There is an increasingly popular belief that creators who think will outlast creators who entertain. On the surface, the claim appears reasonable. Thinking matters. Strategy matters. Awareness matters. Yet embedded within this idea is a flawed assumption – that entertainment exists in opposition to thought. It does not.
Entertainment is not mindless. In many ways, it is among the most cognitively demanding forms of content on the internet. To make an audience laugh, smile, or momentarily feel lighter requires precision, cultural sensitivity, observation, and constant recalibration. Whether through comedy, dance, or performance-driven formats, entertainment creators are continuously assessing relevance. What resonates today may fail tomorrow. What feels original can quickly become monotonous.
Even the simplest-looking dance reel is the result of multiple decisions. Which audio is gaining momentum? How saturated is it already? How does one add a personal layer without merely replicating what exists? Comedy creators face an even higher bar. Humour is subjective, attention spans are shrinking, and audience preferences shift quickly. Consistency, in this context, is not easy – it is earned.
Despite this, entertaining creators are frequently dismissed. Their work is labelled frivolous, cringe, or unserious, often positioned as inferior to educational or intellectual content. This framing is elitist and disconnected from how social media actually functions.
Most people do not turn to social platforms with the intention of learning something new every time. They arrive after long workdays, draining commutes, and demanding routines. Often, what they seek is relief – something light, familiar, or amusing. Entertainment serves a real purpose in people’s daily lives, and creators who provide it deliver tangible value.
There is, however, truth in the idea that creators who think will endure longer than those who do not. The distinction lies not between thinkers and entertainers, but between creators who evolve and those who repeat.
Many creators experience early growth through a single successful format or idea. For a time, the returns are strong – views increase, engagement feels effortless, momentum builds. The decline begins when repetition replaces reflection. When success is assumed to be self-sustaining, content becomes predictable and audiences disengage.
When this decline sets in, creators often look outward for explanations. The algorithm is blamed. Visibility is assumed to have been unfairly reduced. In most cases, the cause is simpler: the creator stopped anticipating what the audience wanted next.
Creators who understand that virality is temporary work differently. They know one viral moment isn’t a career. They stay alert to changing formats, shifting tastes, and audience fatigue. They keep experimenting, refining, and adapting. This is what thinking looks like in practice.
Another common misstep is entitlement. As creators gain scale, some begin to assume that their audience will remain loyal regardless of effort. Respect for the viewer’s time diminishes, and relevance follows soon after.
Audiences don’t owe creators loyalty. Viewers stay only as long as they receive value, whether that’s knowledge, entertainment, or emotional relief. When that value disappears, they move on. This is not unfair, but a fundamental to attention-based platforms.
Creators who last understand this. They know attention has to be earned repeatedly. They continue to centre the audience long after growth has been achieved.
In the end, creators who think will outlast those who do not. But thinking should not be conflated with seriousness or pedagogy. Thinking means awareness, evolution, and respect for the audience. Entertainment creators who practice this will endure just as long as any other.
The future does not belong to a single category of content. It belongs to creators who continue to think, adapt, and create value – whatever form that value may take.
(Views are personal)
