The Collapse Of Creativity
Or The Death of Creativity.
I kind of had fun with cooking the title.
Sound a bit ominous, don’t they? Which of these have you feeling the most concerned?
Shawn Layden, the former head of PlayStation, recently spoke out about a massive problem facing the gaming industry. He calls it the “collapse of creativity.” He points to a couple of big factors: studios merging and the sky-high costs of developing games and declining of new IPs.
The result?
Publishers are leaning on what they already know works instead of taking chances on fresh ideas. He further argues that, rather than just making games that are fun and engaging, companies are more interested in getting their players to spend more.
And it’s not just the gaming world.
Films also feel increasingly formulaic. They often relying on sequels or proven franchises instead of exploring original stories. TV series also follow similar patterns.
This preference for the safe and familiar is spreading across creative industries. We see creators frequently sideline risk-taking and boundary-pushing in favor of content that can reliably generate revenue.
Some studies suggest that creativity has been on a slow decline for centuries. Yeah, centuries. There’s a view that modern life, with all its tech and the constant push to “keep up” might actually hold back our creative sides.
Never before in history have we had such calls to unplug, take a breather, and make space for new ideas to come through.
But some, like sociologist Oli Mould, have a different take. He believes capitalism has hijacked that creativity. Capitalism has turned into just another way to make a profit. What used to be a raw, genuine human drive to make something meaningful has, he argues, has been twisted to fit into a system that values economic gain over true expression. He said that when we treat creativity as just another skill to be exploited, it feels more like a private resource than something that belongs to everyone.
And maybe that’s part of why we feel it’s slipping away.
I don’t know if I fully agree with him, but there is that angst of loosing creativity that I share with his thesis.
Is this collapse of creativity really a problem? Where does it come from? And what is happening to something we all hold dearly human to us?
The Economics Of Attention
Social media platforms thrive on attention. Artists who use these platforms are competing in a game of instant recognition. Here, “going viral” is king. But that drive for mass appeal often narrows the range of what’s deemed “acceptable” or “desirable” art.
Creators who want to gain visibility end up leaning into trends rather than taking the risks that might lead to something truly original.
The result?
A wave of content that may look engaging at a glance but lacks the depth of ideas forged outside an algorithm’s influence. This shift is influencing whole creative movements. When artists tweak their work to satisfy algorithms, it moves the industry toward repetition rather than exploration. It rewards works that appeal to the widest audience rather than those that push boundaries.
One of the most potent effects of social media is the allure of instant feedback. Likes, shares, and comments offer immediate validation, which is wildly addictive. I know as I struggle to curb my habits checking my own Medium stats!
Social media platforms also pressure artists to post frequently to keep their audience engaged. Now this turns creativity into a chore. For some, this consistency doesn’t leave room for the essential quiet moments that creativity requires. Such moments include reflection, exploration, and playing with new ideas.
Constant production without downtime leads to burnout and, eventually, rushed or uninspired work.
Research on creativity confirms that rest, boredom, and downtime are essential for breakthroughs. But social media denies creators the chance to slow down due to its currency of consistency. It’s no surprise, then, that some artists find themselves drained and ultimately leave.
Finally, there’s the mental strain of constant public feedback. On social media, every post is an opportunity for every single human reaction. For creators, this could lead to a kind of self-censorship. This is where they start to avoid anything that might not go over well with their audience. It’s easy to imply how this could limit creativity.
As a wannabe author and filmmaker myself, I find myself wrestling with the paradox. Daily. Social media is a double-edged sword. It offers both a path to visibility and is a minefield of creative compromise.
I feel damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
As it is a choice, after all.
Commodifying It
The arts are especially vulnerable to economic pressures. More often than not, here financial risks often dictate creative choices. Industries like gaming and film exemplify this. Faced with astronomical production costs, studios gravitate toward “safe” ideas, rehashing familiar formulas instead of investing in untested projects.
It’s a cycle that reinforces itself: when profit takes precedence, the industry naturally leans on the predictable. This concept of recycling is something I echoed in an earlier article and how I think it is a problem.
These safe formulas limit the potential for original ideas to emerge. By sticking to what’s been commercially successful, companies not only dampen the chance for creative breakthroughs but also cultivate an environment of “the usual.”
When the primary goal of creative industries becomes maximizing profit, artistry will take a backseat. This focus on monetization overshadows the creation of unique experiences. It replaces them with content optimized for sales rather than substance.
For example, the film industry prioritizes blockbuster franchises over smaller, riskier projects. Similarly, in the world of literature, publishers are more likely to invest in “safe” genres or established authors, leaving little room for unknown voices or unorthodox narratives.
And I hate to say it, but I kind of understand why. It is a business. And a lot of them are struggling as of late.
This drive for profitability shapes not only what gets made but also the choices for the audience. Companies craft most products carefully to ensure a financial return. And while profitability is a necessary part of sustaining the arts, this is a difficult needle to thread.
Creative works are commodified for practical reasons that also come with benefits. Art costs money to produce, and creators need ways to support themselves. In fact, is costs as astronomical amount to produce works. In this sense, commodification often ensure artists can continue their work and reach audiences who appreciate it.
This is a good feedback loop. Make good stuff, make a good return on investment to make more good stuff. But there is a point where this feedback loop morphs into a “death of creativity.”
I can’t help but feel the weight of this reality, especially in industries like writing and film. Two industries I want to take a shot in. I do realise that fear is such a powerful motivator, and it's not only me that is scared.
In my journey as a creator, I see how the drive for profitability not only shapes what gets made, but also influences what the audience experiences. The relentless focus on maximizing profit overshadows the artistry behind the work.
And I understand the reason for that.
So, Is The Collapse Of Creativity Really That Big Of A Problem?
Creativity has long been one of humanity’s defining qualities central to how we connect, evolve, and understand ourselves.
There are indeed many voices expressing concerns about a “collapse of creativity,” particularly in industries like the arts.
And the angst is felt by me, someone who wants to thrive in these creative industries.
Ultimately, the future of creativity depends on my ability to balance.
The “collapse of creativity” may not be as ominous as it sounds, but it does signal a crucial moment in our history.
And it should be recorded.
