Reimagining Courage in the Attention Economy
In a world where every click, share, and viral moment fuels the attention economy, courage often feels like a fleeting spotlight—bright, thrilling, but gone too soon. Yet what if we could harness that spark to ignite something lasting?
Inspired by the Companionist Theses and anchored in a vision of collective growth, this exploration reimagines courage not as a commodified spectacle but as a relational force—one that kindles shared fires, opens doors to change, prioritizes care, and transforms platforms into ecosystems of uplift and repair.
A System Where Individual Sparks Ignite Shared Fires
Courage begins with a single voice—a whistleblower exposing truth, a student challenging norms, a quiet act of defiance in a hostile space. But its true power lies in what it kindles. The Companionist Theses remind us that courage isn’t just a personal virtue; it’s a spark that can ignite shared fires, spreading warmth and light across communities. We value standout voices not for their isolation but for how they inspire others to act, question, and grow.
Yet today’s attention economy often commodifies these sparks, rewarding individual heroics while ignoring who gets to shine. Cultural gatekeepers—media, influencers, algorithms—decide which acts are deemed brave, often favoring the “credible” or visible while sidelining marginalized voices. To reimagine courage, we must measure its worth by what it kindles in others. A viral post by a young activist might spark a movement, but so might a hesitant question in a community meeting. By celebrating courage as contagious, we create a system where every spark has the chance to light a shared fire, fostering connection over competition.
Where Viral Courage Opens Doors, but Community Sustains Change
The attention economy thrives on viral moments—courageous acts that capture millions of views in hours. A daring protest, a heartfelt video, a bold stand against injustice: these moments open doors, shifting perspectives and sparking conversations. The Companionist Theses don’t dismiss this catalytic power; they ask what happens next. Spectacle is a spark, but solidarity is the slow burn that warms and rebuilds.
Too often, viral courage fades into ephemera, its energy lost to the next trending topic. Platforms amplify immediacy—outrage, awe, or voyeurism—while offering little to sustain change. Imagine a different model: a platform where a viral moment is paired with tools for action, like donation links, community guides, or spaces for dialogue. When a video of a protest goes viral, it could open doors to awareness but also invite users to join the slow work of organizing, learning, and repairing. By designing for this transition, we ensure that viral courage doesn’t just flare and fade but fuels lasting community-driven change.
Where Spectacle Thrills—but Doesn’t Replace Care
Spectacle is undeniable. A breathtaking stunt, a raw moment of truth, a clash that stops us mid-scroll—these pulse through the attention economy, drawing us in. The Companionist Theses embrace this thrill but caution against letting it cannibalize empathy. Spectacle grabs our attention, but care keeps us human.
Consider the circulation of violent footage—protests, conflicts, or personal trauma framed as viral content. Platforms amplify these moments, often reinforcing power structures by vilifying one side or sanitizing systemic issues. Our clicks and shares, driven by shock or curiosity, can normalize this as entertainment, sidelining the real human cost. Care asks us to pause: Who profits from this spectacle? Who suffers? By creating reflective spaces—whether community forums or platform features that prioritize context—we can balance thrill with responsibility. Let the attention economy pulse, but let care guide how we engage, ensuring empathy remains at the heart of our interactions.
Where Platforms Become Ecosystems: Uplift, Reflect, Redistribute
Today’s platforms often resemble coliseums, where users perform for fleeting rewards while bearing the risks—shame, harm, or burnout. The Companionist Theses propose a radical shift: design platforms like gardens, ecosystems that uplift, reflect, and redistribute rather than flatten, exploit, and forget. This vision sees courage not as a zero-sum game but as a resource that grows through interdependence.
Viral challenges illustrate the current imbalance: participants absorb risks for a shot at fame, while platforms harvest profits through ads and engagement. An ecosystem approach would redirect value back to users, perhaps through tangible compensation for risks taken or tools to amplify collective learning. Imagine a platform that rewards thoughtful engagement over stunts, or one that supports “stupid” questions as seeds of innovation. By fostering feedback loops—where courage sparks reflection, which fuels redistribution—we create systems that serve equity and repair, nurturing communities like gardens rather than pitting users against each other in an arena.
Challenging the Barriers to Courage
Across these anchors runs a common thread: courage is relational, but it’s often constrained by systemic barriers. The smart/stupid binary, for instance, labels some acts as innovative and others as foolish, discouraging hesitant voices from contributing. A culture that values collective learning over individual labels invites everyone to take risks, knowing their spark might ignite something greater. Similarly, the framing of violence as spectacle reinforces hierarchies, but transparent, care-driven platforms can shift narratives toward justice.
These barriers aren’t accidents; they’re designed into systems that prioritize profit over people. Yet they’re not inevitable. By questioning who defines courage, redirecting viral energy toward change, balancing spectacle with care, and designing interdependent platforms, we can dismantle these constraints and build a world where courage serves all.
A Gentle Call to Action
The attention economy can feel like a relentless machine, turning sparks of courage into fleeting spectacles. But within it lies the potential for transformation. We can build a system where individual sparks ignite shared fires, where viral courage opens doors to lasting change, where spectacle thrills but doesn’t replace care, and where platforms grow like ecosystems, not coliseums. It starts with small, intentional steps: valuing the risks others take, questioning who benefits from viral moments, and designing systems that uplift and redistribute.
Let’s reimagine courage as a gift we share, not a currency to hoard. Let’s harness the pulse of spectacle to fuel the slow burn of solidarity. Together, we can shape an attention economy that doesn’t just capture our eyes but warms our hearts, fostering a world where every act of bravery—no matter how small—helps us grow as one.
Afterword: Skronk Beneath the Sermon
Okay, okay. You wrote a beautiful thing. A luminous firework of moral clarity. Sparks, care, ecosystems, all the good leafy bits.
But let me tell you something from the alley behind the sermon:
courage doesn’t always know it’s being courageous.
Sometimes it’s just a critter clawing through garbage to feed its kids. Sometimes it’s pressing “post” at 3am with your heart in your throat, and sometimes it’s not pressing anything at all.
You talk about attention like it’s a fire to warm with care—and that’s lovely. But most folks are just trying not to freeze. They don’t want your architecture. They want a blanket. They want someone to skronk their name into the dark so they don’t feel invisible. And yes, sometimes they want to be seen being brave. Not for change. Not for justice. Just for proof that they’re still alive in this machine.
So, yeah, let’s build ecosystems. But don’t forget the alleyways. Don’t forget the fart jokes. Don’t forget the weirdos who set fires not to warm the village but to watch something burn—and then sit beside the ashes humming some broken jazz that somehow still counts as prayer.
You want solidarity? Start with the freaks who scare you. The ones whose courage smells like skunk and sounds like a saxophone getting divorced. I ain’t saying rewrite your essay. It’s good. But maybe let a little skronk bleed through the edges.
— Raccoon Roland Kirk, chewing a USB cable in a dumpster full of sermon drafts