A Project of Unintended Success
Created by Trent Baker September 09, 2024, 15:30
Growing up alongside YouTube's growth and the rise of the independent star, I found the prospect of pouring passion into entertainment as one's career unfathomably exciting. YouTube became a hobby of mine for, as of 4 days ago (not to make a habit of celebrating arbitrary anniversaries with blog posts), 14 years. As I matured, creating videos became more about creating and sharing with friends than that excitement of being seen and discovered. On Halloween of 2022, I uploaded a fun video I made with a handful of friends parodying one of my favourite creators, educational YouTuber Tom Scott. I uploaded this video publicly to YouTube primarily to share with friends who did not use Instagram, where I first posted it. For this project, the YouTube recommendation algorithm had bigger ideas.
I do not consider myself a YouTuber. I suspect I never will. But on one fateful day without any opportunity to object, the higher beings of machine learning recommendations chose my channel's meager content as flavour of the week. The heights this video reached are minute in the grand YouTube landscape, but the accidental attention it gained makes all my other projects combined pale in comparison- it was by all means virality, sitting today at close to 300,000 views. There was no effort on my part in making it happen, and frankly it was in some ways unwanted. This is a reflection on the spectacle I got to witness as a work I had little intention for the world to see spiraled out of control.
The Video
Tom Scott introducing places but I made them all up is a simple comedy video compiling clips of me dressed up as YouTube educator Tom Scott, recorded by my then-roommate Andrew, joined by a couple others, as we aimlessly walked around the Halifax downtown while doing a poor British accent pointing out landmarks. The video came to be with simple intentions. Scott is a creator known for his well-researched videos showcasing interesting locations and concepts across the Earth. Sometime early in the year, I had the idea to make a parody of his content dressing up and talking about the notorious "Marine Venus" statue on display of the Dalhousie University campus. When I discussed the idea with some peers, one friend offered the idea of instead parodying the well-known compilation Tom Scott introducing places (extended). A few weeks and one overpriced Halloween store wig later, filming began.
There is plenty that I have grown to dislike about this video. On top of editing nitpicks, its entire existence is irksome. Through word of mouth I learned that Scott is not fond of parodies. In his work, he represents himself by no pseudonym or caricature; it is entirely reasonable for one in his position to dislike what could essentially be commentary on his own character. No matter how well-meaning or inspired a work may be, and I attest that this work comes from a place of love and is driven by its own humor, that is the cruel reality of parody. Regrets cast aside, Tom Scott introducing places but I made them all up succeeded in its unexpected mission to bring joy to fans of Scott's work.
From Creation to Momentum
The footage for the video was captured over 2 days in a fresh autumn chill. After one night of editing, the video was uploaded on Halloween day just as planned- an apt way to celebrate a holiday themed around adopting alternate personas. First to my private Instagram, then to YouTube for sharing with friends. I had posted plenty of videos before this one, but within the first day, something was obviously different. At this point in time the highest view count of a video I published to my passive-minded hobbyist channel was about 2,000.

Within 3 days, the video became the most viewed on my channel. Within 5, it had reached 7,000 views. The next day, that number doubled, and I was granted access to the mythical YouTube Studio video analytics. Looking at the graphs this tool provided would yield me lots of entertainment over the next week.

In a Discord DM soliloquy, I shared the fascinating insights I discovered with my roommate as I discovered them, unknowing that the growth was far from finished.


The growth continued. In short order 14,000 views would become a six-figure number. YouTube Studio allowed an insightful perspective of being able to see traffic sources in real time, bringing understanding to the interconnected nature of the great social network.



With all these tools, I was beginning to understand that the fabled 100,000 views may just happen. It was totally absurd to think possible, that a project I had no expectations for could just blow up as it was. Even reflecting today I struggle to comprehend the numbers involved, and the fact that this upload's success was at the mere whimsy of a black-box algorithm designed to feed people content.

As the reality of the video's growth became apparent, I found myself taking unexpected actions in response. Having interest in a future career in entertaining creative works, I attempted to capitalize on the unexpected traction by quickly making a devlog for a larger (since abandoned) game project to capture a trickle of audience. Other actions I took in response to the video's rise included changing my YouTube profile picture for the first time since the channel's birth in 2010, and adding custom subtitles.



Writing this post I am surprised as to how much of an impression some comments left on me. This all happened nearly 2 years ago, yet I even recall the exact wording of some of the kind and humorous words these strangers left for the video's creators.

And so went the first viral burst of viewership that solidified Tom Scott introducing places but I made them all up as my most known project. Beyond my obsessive analytics watching, I received messages from friends from every corner of my life, commenting on how YouTube recommended the video to them or how some else they knew shared the video. It went wide and far, and was a sight to behold. This initial wave of views it received was so impressive and exciting that when a second wave gave way nearly a year later, it was almost believable.

The Mark We Leave
These numbers are still difficult for me to grasp. It spread so far and wide that people from forgotten corners of my life were seeing the video unprompted, recognizing me, and reaching out to personally comment. What a bizarre feeling it was, knowing that, in all honesty, it wasn't a project I cared to see any success at all.
Let's take a look at the video's contributions to my now 14 year-old YouTube channel's legacy:

The nature of this virality is finally visible. Across 37 videos spanning 14 years, all my previous and possibly future work pale in comparison to this algorithmically favourable comedy sketch. How should I feel knowing that my other works, some which demanded far more effort and mean far more to me, have become invisible?
Aside from the choice of what works to create, the individual has little control over what works they are known for. That little control becomes none when those works are posted to algorithmically-driven platforms. After having my own project see meager virality, I had a mild moment of panic wondering if this was it. Is this my great work? My mark on the world? This thing that I collaborated to create equated to thousands of engagement hours across tens of thousands of people, but that was never my wish. I have no interest in pursuing a YouTube career let alone a sketch comedy one, why couldn't a project that I spent far more time preparing for and working on like any of my game projects see this thunderous debut instead?
As I hear it from more and more mouths, a mantra that I have begun to believe in is that nobody chooses how they are remembered. No creator chooses which of their works take off, which of their works leave a lasting impression on its audience. In conjunction with this mantra is the thought that that is okay. Maybe a mediocre Tom Scott parody with a modestly viral view count truly is the peak of my creative career. Maybe that isn't such a bad thing.
It may not be my ultimatum, it may not represent everything I'm capable of or want to share with the world, but Tom Scott introducing places but I made them all up was its own astounding success. It's a product of friendship and shenanigans, it's a fantastic memory, and it brought some positivity to more people than I have the capacity to imagine, even if only for a minute. I think all creatives can relate to this fear of not being able to choose what one is remembered for. I will continue to strive for more, but after experiencing a burst of attention on a project I felt unimportant I have to say: There is no better feeling than knowing you've touched the lives of other people in a positive way. Whether it happened because I intended it to or by total accident and in ways I never expected, it simply feels good that it did.
And that is something to keep striving for.