Twitch’s Culture Problem, from a Longtime Twitch Viewer

The relationship between a Twitch streamer and their chatters (those who engage via chat) is one of the most basic forms of human interaction. A Twitch streamer says something, and then hundreds, if not thousands, of loyal chatters spam the same rotation of emotes, small images viewers use to react, in response. Emotions are conveyed through silly but meaningful images such as LULW, CatJAM, and Prayge. At a certain point, Twitch chat begins speaking a language entirely its own - one that’s virtually impossible for anyone outside of the Twitch space, or even those who don’t have the 7TV mod that enables additional emotes, to understand. 

For those uninitiated, the platform Twitch and streaming in general became especially popular in 2020 because of the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown. A ‘Twitch stream’ is an interactive live broadcast that is generally more informal than a TV show and unplanned. The platform’s long-form content, usually at least three to four hours long, was perfect for a nation glued to our screens. At its inception, Twitch was a popular way for gamers to watch expert gameplay and come up with strategies for their own gaming. As it rose in popularity, the streaming space became broader and the amount of content translated into five- to six-hour streams and even subathons, in which the streamer streams for 24 hours a day until the “timer” (extendable via user subscriptions) runs out. Now, beyond gaming, many of the most popular streamers react to content, provide political commentary, compete in IRL (in real life) challenges, collaborate with other streamers and with celebrities, organize events, and share daily life.

Whether collaborating with celebrities like Kai Cenat or carving out a niche like QTCinderella’s cooking streams, the oversaturation of content means that successful streamers need to find a way to stand out. Many try to go viral by “clipfarming,” which is doing or saying something outrageous for shock value. The most popular streamers are loud, funny, and overwhelmingly male. Their audiences consist primarily of young adults and teen boys. As a staunchly liberal queer Jewish girl, I don’t fit the mold of a Twitch viewer. 

I’ve been exploring the streaming space for over five years. In the past couple of years, I’ve grown increasingly uncomfortable as a chatter and a passive viewer. Even while watching or searching for female, left-wing streamers, I inevitably stumble upon politically reactionary content and streamers who integrate political jabs into otherwise regular streams. Some of the most creative streams end up with a political bent. 

For example, this summer, wildly popular streamer iShowSpeed went on a tour of Africa, in which he went to 20 countries in 28 days and live-streamed in each country. By exposing his largely American male audience to African culture, he helped dismantle harmful stereotypes around Africa. I tuned in to watch him go shark diving in Nigeria, receive a traditional name in Ghana, and go dancing in the Ivory Coast. I excitedly watched and supported him like thousands of other viewers until I saw a clip on TikTok of his interaction with drag queen Kori King. He appeared disgusted and anxious the entire time he was interacting with her, and he ended up leaving early from the cabaret drag show his team signed him up for. 

On Twitch, this type of content is typical. Educational content that exposes people to new cultures often includes messaging portraying queerness as abnormal. Further, some of iShowSpeed’s other content includes openly hitting on women or making them uncomfortable in public for the entertainment of his viewers. This exemplifies how many of the most popular creators on the platform are still not fully on board with Trans people and queer culture in general. Consequently, they are chasing people like me out of the virtual conversation and off of the platform entirely, leaving behind a male-dominated breeding ground for racism, homophobia, and sexism.

I don’t often see outright bigoted content on my feed, but the exclusiveness of Twitch means that my favorite streamers collaborate with people whose followers might call me a slur. Even by viewing communal events, such as the Streamer Awards, I am exposed to sexism and homophobia that I didn’t seek out. For example, when meeting a lesbian couple for the first time at the Streamer Awards, 17-year-old streamer Rakai asked them: “Would you have a threesome with a n****?” Besides being insensitive and making the couple feel uncomfortable, Rakai had at least a thousand live viewers egging him on. Almost immediately, this clip was disseminated all over the internet. I don’t care about Rakai’s political opinions. It’s the thousands of young men agreeing with him that makes me uncomfortable. 

Homophobia goes viral. Immature people are given a huge audience and monetarily incentivized to get edgier and edgier to shock their audience into engagement. There’s no button to opt out of homophobia, antisemitism, and misogyny on Twitch. The platform relies on the streamers to create their culture, which makes it unsafe for people like me, who don’t fit into the stereotype of a typical viewer. 

At a certain point, streamers have little control over the community they have created. After streamer Lacy told his Twitch chat he was Jewish, they began spamming ‘Jew’ or ‘that’s such a Jewish thing to do’ during his live streams. When I joined a stream of his during the FaZe Subathon II last July, I faced a similar situation. While watching a regular desktop stream, his chat subjected me to a barrage of thinly veiled antisemitism amplified on the screen of the stream itself. 

Despite being a long-time fan of Twitch, I’ve started fleeing the platform for reuploading sites such as YouTube that have healthier cultures. I feel guilty when I open Twitch, even if just to watch Vanillamace or other queer streamers, because I know the kind of creators the algorithm champions. Intentionally or not, Twitch has made it clear that people like me are not welcome there. I don’t get to participate in live events, support my favorite streamers by subscribing, or interact with them through chat anymore because Twitch—and many streamers—don’t care about making Twitch a healthy environment for everyone.