In 2003, the Canadian band Simple Plan released a song called ‘Perfect’, which features the deliciously emo lyrics “I’m sorry I can’t be perfect”.
This line sounds incredibly dramatic. Yet, the idea behind it, of having someone with high expectations and not meeting them, is a very real theme within the unusually long-lasting ‘vlogpology’ (video blog apology) digital genre. Which began around 2016. Vlogpologies have been described as something “any big YouTube creator must have in their personal content library”.
There are a plethora of reasons for issuing a vlogpology. They can be as innocent as the overscheduled teenager who uploaded their vlog a day later than expected or a gamer who talked over his friends in excitement. Or in the realm of criminal activities, such as doxing.
These apology videos often go viral, receiving millions more views than any of the vlogger’s previous content. They’re usually subjected to parody and criticism across social media. They also tend to receive mainstream coverage from larger content producers such as The New York Times, CNN, Saturday Night Live and so forth. In this coverage, vloggers tend to be accused of “only apologising because they’re being forced to do so”.
But the thing is, in many cases, that’s exactly what they’re doing. They cannot strategise for weeks/months with their PR team to deliver a tailored statement via a tweet, as celebrities can. Nor can they take a break from the internet or ignore it. Vloggers must address the controversy as soon as possible, or risk losing millions of their followers and damaging their reputation.
Because vloggers give their viewers such an intimate view of their lives through their mass of content, the audience often becomes enmeshed in a parasocial relationship. Even if a vlogger plays up their hobby on their channel, for instance, only vlogging about Lego-related activities, they will inevitably let personal details slip. A vlogger is a brand as well as a person, you can’t criticise one without critiquing the other.
As a subscriber, watching your ‘friend’ make a mistake can cause feelings of betrayal or empathy, depending on myriad factors; including how well their vlogpology goes. For outsiders watching the viral video, it can look like another funny internet disaster, akin to the addictive cringe-inducing reality television diary confessionals.
Some have suggested that vloggers have a shared script for their apologies. Yet, as the vlogpology tends to be filmed in one take, it is unlikely they have copied and memorised a lengthy speech. However, they do share some features. For instance, they often follow ‘sorry’ with ‘if’ or ‘but’, which is said to negate the apologetic sentiment. Although, that could be an unconscious measure of self-soothing in the midst of a crisis.
They also rarely use text or graphics in their vlogpology thumbnails. Instead, they often choose a simple screenshot from their video or stage a photo that looks like a moment from the apology. Perhaps this apparent lack of design stemmed from a desire to detract viewership. Yet, when found amongst the vivid thumbnails that make up the YouTube homepage, search results, and the creator’s own previous content library – they become intriguing through contrast.
Patterns like these suggest the vloggers look at each other’s work, to see what is successful and what they should avoid. This may be where the proposed ‘sameness’ across vlogpologies comes from. Having spent the last year crafting a 55,000-word thesis on the topic, I can say with confidence that I did not encounter any identical vlogpologies within the genre (visually, verbally, or in their organisational structure). The similarities are simply the common or salient features that serve genre-specific purposes.
Something I think that is worth mentioning when considering this topic is that there must be a difference between an apology that you organically decide you want to give, and an apology that you’re told you have to make while incredibly distressed. I’m not suggesting accountability should be skipped, but the current method is in need of review.
Oh, and if you were wondering about the grade, it was an A. Naturally, my friends and family spent months consistently asking when I’d get the grade back, then chanting ‘of course, you’ll get an A!’ every time I insisted a B or C would still make me proud. Now their regular bit is ‘not an A+?!’. Which is cutesy, but I’m not perfect, and I don’t have to be their idea of perfect; nor should anyone else.
