America Experiences Hours of TikTok Withdrawal
The DailyYou’re reading The New Yorker’s daily newsletter, a guide to our top stories, featuring exclusive insights from our writers and editors. Sign up to receive it in your in-box.In today’s newsletter, TikTok in limbo, and then:A school-shooting-inspired video gameClimate whiplash and the L.A. firesThe drive to ban trans athletes from school sportsPhotograph by Andy Bao / APKyle ChaykaStaff writerJust before 11 P.M. on Saturday night, TikTok went dark in the United States. According to U.S. law, the platform’s parent company, ByteDance, had to sell the app to an American entity by today; any business that continued giving Americans access to TikTok, including app stores run by the likes of Apple or Google, would face major fines. (The law was recently upheld by the Supreme Court, despite TikTok’s protestations that it violated free-speech rights.) Rather than allow the restriction to play out, and perhaps have the platform stagger on for a few more weeks or months, TikTok decided to proactively take away access a little early. From Saturday night into Sunday morning, when U.S. users attempted to open the app, a plaintive message appeared: “Sorry, TikTok isn’t available right now.” It continued, “We are fortunate that President Trump has indicated that he will work with us on a solution to reinstate TikTok once he takes office.” Of course, Donald Trump, whose Inauguration is tomorrow, was one of the originators of the ban, having issued an executive order targeting TikTok during his first Administration, in August, 2020.The wholesale closing off of a hugely popular social network is one of the most dramatic Internet events of the past decade. More than a hundred and seventy million Americans reportedly use TikTok, with adult users spending an average of well over a half an hour on the app a day. It has become a major source of news, entertainment, and culture; lately, it has been where fame in nearly every field is manufactured. Users are already fleeing to alternatives: Meta’s Instagram Reels and Google’s YouTube Shorts are ready-made TikTok replicas, and, beginning last night, Bluesky, an open-source X alternative, was attracting scores of new users. But no app has quite matched the frictionless, hypnotizing, addictive experience of TikTok. Using anything else is something like substituting methadone for heroin. And perhaps the app proved too big or too popular to ban after all. Today, around 1 P.M., it began working again. In a statement, TikTok thanked Trump for “providing the necessary clarity and assurance to our service providers that they will face no penalties.”TikTok is continuing a game of chicken with the outgoing Biden Administration and the incoming Trump White House, betting that blame will fall on whichever political party is seen as having allowed the app to disappear (and that praise will come to whoever saves it). Trump has pledged to give the company a ninety-day reprieve of the law and thus more time to arrange a sale. Despite the promised delay, the ongoing threat of a ban or a sale that would radically alter the platform may encourage an exodus regardless. TikTok could easily disappear once more. The mood from users on the app has been manic in recent weeks, as the deadline approached. Creators tried to push their followers toward their accounts on more reliable platforms. Users dredged up nostalgic video clips and sounds from the pandemic moment when TikTok first became popular in the U.S. Some users moved over to Xiaohongshu, nicknamed RedNote, another TikTok-esque app from China.During the days leading up to the TikTok stoppage, I saw Americans, in video after video, sharing content from RedNote and reciting basic Mandarin vocabulary with an enthusiasm that harked back to the heyday of China’s greater openness to international culture, in the mid-two-thousands. If the U.S. government is concerned about the Chinese government’s influence online, the ban seemed to accomplish the opposite of the desired effect.The Weekend EssayIllustration by Max GutherHow a School Shooting Became a Video GameGames are often blamed for gun violence, but the parents of one victim believe the form can raise awareness instead.By Simon ParkinThe Final Exam, a recently released video game in which you play as a student caught amid a school shooting, lasts for around ten minutes, about the length of a real shooting event in a U.S. school. The game opens in an empty locker room. You hear distant gunfire, screams, harried footsteps, and the thudding of heavy furniture being overturned. The sense of disharmony is immediate: a familiar scene of youth and learning is grimly debased into one of peril. As the lockers surround you, their doors gaping, you feel caged: get me out of here. Moments later, as you enter the gymnasium, a two-minute countdown flashes on screen. The shooter is headed your way. Hide. Keep reading »More Top StoriesClimate Whiplash and Fire Come to L.A.What’s Behind the Bans on Transgender
In today’s newsletter, TikTok in limbo, and then:
- A school-shooting-inspired video game
- Climate whiplash and the L.A. fires
- The drive to ban trans athletes from school sports
Kyle Chayka
Staff writer
Just before 11 P.M. on Saturday night, TikTok went dark in the United States. According to U.S. law, the platform’s parent company, ByteDance, had to sell the app to an American entity by today; any business that continued giving Americans access to TikTok, including app stores run by the likes of Apple or Google, would face major fines. (The law was recently upheld by the Supreme Court, despite TikTok’s protestations that it violated free-speech rights.) Rather than allow the restriction to play out, and perhaps have the platform stagger on for a few more weeks or months, TikTok decided to proactively take away access a little early. From Saturday night into Sunday morning, when U.S. users attempted to open the app, a plaintive message appeared: “Sorry, TikTok isn’t available right now.” It continued, “We are fortunate that President Trump has indicated that he will work with us on a solution to reinstate TikTok once he takes office.” Of course, Donald Trump, whose Inauguration is tomorrow, was one of the originators of the ban, having issued an executive order targeting TikTok during his first Administration, in August, 2020.
The wholesale closing off of a hugely popular social network is one of the most dramatic Internet events of the past decade. More than a hundred and seventy million Americans reportedly use TikTok, with adult users spending an average of well over a half an hour on the app a day. It has become a major source of news, entertainment, and culture; lately, it has been where fame in nearly every field is manufactured. Users are already fleeing to alternatives: Meta’s Instagram Reels and Google’s YouTube Shorts are ready-made TikTok replicas, and, beginning last night, Bluesky, an open-source X alternative, was attracting scores of new users. But no app has quite matched the frictionless, hypnotizing, addictive experience of TikTok. Using anything else is something like substituting methadone for heroin. And perhaps the app proved too big or too popular to ban after all. Today, around 1 P.M., it began working again. In a statement, TikTok thanked Trump for “providing the necessary clarity and assurance to our service providers that they will face no penalties.”
TikTok is continuing a game of chicken with the outgoing Biden Administration and the incoming Trump White House, betting that blame will fall on whichever political party is seen as having allowed the app to disappear (and that praise will come to whoever saves it). Trump has pledged to give the company a ninety-day reprieve of the law and thus more time to arrange a sale. Despite the promised delay, the ongoing threat of a ban or a sale that would radically alter the platform may encourage an exodus regardless. TikTok could easily disappear once more. The mood from users on the app has been manic in recent weeks, as the deadline approached. Creators tried to push their followers toward their accounts on more reliable platforms. Users dredged up nostalgic video clips and sounds from the pandemic moment when TikTok first became popular in the U.S. Some users moved over to Xiaohongshu, nicknamed RedNote, another TikTok-esque app from China.
During the days leading up to the TikTok stoppage, I saw Americans, in video after video, sharing content from RedNote and reciting basic Mandarin vocabulary with an enthusiasm that harked back to the heyday of China’s greater openness to international culture, in the mid-two-thousands. If the U.S. government is concerned about the Chinese government’s influence online, the ban seemed to accomplish the opposite of the desired effect.
The Weekend Essay
How a School Shooting Became a Video Game
Games are often blamed for gun violence, but the parents of one victim believe the form can raise awareness instead.
By Simon Parkin
The Final Exam, a recently released video game in which you play as a student caught amid a school shooting, lasts for around ten minutes, about the length of a real shooting event in a U.S. school. The game opens in an empty locker room. You hear distant gunfire, screams, harried footsteps, and the thudding of heavy furniture being overturned. The sense of disharmony is immediate: a familiar scene of youth and learning is grimly debased into one of peril. As the lockers surround you, their doors gaping, you feel caged: get me out of here. Moments later, as you enter the gymnasium, a two-minute countdown flashes on screen. The shooter is headed your way. Hide. Keep reading »
- Climate Whiplash and Fire Come to L.A.
- What’s Behind the Bans on Transgender Athletes?
- John McPhee’s Project Meant Not to End
- The Henri Cartier-Bresson of South Korea
P.S. Donald Trump’s first Inauguration, in 2017, was also the day that hundreds of thousands of women marched in protest of his Presidency. “What’s the opposite of a miracle?” Sarah Larson wrote at the time. “ ‘Nightmare’ captures the mood, but, of course, we are awake.”
