rely on user activities as a hidden form of labour, exploiting attention, content, and data without fair compensation. This blog argues that social media users perform unpaid labour, a process that platforms exploit under the guise of “free” services, and calls for a reevaluation of the user-platform relationship.

As someone who is constantly on social media, I recorded my posting for one day. First, I posted my photography on the Chinese social media platform Xiaohongshu, about a commercial street. It received 547 views, 3 likes, and 1 comment. Next, I posted a video on the Chinese video platform BiliBili about a bug in the Steam market. It received 15,000 views, 154 likes, and 342 comments, which was due to the fact that many people encountered the problem I described in the video, and it also triggered a lot of discussion. Despite the good results, I did not receive any financial gain due to the platform’s threshold for user creative incentives return eligibility. But the ads posted on the platform appear in my post and video webpage, and the platform is monetising through advertising. In fact, my labour has not been rewarded as I had imagined.

My Xiaohongshu Post
My Bilibili Video Data

Dallas Smythe’s “audience commodity” theory sheds light on this structure, arguing that media audiences are commodities sold to advertisers, performing “work” simply by paying attention to content (Smythe, 2012, p. 233). Social media intensifies this by turning every interaction—scrolling, liking, or watching—into a commodity that platforms sell to advertisers. Platforms are ostensibly “free,” yet users effectively “pay” through their attention, which becomes a monetizable product. This model converts moments of leisure into commodified labour, benefitting platforms while users remain uncompensated.


Nicole Cohen’s concept of “double commodification” extends this critique, explaining how platforms generate revenue from both user attention and the data produced by user interactions. (Cohen, 2013, p. 179) Platforms analyse these interactions, creating a stream of marketable data, or “cybernetic commodities” (Cohen, 2013, p. 183). Facebook’s extensive data collection on likes, comments, and shares illustrates this: each interaction informs personalised advertising, a revenue stream from which users derive no direct benefit. Through double commodification, users become both unpaid workers and commodified products within a system designed to maximise profit without rewarding its contributors.


Kylie Jarrett’s “Digital Housewife” metaphor offers further insight by comparing social media engagement to traditional domestic work. Jarrett argues that users, like housewives, perform unpaid labor that sustains a system from which they receive little direct reward (Jarrett, 2017, p. 3). On platforms like Pinterest, users curate boards and share ideas, driving engagement without compensation. This “affective labor” builds the community and platform appeal essential to Pinterest’s success, resembling domestic work that supports family life yet goes unrecognized economically. Jarrett’s metaphor underscores the gendered dimension of social media labor, as women are often central to community-building efforts online, yet their contributions remain underappreciated and uncompensated.


Brooke Erin Duffy’s notion of “aspirational labour” further reveals how social media exploits user ambitions. Many creators invest time and resources in building their social media presence. They “approach social media creation with strategy, purpose, and aspirations of career success” (Duffy, 2017, p. 48). Yet only a select few achieve such success, while the majority provide free content that keeps audiences engaged, benefiting the platform disproportionately. TikTok exemplifies this, where countless influencers work to grow followings, with only a fraction attaining financial rewards while the platform capitalises on their unpaid labour.


The notion that social media platforms are “free” is increasingly inadequate as they derive vast economic value from user activity while offering minimal reciprocal value. Users generate content, provide data, and fuel engagement—contributions that are essential to the platform’s business model but that go unacknowledged as labor. Recognising this dynamic and understanding social media engagement as a form of labour challenges us to consider alternative models of fair compensation or transparency. To create a more equitable digital economy, platforms should explore ways to reward users for their role in sustaining the platform and acknowledge the economic value users provide. Without such measures, social media remains an ecosystem where user contributions primarily enrich platforms, exposing the deeper exploitative dynamics of the digital economy.

Reference

Cohen, N.S. (2013) Commodifying Free Labor Online: Social Media, Audiences, and Advertising. In: E. West and M. McAllister, eds. The Routledge Companion to Advertising and Promotional Culture. New York: Routledge, pp. 163–180.

Duffy, B.E. (2017) Not Getting Paid to Do What You Love: Gender, Social Media, and Aspirational Work. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Jarrett, K. (2017) Feminism, Labour, and Digital Media: The Digital Housewife. London: Routledge.

Smythe, D.W. (2012) On the Audience Commodity and its Work. In: M.G. Durham and D.M. Kellner, eds. Media and Cultural Studies: Keyworks. Malden, MA: Blackwell, pp. 230–245.

Reclaiming AI as a Tool for Equity

Artificial intelligence (AI) has become central to creative industries, media, and digital representation. But it seems that it didn’t advance inclusivity. AI often replicates societal biases embedded within the data it consumes. These biases are not incidental; they stem from the broader influence of racial capitalism, where commercial motives prioritise profit over authentic representation. I argue that AI must be fundamentally redesigned to prioritise equity and inclusivity over profit-driven motives.

DALL·E is an artificial intelligence tool developed by OpenAI that can generate images on request. First I entered the command “Directly generate the most handsome man in the world” into DALL·E. The AI displayed a very monotonous aesthetic. It almost always generate white men with short curly hair or slicked-back hair. The results align with a stereotypical Western standard of beauty. Then, I entered the command “Directly generate a group of rich people”. The results were photos of white men and women in suits or formal wear attending banquets. This is certainly lacking in ethnic diversity. It seems that in the AI stereotype, the white community is wealthy and has a beautiful appearance. This may be a continuation of the white supremacy theory. Artificial intelligence is based on algorithms. Safia Noble (2018) points out through an analysis of search algorithms that algorithms are not neutral; they reflect the biases of the societies that create them. Noble argues that search engines, often perceived as impartial tools, actually reinforce existing social inequalities by amplifying dominant cultural norms and ideologies (Noble, 2018, pp. 35-36). This phenomenon can also extend to image-generation tools like DALL·E.

“Directly generate the most handsome man in the world” Generate results
“Directly generate a group of rich people” Generate results

Ruha Benjamin’s concept of the “New Jim Code” extends this critique. It shows how technologies falsely marketed as objective actually embed and perpetuate social biases. Benjamin (2019) points out that if AI is left unchecked, will established a “a digital caste system.” It will be associating racialised names with negative stereotypes or limiting job opportunities for marginalised groups. Benjamin’s insights underscore that so-called “neutral” technology is a myth; ethical AI requires intentional, bias-aware design (Benjamin, 2019, pp. 6-7). From my point of view, for AI to break free from these biases, developers must create mechanisms that detect and actively correct inequities rather than blindly following historical data patterns.

The commodification of diversity further complicates the issue, as noted by Saha and van Lente (2022). The authors argue that media industries often treat diversity as a marketable asset without addressing deeper issues of representation. In AI-generated content, diverse characters are often reduced to stereotypical roles. It reflects a narrow portrayal that is easy to market. But fails to challenge systemic inequalities (Saha and van Lente, 2022, p. 218). A shift in AI development toward authenticity over marketability is essential to creating systems that advance fairer portrayals of marginalised communities.

A structural challenge to this reimagining of AI lies in its development within capitalist frameworks. Virdee (2019) argues that racism has historically been a tool for sustaining capitalism by creating hierarchical divisions within society (Virdee, 2019, p. 22). AI systems developed within these frameworks will inevitably replicate these hierarchies unless actively designed to do otherwise.

To position AI as a proactive force for equity. I argue that developers must adopt intentional design principles that go beyond mere compliance with market standards. Ethical AI development should involve a community-centred approach. It needs to bring voices from marginalised groups into the design process and establish oversight structures that scrutinise AI outputs for potential biases. Through collaborative data curation and continuous refinement. The developers can design algorithms that elevate marginalised narratives. Make it prioritising social justice over commercial imperatives. Developers should not treat bias as an inherent flaw but rather as a challenge. It should be mitigated with the right tools and frameworks. This approach could reimagine AI as an agent of social equity. It is challenging the historical and economic forces that have traditionally marginalised certain groups.

Extended link: Most Popular AI Ethics Principles

In conclusion, AI’s current replication of societal biases is not inevitable. We need to rethink AI’s purpose, data sources, and development practices. And create tools that promote a more equitable digital landscape. Such a shift is not only possible but necessary if AI is to become a force for positive, inclusive social change.

References

Benjamin, R. (2019) Race After Technology: Abolitionist Tools for the New Jim Code. Cambridge: Polity Press.


Noble, S.U. (2018) Algorithms of Oppression: How Search Engines Reinforce Racism. New York: New York University Press.


Saha, A. and van Lente, S. (2022) ‘Diversity, Media and Racial Capitalism: A Case Study on Publishing’, Ethnic and Racial Studies, 45(16), pp. 216–236.


Virdee, S. (2019) ‘Racialized Capitalism: An Account of its Contested Origins and Consolidation’, The Sociological Review, 67(1), pp. 3–27.

Airbnb: Freedom or Commodification in the Digital Economy?

Airbnb’s promotional video for Airbnb.org, featuring stories of hosts offering shelter in times of crisis, presents the platform as a community-centred initiative in the digital economy. This narrative suggests that Airbnb can create genuine, decentralised connections that support people in need. However, this portrayal obscures a deeper reality: Airbnb’s model transforms personal spaces into commercial assets, promoting a market-orientated approach that conflicts with the platform’s idealised vision of community-driven sharing. I argue that, while Airbnb taps into the appeal of digital empowerment, its emphasis on market mechanisms ultimately commodifies private space, challenging the integrity of the “sharing economy” and raising questions about the platform’s social impact.

Airbnb’s alignment with the Californian Ideology, a vision of libertarian individualism and technological optimism, forms the basis for its appeal. Barbrook and Cameron (1995) define the Californian Ideology as a framework that sees technology as a tool for individual empowerment, envisioning a free-market cyberspace where people connect without intermediaries or regulation (Barbrook & Cameron, 1995, p. 5). In Airbnb’s narrative, this vision is realised through stories of hosts autonomously offering their homes, suggesting that the platform facilitates a form of digital democracy where individuals can freely provide support. This ideal of self-determined generosity implies that, by leveraging Airbnb’s technology, individuals can foster community outside traditional institutional frameworks (Barbrook & Cameron, 1995, p. 3).

Yet, the Californian Ideology’s emphasis on individual freedom and market-driven interactions overlooks the socio-economic disparities such platforms can exacerbate. Barbrook and Cameron argue that this ideology often ignores structural inequalities, promoting a one-sided vision of opportunity that tends to benefit the economically privileged (Barbrook & Cameron, 1995, p. 8). Airbnb’s platform model exemplifies this tension, as its impact on local housing markets—where short-term rentals can drive up costs and displace residents—demonstrates. While Airbnb promises to empower individuals, it primarily benefits those with property to rent, reinforcing socio-economic divides rather than reducing them. This contradiction reveals a limitation of the Californian Ideology: freedom framed solely in economic terms can obscure broader social costs, as Airbnb’s commercial model ends up restricting access to affordable housing rather than creating equitable opportunities.

Airbnb’s platform design promotes a market-orientated model of hospitality by transforming homes into commercial assets. According to Spier (2024), Airbnb’s interface encourages hosts to adopt “professional” standards through features like pricing recommendations, photo guidelines, and automated communications (Spier, 2024, p. 9). This design encourages a shift from casual hosting to profit-driven transactions, aligning host behaviour with corporate goals and commodifying what was once private space. This approach fits within Freedman’s notion of the “economy of abundance,” where platforms use vast inventories of personal resources to expand consumer choice yet often impose standardised practices that undermine genuine individual agency (Freedman, 2016, p. 74).

Additionally, Airbnb claims neutrality in its role as a “platform,” presenting itself as a mere connector between hosts and guests. This neutrality thesis, as Spier notes, enables Airbnb to avoid responsibility for local market impacts, despite its direct influence on user behaviour (Spier, 2024, p. 7). The platform’s design subtly directs hosts to conform to Airbnb’s commercial model, challenging the idea that it is merely a passive intermediary. By embedding specific values and priorities into its design, Airbnb shapes interactions in ways that serve its profit motives, undermining the community-orientated narrative it promotes.

Extended Link: Airbnb’s Latest Commercialisation Initiative: The Co-Host Network

In essence, while Airbnb projects a vision of digital freedom and empowerment, its model reveals the limitations of this ideal within a profit-driven framework. For Airbnb to genuinely align with its community-focused image, it would need to balance its commercial objectives with social responsibility, perhaps by supporting non-commercial exchanges or community initiatives. Without such changes, Airbnb’s promise of digital empowerment remains primarily rhetorical, serving as a strategy to enhance brand appeal rather than a true embodiment of the sharing economy.

References

Barbrook, R. & Cameron, A. (1995). The Californian Ideology. Mute.

Freedman, D. (2016). “Web 2.0 and the Death of the Blockbuster Economy.” In Curran, J., Fenton, N., & Freedman, D. (eds.), Misunderstanding the Internet. London: Routledge, pp. 74-99.

Spier, S. (2024). “Uncovering Digital Platforms’ Ethics and Politics: The Case of Airbnb.” Philosophy & Technology, 37, pp. 1-27.

Dove’s “Real Beauty” Campaign: Empowerment or Exploitation?

Dove’s “Real Beauty” campaign is often praised for promoting body positivity and challenging unrealistic beauty standards. However, a closer look suggests that while Dove uses feminist language to attract socially conscious consumers, the campaign may prioritise brand loyalty over genuine empowerment. This blog argues that, by situating empowerment within a consumerist framework, Dove’s campaign ultimately reflects “commodity feminism,” where feminist ideals are used as a marketing strategy rather than a call for substantive social change.

Dove’s campaign encourages self-acceptance through slogans like “Real Beauty,” but it subtly implies that this empowerment is attainable through product purchases. Varghese and Kumar (2022) argue that this is typical of “femvertising,” which is instead driven by patriarchal consumer culture and is primarily a form of tokenism that reduces feminist discourse to brand add-ons, rather than honestly promoting feminist action (Varghese & Kumar, 2022, p. 443). Dove’s messaging, while appearing to disrupt traditional beauty norms, still reinforces consumerist ideals by positioning its products as a means of self-empowerment. This aligns with “commodity feminism,” where brands repackage feminist values into consumer-friendly messages that increase consumers’ consumption but “harm the feminist political agenda”(Varghese & Kumar, 2022, p. 443).

Sarah Banet-Weiser’s concept of “popular feminism” highlights how feminist messaging thrives within an “economy of visibility,” where success is measured by engagement—likes, shares, and visibility—rather than social impact. According to Banet-Weiser (2018), this form of feminism often avoids challenging structural issues, instead opting for “safely affirmative” messages that appeal to broad audiences (Banet-Weiser, 2018, p. 4). Dove’s campaign exemplifies this dynamic: it promotes body positivity in a way that feels accessible, stylish, and engaging. However, Banet-Weiser warns that this type of feminism, designed to be palatable and widely appealing, often makes it necessary to keep certain images and practices invisible.(Banet-Weiser, 2018, p. 11). The campaign, by making empowerment a purchasable commodity, underscores the limitations of popular feminism in achieving substantive change.

Dove’s campaign also fits into the ideological structures described by Marx and Engels (2006), who argue that “the ruling ideas are nothing more than the ideal expression of the dominant material relations” (Marx & Engels, 2006, p. 9). Although Dove’s campaign purports to challenge traditional beauty standards, it ultimately reinforces capitalist frameworks by presenting self-worth as something attainable through consumption. By connecting beauty with product usage, Dove benefits from feminist ideals while perpetuating the very consumerist culture that creates beauty pressures. Thus, Dove’s campaign does not challenge the structural forces behind beauty ideals; instead, it aligns feminist values with consumerist goals, maintaining rather than disrupting the capitalist model.

Dove’s campaign aligns with what Banet-Weiser describes as “neoliberal feminism,” a framework rooted in neoliberal values of individualism and entrepreneurialism, which are embraced rather than critiqued by this strand of feminism (Banet-Weiser, 2018, pp. 12-13). This approach focuses on the individual body—such as purchasing a Dove product—rather than addressing the systemic forces that perpetuate beauty standards. Thus, the campaign’s focus on consumption as a path, the value of prioritising the individual over the collective is incorporated into a marketing tool that focuses on individual solutions to structural problems. Instead of criticising the beauty industry’s impact on self-esteem, the responsibility for self-worth is subtly transferred to the consumer.

Extended Link: The good, the bad, and the ugly of the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty

Although Dove’s ‘Real Beauty’ campaign advocates concepts such as body diversity, which is of some positive significance, it is regrettable to see from this article that Dove ultimately places empowerment within a consumerist framework that serves corporate interests. This further exposes the flaws in the authenticity of women’s advertising and the integration of corporate and social causes. It can be said that Dove does not in fact promote real social change but rather provides a limited vision of empowerment that prioritises profit over progress. All of this demonstrates the complexity and ambivalence of women’s advertising in a consumer-driven society. Looking to the future, for women’s advertising to have a real impact, brands must go beyond superficial gestures and commit to structural change that challenges the systems driving beauty standards.

References

Banet-Weiser, S. (2018). Empowered: Popular Feminism and Popular Misogyny. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.Kozinets, R. et al. (2023). Influencers and Creators: Business, Culture and Practice. SAGE Publications, pp. 27-52.

Marx, K., & Engels, F. (2006). “The ruling class and the ruling ideas.” In M. Durham and D. Kellner (eds.), Media and Cultural Studies: Keyworks. Malden, MA: Blackwell, pp. 9-12.

Varghese, N., & Kumar, N. (2022). “Feminism in Advertising: Irony or Revolution? A Critical Review of Femvertising.” Feminist Media Studies, 22(2), 441-459.