Seven Reasons Listicles Didn’t Suck, Actually (And One Of Them May Surprise You)
“The human animal is distinguished from small primates by its passion for top ten lists.” —H. Allen Smith.
The listicle – this essential element of digital journalism in the 2010s – has often been vilified, particularly by other journalists. The format has been decried as lazy, by publishers and consumers alike, in an age of increasingly short attention spans; as a killer of “real journalism” and as a “pseudo-journalism that has become a drain on our collective intelligence”; as emblematic of an era defined by vacuous, money-hungry clickbait. In 2017, Lake Superior State University in Michigan proposed banning the term “listicle” itself, as part of an annual “List of Words Banned from Queen’s English for Misuse, Overuse, and General Uselessness.” (The irony was not lost on the authors.) The Oxford English Dictionary notes that the use of the word is still “frequently” derogatory.”
These days, listicles seem like a relic from another online era – one of spirited social virality and hunting at scale; from BuzzFeed (perhaps the pioneer of the listicle) and Upworthy – which has been replaced by today’s fractured network. They’re often remembered not as journalism, or even good content, but as trash, designed to trick users into clicking a link while scrolling through Facebook (which is what young people used to do), staying on the page as long as possible, and preferably sharing it with family and friends. (Concepts adjacent to lists included “listflation,” or the idea of expanding lists to ever-greater numbers of items, and “demolisticle,” content aimed at a niche audience—Berkeley graduates, for example, or children of Irish parents—but ready to be shared among communities that considered themselves represented.) In my opinion, however, lists deserve to be remembered more favorably—and perhaps are not dead yet. Here are seven reasons why, of course.
1. We’ve always loved lists…
It is difficult to say when the concept of “listicle” originated. The OED dates the first use of the word to 2007, citing the confusing tweet: “Making poke chops and smack’n’wheeze, writing lists.” » But the idea of doing lists is undoubtedly as old as writing itself. The Ten Commandments were cited as one of the first lists, as were Martin Luther’s Theses (or “95 Complaints That Have So Shaken the Catholic Church Right Now”) and the Bill of Rights. 19th-century newspapers published viral lists (of sorts); in 1977, a “Book of Lists” was a bestseller. In 2009, Umberto Eco helped organize an exhibition on the theme of the list at the Louvre. “The list does not destroy culture; she creates it,” he said. Lists have “an irresistible magic.”
2. …and clickbait is as old as time:
If the list is as old as writing, then sensationalism is about as old as newspapers: early periodicals in 17th-century England focused on slanderous tales and astrology; In the United States, at the turn of the 20th century, the “yellow press” ran headlines about the war with Spain or life on Mars. And while listicles and other forms of clickbait seem like a peculiar phenomenon of the 2010s, today the internet is full of even more bullshit. In 2013, BuzzFeed, in partnership with Pepsi Next, launched a “ListiClock,” offering a unique combination of lists for every second of the day. When I recently clicked on a link to the clock, I was redirected to a gambling website with the very relevant URL “trashfamily.com”.
3. The lists weren’t necessarily stupid:
It could be argued that while lists have a venerable history, lists it was something else. A BuzzFeed staffer once applied such a distinction only to listings on that site; Lists were “the lowest version of the art form” and “literally an arbitrary grouping of things,” he said, while lists told more of a story. (“109 Cats in Sweaters”? Listicle. “54 Reasons Why You Should Compete in a Dog Surfing Competition Before You Die”? List.) According to this interpretation, some observers might conclude that the listulas were definition the dregs of the list format, and anchored in a very specific period of time. But etymologically, the word “listicle” only refers to a list presented in the form of articles – hardly a 2010s invention. And some lists referenced in the 1977 “Book of Lists” already had very 2010s titles (“The 9 Dog Breeds That Bite the Most”; “20 Celebrities Who Have Been Psychoanalyzed.”) Ultimately, the list is a broad genre – and like any genre, there have been better and worse examples. “Listings are like the weather: They will happen no matter what,” Emily Temple wrote for LitHub in 2018. “They will be good or bad; people will disagree on whether they are good or bad. »
4. Listicles weren’t In fact as much maligned as you remember:
Lots of people did hate lists. But going back to the 2010s for this article, I found many earlier defenses or open-minded meditations. on — the format, such right-thinking places like The Atlantic, Wired and Slate. (Yes, at least one of them was also written in listicle form.) In 2015, writers at the New York Times defended listicles on at least two separate occasions, although, in one case, as a form of “candy bar” journalism that should only be consumed in moderation alongside more serious fare. Others thought the lists themselves might be serious. In 2012, Farhad Manjoo wrote that a BuzzFeed The list titled “25 Photos of Mitt Romney Looking Perfectly Normal” was “the most compelling political art” he had seen in a while, and suggested it was worthy of the Pulitzer.
5. Looking for structure is a good thing in a world of information overload…
“In a busy and turbulent time, a simple list is easy to read, digest and remember. » This line also comes from the 1977 “Book of Lists” – a reminder that our era is not the first crushing era. Indeed, journalism has always been an exercise in helping people digest a complicated world. (Journalism isn’t alone in this either: Eco once asked, “What does culture want? To make the infinite understandable” and “to create order.”) Lists help us process new information; on a fundamental level, our brains benefit. Of course, there can be downsides to presenting news in list form: breaking down details can imply that they are just as important even if they aren’t; life is, inevitably, more complex and messier than any list can imagine. But these are, ultimately, the pitfalls of any type of journalism.
6. …and we are always looking for a structure today:
The 2010s style list might seem like it’s gone the way of the dodo. Today, large-scale, ad-supported media has fallen out of fashion as more and more publishers seek direct, paid relationships with readers; we are now in the age of the email newsletter, delivered straight to the reader’s inbox, and the three-hour podcast, often defined by a stream-of-consciousness rambling style that seems at odds with the brisk rigor of the list. However, upon closer inspection, the basic DNA of the listicle is still around us. The Times frequently publishes articles presenting, for example, five key takeaways from major news events or investigations; News sites like Axios and Semafor, with their “Smart Brevity” and “Semaform” styles, don’t offer lists per se, but break stories down into digestible, signposted chunks. Newsletters – those that offer at least current affairs guides – often take the form of lists. (Oh, and the pet news site from the 2010s, The Dodo, is still publishing. On its homepage when I last checked: “8 Dog Brushes Perfect for Short-Haired Puppies.”)
7. One that might surprise you:
I worked as an editor at BuzzFeed in 2017 and I could swear I was told that lists should have an odd number of items to perform better online. While researching this article, I came across many listings with even number of items, including those from BuzzFeed; the same staff member who differentiated between lists and listicles once described the idea that odd numbers were more effective as a “superstition”. However, the rules remain the rules. It is also, apparently, a rule that a listicle on listicles must end with a self-referential jokey element that constitutes the numbers. So there you have it.
