The practice of parodying: YouTube as a hybrid field of cultural production

Abstract

Parody is so pervasive in participatory culture that it is described as a central component of Internet vernacular. Valuable insight has accumulated about parodies as artifacts, however, little is known about their creators. Drawing on the sociology of culture, this article explores YouTube music video parodies as a field of cultural production. Through interviews with 22 YouTubers recruited from a sample of top-ranked parodies, it examines the relationship between practitioner characteristics and their evaluation of parody. Contrary to other studies of participatory culture, the field was predominantly male in its participation and norms. It presented a divide between ‘strategic’ and ‘passionate’ practitioners who used parody to different ends. Nevertheless, interviewees valued similar attributes of parody, often diverging from scholarly definitions of the genre as critical commentary. This dynamic and the genre’s popularity are explained by the hybrid qualities of the field, which encourage diverse uses of parody.

Keywords

field gender parody participatory culture popular music practice YouTube

If the music video reigned the pop-cultural scene of the 1980s and 1990s, the music video parody has since emerged as a formative mode of expression and a marker of a music video’s success. This genre of textual commentary, popularized by Saturday Night Live and ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic’s act, draws many amateur content producers to YouTube. In fact, parodies of music videos are so widespread on YouTube that according to industry reports, they generate on aggregate more revenue than the original material they render (IFBI Digital music report, 2014).

Music video parodies are one salient genre within the broader compulsion of web-based culture to lampoon anything possible. Despite the accumulation of insight about the content of Internet parodies, the motivations, experiences, and perspectives of parody producers are absent from debates about the social value of parody. Drawing on Bourdieu’s field theory, this article conceptualizes music video parodies on YouTube as a field of cultural production. Its goal is to decipher the dynamics underscoring the production of parody on YouTube and their implications for the type of content valued by producers.

Based on interviews with 22 producers of music video parodies on YouTube, a predominantly male field of cultural production was identified. YouTubers described two different motivations to create parody termed here – ‘strategic’ and ‘passionate’ – which tie-in with distinct perceptions of self and audience. Despite these differences, YouTubers converged around similar evaluations of parody. It is argued that this lack of distinction derives from YouTube’s fluid structure and parody’s polysemy, which together create a hybrid field characterized by a unique blend of autonomy and commercialism, individuality and collectivism, and hegemony and subversion. The article concludes with a discussion of its contribution to research about YouTube and participatory culture.

Approaching user-generated parody from a sociology of culture

‘Participatory culture’ describes how people use media production and distribution to serve their collective and individual interests (Jenkins et al., 2013). Participatory media are associated with democratization and empowerment because they are more accessible and less supervised than traditional outlets. They have raised expectations for diversification of identities and messages (Jenkins, 2006), development of new media literacies (Knobel and Lankshear, 2007), and increased civic engagement (Kligler-Vilenchik, 2013). Skeptics, however, argue that the term is a neologism that disguises web-based commodification (Van Dijck and Nieborg, 2009). Work on the digital divide challenges its inclusiveness (Hargittai and Walejko, 2008).

Parody is an especially ubiquitous genre of expression within participatory culture (Christian, 2010; Jenkins, 2006; Jenkins et al., 2013; Milner, 2013; Shifman, 2011, 2013b), and it too has been discussed with a mixture of enthusiasm and skepticism. Parody is a form of mimicry marked by critical distance from the text it references (Hutcheon, 2000). It has been praised for its role in subverting societal and artistic norms (Bakhtin, 1982), celebrated as a cultural resource for the exercise of an active citizenry role (Hariman, 2008) and as a weapon that disenfranchised groups use against dominant culture (Pratt, 1991). The combination of participatory media with a parodic message potentially yields a powerful sphere of cultural resistance. In the highly controlled Chinese Internet, parody is used to transgresses social and political hierarchies (Gong and Yang, 2010; Szablewicz, 2014). However, the revolutionary character of parody is not guaranteed. Jameson (1990) argued that postmodern parody (or ‘pastiche’) has been drained of its critical essence and is used for the inducement of uncritical pleasure that derives from the mere recognition of references.

Debates about the value of user-generated parody typically focus on the cultural artifact. Scholars examine relationships between the source material and the textual responses it triggers. Such approaches focus on the generative nature of participatory culture and theorize dimensions involved in the evolution of content through mimetic uptake (Jenkins et al., 2013; Knobel and Lankshear, 2007; Shifman, 2011, 2013a, 2013b). Whereas some textual analyses highlight irreverent uses of user-generated parody (Highfield, 2015; Milner, 2013), others describe uncritical expressions of mimicry (Christian, 2010; Gal et al., 2016). The focus on content is instructive, but creators’ motivation to create parodies, the lengths they go through to do so, and the rewards they seek are hypothesized based on the content they create rather than gauged directly.

The sociology of culture offers a useful lens to examine this gap: it is premised on the assumption that to understand culture, an investigation of the dynamics leading to the creation of cultural artifacts is no less essential than the examination of the artifacts themselves. These dynamics unfold within fields of cultural production, namely, specialized domains of practice with their own logic, conventions, and rules (Bourdieu, 1993). Fields are structured by the distribution of material, symbolic, and social capital but are also shaped by the actions of individual agents who internalize the rules of the game as they stake their positions in the field and assign value to the objects they create.

Bourdieu’s theory has been especially influential in the analyses of small and autonomous fields of cultural production. Large-scale and commercial fields have been relatively unexplored, despite their prominence in the dissemination of cultural products (Hesmondhalgh, 2006). In the past decade, communication scholars (e.g. Couldry, 2004; Postill, 2010) advocated an examination of ‘media practices’ to understand how individuals navigate media fields. This framework of analysis can contribute to the theorization of participatory media by delineating the dynamics that underscore the creation of user-generated content.

This article examines music video parodies on YouTube as a specific field of participatory media. The following section surveys several features of this field: YouTube’s complex economy, digital practices of self-presentation, the participation gap, and the polysemy of parody.

YouTube music video parodies as a field of cultural production

Content production on YouTube: beyond the amateur–professional divide

YouTube, founded in 2005, provides a user-friendly platform for video sharing. The technological vision is straightforward, however, the platform’s socio-cultural mission is more complex. Burgess and Green (2009) argue that YouTube is shaped continuously by the tension between two dominant frameworks: a player in the commercial new media landscape versus a site of vernacular creativity and lawless disruption.

Frequently, YouTube is discussed through a distinction between two logics of cultural production that contribute to its complex cultural fabric: ‘professional’ (i.e. traditional media) and ‘amateur’ (i.e. independent individuals). Music videos supposedly illustrate this dynamic. Demonstrating a professional-commercial use, corporate music labels upload music videos to YouTube in order to promote their artists. This sets the stage for YouTube’s vernacular creativity: individual amateurs who create their own versions of the polished music video.

However, this distinction is increasingly inaccurate in describing the range of participation within this field (Burgess and Green, 2009; Cunningham et al., 2016). As YouTube evolved and its own class of home-grown celebrities developed, the professional amateur binary fails to capture visibility scales on the platform. This is evident in the world of parody: artists like Bart Baker and The Key of Awesome attract millions of viewers. They have evolved from amateurs to YouTube brands that maintain full-fledged production crews.

Moreover, the increasing accessibility of high quality cameras and editing software challenge the distinction between professional and amateur content in terms of its production value. Low quality videos certainly exist on YouTube, however, amateurs increasingly focus on developing professional video craftsmanship (Müller, 2009). Music video parodies are a complex form of user-generated content that involves lyric writing, music recording and videography – they demonstrate the full gamut of possible production qualities.

Finally, YouTube’s commercial logic challenges the distinction between professional and amateur aspirations. Amateurism is often associated with a ‘gift economy’ model, wherein contributors seek non-monetary awards, such as play, intellectual challenge, and social bonding. This logic exists on YouTube, mainly in the context of fan communities that create content as ‘labor of love’ (Baym and Burnett, 2009; Fiesler and Bruckman, 2014; Jenkins et al., 2013). However, YouTube provides amateur content producers opportunities to professionalize. YouTube’s partner program allows channel owners to monetize their content by displaying advertisements around videos. Multi-Channel Networks, akin to digital talent management companies for channel owners, provide another path for professionalization (Cunningham et al., 2016). The platform introduces an entrepreneurial ethos for amateur content creators even if few achieve financial success.

Parody potentially caters to both the communal aspirations of the gift economy model and to the commercial aspiration of YouTube’s professionalizing track. Parody can solidify social bonds because reference recognition signifies membership in community that shares knowledge and passion about the text (Jenkins, 2006). However, parody also has an economic advantage – in a highly competitive attention economy, quotation increases the noticeability of an artifact and motivates receivers to further spread and engage with it (Jenkins et al., 2013; Shifman, 2013a). The prevalence and diverse purposes of parody on YouTube provide an opportunity to examine cultural production beyond the amateur–professional divide.

The presentation of self on YouTube: parody as an embodied practice

The tension between YouTube’s commercial logic and vernacular creativity is also manifest in the presentation of self, as parody can be used for artistic self-expression and for commercial self-promotion.

Goffman (1959) distinguished between two modes of impression management: a public ‘front stage’ in which identity performance is informed by social roles and cues and a private ‘back stage’ that is free from inhibitions. In Internet’s early days, scholars envisioned that the technology’s erosion of boundaries between front and back stage opened new possibilities for the construction of self, such as the ability to engage in identity dragging (Turkle, 1997).

The emergence of social networking sites that encourage participants to display their ‘real’ identity and the emphasis that Silicon Valley’s tech scene places on a neo-liberal ‘enterprising self’ have limited such experimentation (Marwick, 2013). Through a variety of interface strategies, ‘technologies of self’ such as Facebook and LinkedIn promote the ideology of having one transparent identity (Van Dijck, 2013). Vloggers are encouraged to develop an embodied telepresence marked by intimacy and social realism (Senft, 2008). In a shift to what Marwick and boyd (2011) define as the ‘networked self’, individuals work hard to maintain a cohesive persona, while at the same time appealing to different members of an imaginary, networked audience that might have different expectations and assumptions about their identity (Litt and Hargittai, 2016).

Against this backdrop, parody represents a unique case study. The faces and bodies of the performers are typically a central component of the YouTube parody (Shifman, 2011). Parody is premised on impersonation, masquerade, and, at least in its traditional definition, on a subversive spirit. It ostensibly encourages the commingling of back and front stage modes of self-presentation. As such, the genre introduces a ripe sphere for experimentation with identities. However, parody is also premised on tension between the performer and the object of imitation. The norms established for the presentation of self in social media sites like YouTube can facilitate its use for achieving a tightly edited, audience-aware self-brand.

YouTube’s participation gap

Women have been creating videos that remix pop music with media footage (a practice known as ‘vidding’) as a form of fan-fiction since the 1970s. Despite their central role in the history of the genre, the work of female vidders is marginalized in fan communities and is relatively invisible on YouTube (Coppa and Tushnet, 2011; Jenkins, 2006).

Although participation on YouTube is potentially accessible to anyone with an Internet connection, in practice, the platform has not lived up to its egalitarian vision. YouTube’s most popular videos reveal far less racial diversity than broadcast network television (McMurria, 2006). Women are a minority among YouTube bloggers (Molyneaux et al., 2008). Whereas men and women create creative content at similar rates, women are less likely to upload this content to the web (Hargittai and Walejko, 2008).

Coppa and Tushnet (2011) argue that female vidders are intimidated by YouTube’s strict copyright policies and by the lack of control over their content. Online harassment may also contribute to YouTube’s participation gap. YouTube video bloggers observed that women tended to receive more ‘hating’ comments than men (Lange, 2007). Wotanis and McMillan (2014) found that top-ranked female vlogger JennaMarbles received more critical and sexually aggressive comments than her male counterpart Nigahiga. They attribute JennaMarbles’s success to her skillful use of parody: her parodic performances capitalize on cultural norms of gender while simultaneously criticizing them. This argument touches on the polysemy of parodic texts. It also illustrates a relationship between the position of being a woman in a male-dominated field, and the development of a particular style of parody performance.

A polysemic cultural product: parody as position-taking

The literary distinction between ‘parody’ that imitates in order to comment on the flaws of the original text/genre and ‘pastiche’ that uses imitation without critical intent is complicated by colloquial uses of parody. The term ‘parody’ is often used as a catch phrase for any work that draws on a previous one, regardless of its stance toward the original. For example, in a content analysis of music video remakes labeled by their creators as ‘parody’, I identified multiple practices of imitation, a small minority of which were parodic in the literary sense of textual critique (Boxman-Shabtai, 2018).

Field theory may help clarify why parody is used in diverse ways. It theorizes that the positioning in a field of cultural production influences position-taking, namely, the work that practitioners produce and/or the value they assign to the work of others (Bourdieu, 1993). This relationship is especially pronounced in comedy as humor tastes have been found to serve as a strong marker of status and identity (Friedman and Kuipers, 2013).

There is some evidence of a relationship between gender and parodic position-taking. Jenkins (2006) observed that male and female fans of Star Wars used parody in different ways. Female vidding was characterized by emotional intensity. It explored the emotional life of characters by emphasizing underdeveloped subtexts of the original text or suggesting plotlines that go beyond the original narrative. Men, in contrast, produced more straightforward comic and satirical parodies. The application of field theory to music video parodies provides an opportunity to gauge how content producers understand the genre and whether differences in practitioners’ positions within the field (e.g. their gender, race, status, or seniority) influence such perceptions.

YouTube’s fluid identity and parody’s polysemic nature create a field with an open structure that could support both optimistic and pessimistic perspectives about participatory culture. What components agents pick up as they maneuver the field is an unresolved question. To address this issue, this article asks the following: What motivates practitioners to enter the field of music video parodying? How do they navigate its ecology of embodied and networked presence? How do practitioners evaluate the field’s cultural object?

Method

Participants

Interviewees were recruited from a sample of videos parodying pop music hits released from 2009 to 2014. The sample was created for a content analysis of music video parodies (Boxman-Shabtai, 2018) by selecting music singles that received top ratings on Billboard’s End of Year Hot 100 Chart between 2009 and 2013 and by sampling the five most popular parodies on YouTube for each single. The definition of these videos as ‘parodies’ derives from YouTubers’ own labeling: videos were collected by entering the title of a music single and the term ‘parody’ into YouTube’s search engine. This procedure yielded a list of 100 parodies, produced by 91 channel owners, all of them were sent interview requests but initially, only 11 individuals responded. To increase the sample and diversify what turned out to be a heavily male, White corpus, the sampling procedure was replicated for 2014, and 11 additional individuals were recruited.

Interviewees came mainly from the United States: 18 Americans residing in various US regions and an American residing in the United Kingdom; others were British, Malaysian, and Irish. Interviewees were predominantly White (15), others included 2 African-Americans, 2 Asian-American, a Latino, and an Indian (1 interviewee did not specify his race). Males (16) predominated. Almost all the interviewees were college educated or attending college. The average age of interviewees was 27 years – the oldest was in his 40s, the youngest was 18 years old.

Interviewees had, on average, 5 years of channel managing experience. They varied in terms of their visibility, roughly representing the middle range of YouTube prominence. The most prominent interviewee had over 60,000 subscribers to his channel and over 18 million views. The least visible parodist had 228 subscribers and roughly 70,000 views. Interviewees were ‘amateurs’ in the sense that they operated independently from media corporations and on shoestring budgets. However, many aspired to develop professional careers in the performing arts. A handful made a living from their creative endeavors (one owned a production company, one was an actor, one was a filmmaker, and two were comedians), but more typically, they were trying to initiate such careers while working in a variety of day jobs or relying on savings or parental support. A few parodists had no concrete ‘showbiz’ aspirations: a lawyer, an IT specialist, a teacher, a stay at home mother, and three engaged in marketing and sales.

Interview protocol and analysis

In total, 20 interviews were conducted over Skype, for a duration of 45–100 minutes, one interview used Skype’s chat function, and one interviewee responded to questions via email. The interviews were semi-structured, based on a list of questions about tenure on YouTube, the creative process behind the production of music video parodies, challenges encountered, channel and audience management, perceptions of other practitioners in the field, and standards employed when judging the quality of parodies on YouTube. However, the conversation was allowed to evolve naturally, delving into points that seemed relevant to the interviewee’s experience and encouraging interviewees to articulate additional points they deemed important.

A thematic approach was used to identify recurring patterns in the interviews. Transcripts were probed for two main axes: the life stories of interviewees and their trajectories on YouTube and the language they used to describe their experiences and art, searching for repeating tone, keywords, and metaphors. After a few rounds of coding and code-refinement, the categories presented in the findings were defined. These categories for positions in the field of YouTube parody production are best described as ideal types. These are abstract characteristics of the interviewees’ trajectories, but they do not necessarily provide a well-rounded picture of each interviewee’s path. Interviewees are referred to by pseudonyms.

Positions in the field: strategic and passionate parodists

The parodists interviewed differed from the subjects of many studies of participatory culture in that most were not members of fan groups and did not subscribe to a gift economy model of cultural production. Almost all monetized their videos.

Noting the prevalence of fan studies in audience research, Gray (2003) called for more research into anti-fans (those who dislike a media text) and non-fans (who are indifferent toward it). The informants in this study were ‘non-fans’ in the sense of feeling neutral or mildly positive emotions toward the pop stars they parodied. But whereas Gray defines the non-fan as an individual who lacks the fan’s intimate familiarity with the text and the discipline involved in consuming it, YouTube parodists watched the original videos hundreds of times, studying them meticulously, and paying attention to the details of every shot and frame. In the absence of emotional attachment to the original text, why did these individuals invest so much time and energy into their parodies?

Interviewees described two distinct motivations to create parody: ‘strategic’ and ‘passionate’. These labels are that of the author, although the terms were sometimes mentioned in interviews. This distinction is based on two factors. First, the role that parody played in an interviewee’s creative path (the passionate created mainly parody, the strategist also created original material). Second, the language used to describe the genre (the passionate loved it, the strategist saw it as a means to an end). As detailed below, strategic and passionate motivations were related to practitioners’ perceptions of self and audience.

Strategic parodists

More than half of interviewees (13 out of 22) were characterized as strategic parodists. This group produced music video parodies to draw attention to their YouTube channel. They all aspired for careers in the creative industries and created original content such as comic skits, vlogs, and music. Although they usually enjoyed producing parodic videos, their main motivation was that parodies fare especially well within YouTube’s fierce attention economy. For them, parody was bait for audiences to gain exposure to the rest of their channel’s offerings. They hoped that increased YouTube visibility would lead to a larger audience following them online and offline, media exposure, auditions, and gigs.

Strategists described parody in terms such as ‘traffic goldmine’ and ‘attention grabber’. With the use of proper keywords, parodies appear in search results near the original music video, luring its audience. The tie between a parody and a music video made it appealing to viewers due to the familiarity of the reference. It also allowed parodists to form an in-group with an audience that was in on the joke. Another strategic benefit mentioned was the genre’s engaging nature. Cameron, a comedian who maintains a YouTube channel in addition to a live routine, noted that parodies are ideal for YouTube because people watch them multiple times, finding new details in the lyrics, music, and visuals on each occasion.

Despite its benefits, many strategists felt that parody was a double-edged sword: it brought in the viewers but was a distraction from the channel’s real goal. Mel, a leader of an a Capella group was not enamored by the genre. He said,

While original content […] may be the more fulfilling thing and possibly the more important contribution to society, parodized versions of existing things, have proven to get a lot more traffic and a lot more traction and media exposure than your original and your more thought-out type stuff.

Another challenge strategists faced was balancing between a ‘parodist’ and an ‘artist’ identity. For instance, Lian, an aspiring country singer based in Nashville, confessed,

I don’t want to be labeled as a parody singer. I wanna be labeled as an artist, so doing the parody was really good for me in that it got attention to me as an artist, but I now want people to latch on and be excited about my original music.

As strategic parodists navigated the field, they developed a quantified and branded perception of self. When asked to describe their audience, strategists tended to define it through the demographic data that YouTube analytics provided (e.g. ‘my audience is 18–24-year-old girls, mainly from the United States’). The practice of tracking and broadcasting personal information has been described as ‘lifestreaming’ (Marwick, 2013). Although it helps keep track of useful information, the internalization of an external gaze can lead to anxiety. This dynamic was evident among strategic parodists. Demographic data were useful as they provided a guide for content that would work best with a particular following. For example, parodists who drew a young audience refrained from using profanity. However, they often created pressure to be constantly ‘on’. Paul described concerns about maintaining his YouTube presence while he was away on vacation:

I had to pre-plan videos so that they’d upload when I was away. And they didn’t get many views, but it just kept YouTube ticking because you never want to not upload a video.

Demographic data can be confusing when it indicates that a channel draws different types of followers. Marwick and boyd (2011) referred to this challenge as ‘context collapse’: digital technologies merge multiple audiences into single contexts, making it difficult for people to use the same techniques online that they do to handle multiplicity in face-to-face conversation. Jeremy mentioned that followers who enjoyed his heavy metal parodies did not appreciate his Disney parodies, and vice versa. One of the skills he needed to develop was managing a cohesive yet versatile brand. For him, the solution was paying attention to the social media sites frequented by his followers and their unique culture when he promoted his material.

Passionate parodists

Whereas strategists valued parody as a marketing tool for original material, the second group of interviewees (nine individuals) was passionate about the genre itself. Passionate parodists were not indifferent to traffic or revenue (many were enthusiastic about the possibility of making money from doing something they loved), but these rewards were secondary to the immaterial benefits of parody production.

Passionate parodists described their YouTube channels as spaces for experimentation, creativity, and self-care. For many, parody provided a way to wind down after working hours. Some entered the field for therapeutic reasons. Clair created her first YouTube parody after a traumatic experience. She fell prey to a conman who pretended to be a director recruiting her as a lead actor and investor in his film. After losing US$15,000 and sinking into depression, the process of working on the video and the mild success it gained restored her sense of self-worth. Others entered the field in a moment of epiphany. Elinor, a stay-at-home mother from Texas whose parodic mission was to relate pop music to mothers’ daily experiences, recalls,

I kind of put a lot on hold during my twenties when I was having these babies and raising these kids. And when I hit 30, I really had a creative awakening. I just was like – I really felt like okay, now is my time. My time! I’m going to take more time for myself, and I’m going to explore these different parts of me.

Passionate parodists typically fit two different identity types that were quite distinct from the strategists’ branded self. The first, and more common type, was the community builder. Much like the strategic parodist, the community builder was highly mindful of audience characteristics. This perception, however, was not based on analytics but drawn from an organic familiarity with the audience, with whom the parodist typically shared a marginalized social identity. If the strategist cited statistics when asked about his or her audience, the community builder spelled out a mental image of a group of people whom he or she wished to address in meaningful ways. For example, Adam, an aspiring actor from California who created gay-themed parodies, expressed the following:

I know that they feel like outcasts in … like TV and everything. And online is the only place, really, where you can watch something that you can relate to and enjoy and have fun and not feel judged for watching it. And when I do these videos with them in mind, it’s like a reward.

A second group of passionate parodists confessed to having no audience in mind. Some were oblivious to input about audiences, and some ignored it because they felt that addressing their own preferences as hobbyists was their top priority. Others cultivated an ‘auteur’ identity, stressing that a reliance on audience analytics would compromise their art. For instance, Atlanta-based Donald admitted,

When I’m editing I’m thinking to myself: Does this shot look good to me? Is this line funny to me? So I guess I’m my audience and that might be a terrible way to approach things, especially from a business perspective, but it’s you know, as much as I really do want to make money doing this, this is really not my goal. If this were my goal, it would end up being a job that I would end up hating.

Although strategic and passionate positions were strongly linked with different styles of identity management, they were not aligned with specific racial or gendered identities. Women and non-Whites were evenly split between the strategic and passionate groups. Nevertheless, as the next section details, they experienced parody in different ways.

YouTube’s ‘frat culture’

In line with previous research about YouTube’s participation gap, White men heavily dominated music video parodies. Interviewees often invoked the embodied nature of video parody when they reflected on the scarcity of women and people of color in the field. In particular, many argued that parody is premised on an artist’s embrace of a silly and self-deprecating spirit toward physical appearance. Women and people of color, according to this rationale, were reluctant to participate in what several defined as ‘YouTube’s frat culture’ because they wanted to maintain an attractive image. Jason, an African-American YouTuber, believed that he benefited from being an exception to this rule:

Some black parodists won’t dress up like a female. They’re not going to put on a wig or act like somebody different ya know. They just want to make fun of the song while looking cool. It doesn’t really work like that […] You gotta be able to dress up for the event. You gotta be able to look like a fool if you need to.

As Jason suggests in his remarks, gender-bending was a salient mode of embodied playfulness in music video parodies. Silliness was also achieved by emphasizing physical imperfections. For example, Donald described how his heavy-built physique created a comic effect:

There’s always the woman showing off her body in some way or another, so yeah, I spoofed it. But it’s not because I wanted to make a strong political statement, I thought you know, it’s funny that this is what we see in music videos, and it’s going to be way funnier if you see a fat white guy doing it.

Jason and Donald’s statements echo Shifman’s (2011) notion of ‘flawed masculinity’. In her analysis of the most imitated videos on YouTube, Shifman found that most were performed by men who displayed appearances and/or behaviors that did not match contemporary standards of manliness. She argues that the popularity of unattractive, insecure, and effeminate men provides legitimacy to alternative conceptions of manhood, but that the comic undertones of these performances can also erode the boundaries between creating humor and being the butt of the joke.

The field did not present a comparable celebration of ‘flawed femininity’. Interviewees (male and female) took for granted that gender-bending and physical imperfections were intrinsically comic in male-led performances, but they did not perceive equivalent female led practices as funny. Although two of the six female parodists reported a benefit in diverging from behaviors traditionally associated with femininity (e.g. using vulgar language), others felt a pressure to adhere to social expectations about femininity. Theresa was frustrated by advice to emphasize her sexuality in performances. Clair argued that gender disparities in YouTube parodies derived from a broader double standard afflicted on female comedians who embraced a crass spirit:

coming into the parody world from stand-up there is no question in my mind, that I was coming into a white guy’s world […] smart male comedians can, they can play that fine line on the fence of doing shock value comedy that you know that slaps you in the face, and then ease that in with intellectual comments […] whereas if I go too dark too fast, or too gross too quick, you know, it’s like eeww, get her off

The expectation that music video parodies incorporate physical goofiness resulted in a gender divide. For women, it often reaffirmed social pressure to comply with expectations around femininity, thus limiting the possibility of experimentation. In contrast, subversive depictions of the male body were perceived as integral to the field’s culture.

The relationship between parody and ‘flawed masculinity’ was articulated implicitly in discussions about gender dynamics on YouTube. However, when asked to define the ideal parody, interviewees spelled out different foci.

The cultural object: defining the ideal parody

The differences in positions described in the previous two sections did not bear on practitioners’ evaluations of the field’s cultural object. Regardless of motivations or gender, interviewees repeatedly suggested two evaluative criteria for what makes a good parody: proximity-distance equilibrium and positivity.

Proximity-distance equilibrium

The proximity-distance equilibrium was suggested by 17 of the 22 interviewees. It describes the degree to which a music video parody maintains the verbal and visual integrity of the original while developing a unique standpoint. Great parodies, according to this view, manage to balance imitation with originality. Donald eloquently characterized it as the paradox of parody:

For me, that’s where the art is – finding the freedom of expression within the constraints of the form [….] It’s finding how to make your own lyrics, how to keep your idea, how to keep one solid through-line, while at the same time being completely constrained by the original parameters of the song. That’s where the real joy, and for me, the genius of parody writing is. It’s matching it up but being completely original at the same time. And it’s like the paradox almost.

This paradox resonates with long-standing scholarly discussions about parody as a genre marked by a tension between repetition and difference (Hariman, 2008; Hutcheon, 2000). Bart Baker, a famous producer of music video parodies on YouTube, creates videos that epitomize this coveted equilibrium. Figure 1 illustrates the aesthetic proximity he created in his rendition of Justin Bieber’s single Boyfriend. Baker’s clip reconstructed the original’s mise-en-scène, duplicating the video’s visual frames and its hip-hop urban aesthetic. He differentiated from Bieber’s performance by subverting its ultra-masculine lover theme. Baker’s parody constructs Bieber as effeminate, replacing, for instance, the original lyrics ‘If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go’ with ‘I’m a white Canadian that looks like a lesbo’.

Figure 1.

Justin Bieber’s Boyfriend music video (left) and Bart Baker’s rendition (right).

While the notion of equilibrium between proximity and distance was theoretically crucial to good parody, most of the interviewees focused their evaluations on proximity. They easily identified elements of repetition that made parody good, such as resemblance in rhyme structures, high production value, and a clear visual relationship with the original. Music videos are symbolically rich and fast-paced forms of expression in which the music industry invests ample resources. The desire to achieve formal proximity demonstrates the desire of amateurs to keep up with the standards set by YouTube’s professional contributors.

As for distancing, many interviewees stated that good parody develops a ‘clever’ or ‘witty’ stance in relation to the original. However, unlike their detailed examples of proximity mechanisms, many interviewees found it hard to pinpoint what clever distancing entails. Some left this notion vague. Others combined another common evaluative criterion, arguing that clever distancing involves the articulation of a positive message.

Positivity

Positivity was mentioned by 10 of the 22 interviewees. Good parody, per this standard, makes one ‘laugh with’ rather than ‘laugh at’. If the challenge in the proximity-distance equilibrium is to be imitative and original at the same time, positive mimicry presents a balance between creating humor without being offensive. Bart Baker is known not only for the high production value of his videos but mainly for the sardonic tone he uses toward the pop-artists he imitates. His name was frequently mentioned by interviewees in a disapproving manner for this reason.

The aversion to critique contradicts the traditional literary definition of parody as a form of textual commentary. Despite labeling their work as ‘parody’, almost half of the practitioners in this field seemed to value ‘pastiche’. The discourse around positivity was informed to a large extent by opposition to the notion of ‘hating’, a topic of intense debate on YouTube (Lange, 2007). One line of argument was that parody pays tribute to the text and honors its creator. As Adam remarked,

I think it’s honoring! Like I’m obsessed with Beyoncé. Why would I ever wanna make fun of her? I’m building a shrine to her by doing music video, like trying to copy her art.

Another form of reasoning against ‘hating’ stemmed from objections to broader dynamics of violent interactions online. Elinor created uplifting videos because she wanted to model respectful discourse to her children and audience. Some interviewees assessed that ‘hating on’ artists detracted from potential audience share. Valerie, a young animator who created gaming-themed parodies, stated,

If you are making fun of the original video then the audience that loved the original will get angry. If you’re using the original video in a more of a comedic but friendly way, the audience should have a nice laugh about it and move on.

Shifman (2013a) identified content, form, and stance as textual dimensions that may be subjected to parodic treatment. The YouTubers interviewed in this study focused mainly on the latter two, valuing form-fidelity and positive stance. The content dimension was absent from interviewee statements or elusively defined as part of the discussion of originality in the proximity-distance equilibrium. Only two interviewees mentioned the articulation of social commentary as a desired component in parody. None described commentary upon the ideas or ideologies of music videos as an evaluative criterion.

The focus on form and stance could be explained by the compatibility of these dimensions with both passionate and strategic positions in the field. For strategists, fidelity to the original’s form increased the familiarity of the text and its chances of attracting an audience, whereas positivity allowed poking fun without the risk of alienating an artist’s fan base. For passionate parodists, the tension between proximity and distance provided a foundation to practice creativity without the necessity of developing content from scratch, and positive content fit the aspiration to create community through parody.

Discussion

YouTubers’ perceptions about parody echo long-standing debates about the genre’s paradoxical position between repetition and difference, and between commentary and pastiche. Contrary to the expectations of field theory, evaluations of parody were similar across distinct positions in the field. This field’s convergence around shared values for the cultural object can be explained by its hybrid qualities. Specifically, the following points of tension illustrate how the practice of parody catered to contrasting worldviews.

Commercialism versus vernacular creativity

Parody production illustrates the intertwining forces used to characterize YouTube (Burgess and Green, 2009). In their uses of parody, strategic parodists were attuned to commercial forces, whereas passionate parodists demonstrated autonomous creativity. However, strategists developed original content, demonstrating an autonomous creative endeavor, whereas the work of passionate parodists drew almost completely on commercial music videos.

Individualism versus collectivism

Music video parodies were practiced mainly as an individual undertaking: they were used to advance careers, experiment with creativity, and gain self-efficacy. The most common evaluative criteria for parody – proximity-distance equilibrium – also reflected an individualistic approach as it focused on an artist’s display of craftsmanship and originality. However, the aspiration to form community, explicitly stated by several passionate parodists, was reflected in the value that both strategic and passionate parodists placed on positive mimicry. Unlike other types of user-generated content, the choice to produce parody signifies an inherent duality between individualism and collectivism. Shifman (2013b) described this duality as ‘networked individualism’: through mimicry users flag their uniqueness and personal creativity while simultaneously affiliating themselves with a common cultural object and with a broader YouTube community.

Hegemony versus subversion

While practitioners devoted little attention to the ideology of music videos in describing the mission of their renditions, a tension between hegemony and subversion was evident in the field’s participation structure. The dominance of White, male, US-based practitioners suggests a field that caters to the privileged. However, the ways with which individuals presented themselves vis-à-vis parody introduced ambiguity. The field celebrated men’s imperfections, but by flaunting flawed masculinity in a comic, self-deprecating manner, it simultaneously challenged and reinforced hegemonic masculinity. The field seemed less forgiving toward diversions from traditional conceptions of femininity but valued parodies underscored by positivity, a stance that is associated with female parody (Jenkins, 2006).

This study sheds light on broader debates about YouTube and participatory culture. First, it offers a nuanced understanding of participation on YouTube. The traditional division between ‘amateur’ and ‘professional’ is based in industrial logics and ignores the multifaceted uses of the platform that people make in their everyday lives (Burgess and Green, 2009). The identification of strategic and passionate uses of parody demonstrates a range of priorities and participation styles within ‘amateur’ ranks. In particular, the strategist – an upward aspiring amateur seeking a professional career in the creative industries – demonstrates the slippery line between these categories. The study also sheds light on the unstated norms that discourage many female users from participating in YouTube’s vernacular culture.

Second, this study suggests that YouTube is still animated by a tension between bottom-up and top-bottom forces. Cultural critics have lamented YouTube’s ‘fall from grace’, namely, a transition from a free-spirited sphere of cultural production to a commercial apparatus (Cunningham et al., 2016). Interviewees’ tendency to ignore the function of textual commentary suggests that parody was not perceived as a means to challenge mainstream culture. The prevalent use of parody as a marketing tool also suggests compliance with YouTube’s commercial apparatus. However, YouTube’s commercial logic did not negate the spirit of grassroots cultural production. For instance, despite their lack of objection to monetization, passionate parodists aligned with other aspects of the gift economy such as a pursuit of intellectual rewards, play, and community. The popularity of user-generated parody may derive from its versatile appeal to both commercial and playful aspirations.

Finally, this study contributes knowledge to participatory culture. Most of the research on this term has focused on fans or other groups with a shared cause. These communities, often dominated by females, represent ‘ideal readers’ due to their high levels of engagement and critical analyses of their beloved media texts (Gray, 2003). Across different styles within fan groups, parody seems to be focused on commenting on the original’s ideas. In contrast, the non-fan, predominantly male YouTubers interviewed, used parody as an object of personal value. As such, the genre could be utilized as a critical form of expression but also as a method of self-promotion, escapism, and utter play.

The conclusions of this study are limited by a focus on a small group of interviewees acting in a specific genre and platform. In particular, the notion of digital parody as a hybrid practice may reflect a Western use of this genre. Other contexts of cultural production might yield different practices. For example, individuals who create parodies in repressive digital environments may be motivated by different trajectories as they enter the field, manage their identity, and evaluate parody. In such contexts, social critique may indeed be a motivating factor in entering the field and evaluating its offering, and impression management may be shaped by a need to masquerade and disguise one’s identity. Future studies could explore how cultural context and structuring components such as censorship and government surveillance shape parody as a field of cultural production.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank Claudio Benzecry, Edith Boxman, Aymar Jean Christian, participants at Northwestern’s Culture Workshop and the journal’s editor and reviewers for their helpful comments on different versions of this article. A special thank you goes to the YouTubers who interviewed for this project.

Funding

This research was made possible by a Graduate Research Ignition Grant from The School of Communication at Northwestern University.

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