This is What the Internet Does to People

AlanTutorial and the Price of Fame on the World Wide Web

Anyone can get famous now.

Perhaps that sounds like an overstatement, but I feel as if the creation of apps like TikTok have made mainstream success much easier for the average Joe.

Well—scratch that—maybe I shouldn’t say “mainstream,” considering I don’t know who half of the influencers are anymore.

Which isn’t a flex, it’s simply an observation about how many influencers exist now. It is practically impossible to keep up with every single person, never mind the new celebrities they’ve been inventing recently (that Sombr guy was invented last week or something, I don’t know I can’t keep up with anything anymore time is an illusion).

To be fair, influencers existed before TikTok. Instagram influencers, YouTubers, and Viners were all popular long before the now-famous short-form content app launched. However, it did seem a little bit more difficult to build a following on those platforms.

It would be silly to not mention how easy it is to gain traction on TikTok. One video can garner millions of views within a few days, spreading like wildfire. The 15 minutes of fame is more like 15 seconds nowadays.

But back in 2011, things weren’t as easy. That’s where the YouTube channel alantutorial comes in.

Many of you have probably seen the now famous “how to crush a can of dr. pepper with slats of wood” video, which went viral after it was shared around on various websites. It was seen as a “get a load of this guy” type of thing, especially with how the man recording the video seeming to have developmental challenges in some way.

Most people watched the video, had a quick laugh, and moved on. There wasn’t any incentive to go to Alan’s YouTube channel and see what else the guy was up to… but some people, maybe out of pure curiosity because they were wondering why the hell a guy would drill into a soda can, decided to dig deeper.

What most people found isn’t something anybody could have predicted.

Starting Out

Alan started posting tutorial videos on YouTube in 2011. His first few videos were far from suspicious; they seemed to be fairly similar in their content, with Alan creating how-to videos about the mundane.

However, Alan’s videos weren’t exactly useful to most people. His tutorials were more like a child making something up on the fly rather than actual useful instructions, seemingly copying other popular content he had seen on the website.

As Alan’s videos went on, it was clear something was wrong. Alan is very childlike—made obvious by his hijinks and conversational tone.

But what’s wrong isn’t Alan himself, but rather the environment he’s in. Somehow, he gets a hold of power tools, electrical equipment, and other items he shouldn’t have access to. It’s especially concerning when one video shows him carelessly using a milter saw. Yet in all of these videos, it seems as if Alan is having fun… to some extent.

Alan has caretakers—his brother and his brother’s girlfriend—but they’re neglectful of his living conditions, as seen by his various power tool tutorials. For the most part, Alan is alone, and his silly videos are what’s helping him cope with everything around him.

It isn’t until the Alan posts about the “blue chair” that we realize what exactly happened to put him in the environment: his mother (the blue chair) died of some kind of medical emergency, as evident by how Alan acts when it falls down.

So, what’s the run down?

Alan feels trapped and alone, so he starts making YouTube tutorials to feel a sense of worth. By creating these videos, he feels as if there’s a group of people cheering him on; he feels wanted.

Although he enjoys creating these videos, suddenly he feels lost in creating the “next big thing,” making sure each new tutorial is better than the last. The more he leans into these “fantastical” tutorials, the more Alan begins to hurt himself. In his tutorial titled “Air Conditioner (AC) installation tutorial, proper,” Alan is seen bleeding—he is literally injuring himself from trying to recreate the fame he seen from his infamous soda can video.

And haven’t we seen this all before? Perhaps more evident on TikTok—how many accounts have we seen so desperately try to recreate the 15-minutes-of-fame? The dry and unfortunate attempts, only to be left in the void of the internet.

While we can laugh at it in some regard, it becomes a lot more tragic when we see more cases like Alan—typically labeled lolcows—being used at entertainment. Don’t get me wrong, many of these individuals are horrid human beings: racist, predatory, animal abusers, or all three. But some of these people are simply mentally disabled and don’t necessarily know that they’re being trolled, thus being pulled into a cycle of internet harassment.

I will say, that’s sort of a diamond in the rust; most of these people aren’t exactly standup individuals. Maybe one of the best examples being Amberlynn Reid, who I’m sure you’ve seen a clip of before at least once if you’re as chronically online as me. (Cue the “they gave me the wrong SANDWICH” video.)

Still, these are people that AlanTutorial is meant to parody and critique, showcasing the dangers of what being on a public platform can do to someone.

In Alan’s case, we learn that he has a form of autism. While, yes, in some instances it’s an exaggeration of the disorder, it’s clear to the audience that Alan is just an innocent pawn in the overarching abyss of the internet.

The Beginning to the End

At some point, Alan is locked out of his room. His brother, sick of Alan tearing apart the house, essentially kicks him out.

By “kicks him out,” I mean he literally barricades the window, keeping Alan from even attempting to come back inside.

Alan becomes homeless, scavenging the streets for any kind of food he can find, all while he continues filming and uploading his “tutorials.” Yet, these videos only get stranger the more he uploads, each one becoming more unhinged than the last as Alan struggles to hold onto his sanity.

Soon, Alan is seen in the woods, acting almost feral as he runs around trying to find things to do for his videos.

It’s quite obvious this is meant to be the point where he’s beginning to spiral—when, despite no matter how hard you try, your content just won’t quite get the same virality it once did. Or perhaps it’s that you want to please your audience so badly, you keep doing the same thing over and over again.

For Alan, he’s clinging onto the only thing he has left. The videos remain his only outlet to express himself. It isn’t that he’s grasping for fame, but rather that he’s reaching out for somebody to recognize he needs help. And yet, nobody seems to notice—or care—that he’s all alone in the woods making nonsensical tutorials.

And then, out of nowhere, Alan is saved.

Or is he?

This Isn’t an Exit

We see Alan in a small room. He’s clean, in a hospital gown, and seemingly in what feels like some sort of test environment. It feels as if he’s become a human experiment, being told he must continue to create tutorials to stay.

Alan agrees for some time—at least until he gets fed up with being forced to make tutorials. No longer does he feel joy or comfort from what was once his creative outlet. Instead, he’s stressed from constantly having to crank out new content.

And, because he feels as if there’s no real incentive to keep going, he tries to change his content. No longer does Alan wish to make tutorials, but rather the news. For a few videos, he keeps it up, acting as if he’s running a “news channel.” It isn’t until he’s given supplies to do a sort of volcano experiment that he does a news/tutorial hybrid, before finally returning back to tutorials altogether.

But the only reason he decides to continue making them is because he gets a dollar for every new tutorial. Now, he finally has an incentive. He’s getting the fruits of his labor.

All of this is to say: Alan is back at cranking out tutorials. Now, he has an audience, money, and a reason to create.

And while this may seem all fine and dandy, it’s obvious that Alan is spiraling again, focusing on the wrong things. In a Google Hangout, we see Alan hanging from the door with his “dollar man” surrounded by bottles of piss like some sort of ritual.

This is the point of the series where it truly feels like a critique of internet culture.

People start out creating content for fun or for an outlet. They gain an audience, go viral, and suddenly they need to chase the high again. In Alan’s case, I can even argue how it feels reminiscent of the old-school Multi-Channel Networks that many YouTubers fell victim to when trying to monetize.

It is a never-ending cycle of greed and the human need for socialization. It’s even more tragic with Alan’s case, considering the loneliness of his situation.

But is this really that bad?

Sure, it sounds like a case of burnout and unrequited validation, but what else? What makes this an issue, really?

Is This Escape?

The last videos on Alan’s channel feel like a fever-dream, with a disgusting hoarder-like room filled with filth. It’s dark, eerie, and in the distance, you can see what looks like human legs rotating like a rotisserie chicken at the Walmart deli.

It’s the culmination of everything Alan has been suffering through. From the heart ache of his family to the cycle of content farming, Alan is forced to live in the filth that was created from a rotten atmosphere.

Black sludge clings to him, and the only thing Alan can do is escape. There is no other option.

In his last video, Alan is able to break through the walls and find freedom. But it pains me to know if that’s what it truly is.

Alan escaped the internet and what it had done to him, but what else is there for him? Does he go back to being homeless? Does he go to the police for help? Where does he go from here?

Perhaps that doesn’t matter. In my head, Alan escaped and is finally free from the pain he was forced into. Maybe he’s frolicking in the meadow, surrounded by dragonflies and butterflies, at peace with the world around him.

On the other hand, this feels strikingly similar to other creators who have gone dark after feeling like the internet became too much. Jenna Marbles feels like the most obvious example, considering she was a beloved YouTuber before she decided to leave for good in 2020. It was her own choice, made after realizing that her old, controversial content hadn’t aged well.

Yet nowadays, I feel like this level of self-awareness has disappeared. TikTok beggars plague the platform without shame, the NPC livestream trend became a thing, and let’s not forget the countless idiotic challenges born from people desperate for a viral moment.

It’s rare now to see people simply leave. Maybe that’s because the pandemic changed people’s brains, with so many glued to the screen to gain some sense of normalcy during a time of isolation. For many, leaving the internet feels impossible.

So, what is Alan’s story to us?

It’s a cautionary tale. One to remind us of what the internet does to people, how it twists us into doing things we aren’t equipped for. It’s a warning to those chasing numbers instead of joy.

Do what you love, and forget the rest.

Here’s to you, Alan.