It’s 10:20 a.m. in Coates Hall and your class just ended. You’ve got to be at Lockett in 10 minutes, so you set out through the quad. A man with a microphone and a camera approaches you. He asks how attractive you think you are.
Now, on your walk to class, you could be seen by over 71,000 people.
Seth Trotter is a 21-year-old junior entrepreneurship major at LSU, an online content creator and a “public figure,” according to his Instagram bio. He has cultivated a large following on TikTok (71,600 followers), Instagram (8,551 followers) and Facebook (5,300 followers) by posting compilations of short interviews with members of LSU’s student body.
Trotter typically posts once a day. Each video contains four to six interviews and racks up anywhere from 15,000 to 3 million views. His most popular is sitting at 5 million.
Trotter produces content commonly known as “man-on-the street” or, more formally, “Vox pop” videos. This style of content is defined by its interviews with random members of the public. It has a large audience on TikTok, with the hashtag “man on the street” having over 1.2 billion views.
Trotter says this style of content is popular because people often relate to average members of the public. He cited that relatability as one of the biggest contributing factors to his ever-growing follower counts.
“The more relatable thing, or the more value you’re adding for your potential audience, is going to catch fire,” said Trotter.
But what exactly is the content that Trotter has found so much success making? The bulk of it falls into one of three categories:
“What song are you listening to?” Trotter asks what song you’re listening to, and you share the song you’re currently playing.
“What would you rate this person?” Trotter shows you a photo and asks you to rate the person in it out of 10. You then rate yourself out of 10 and say whether you think other people will agree.
“What would you rate this outfit?” This is identical to rating a person, but with outfits.
Many LSU students enjoy this content, but reasons vary from person to person.
Ryan DePriest, a junior political communications and history double major, doesn’t regularly view man-on-the-street content, but thinks it’s valuable on college campuses. He feels mainstream media doesn’t often reflect the views of the majority. For him, content like Trotter’s is a better representation of how people feel.
“Interviewing college students about their sentiments on things has always been useful,” DePriest said. “It gives a better way to trade public sentiments and see what the true outliers are.”
He also enjoys the sense of community these videos can help create. DePriest said many college students enjoy having their voices heard, and Trotter’s videos can make that happen.
“A lot of people just want to be talked to,” he said.
Emma Van Pelt, a 19-year-old sophomore social work major, has another reason for liking these videos. She often takes song recommendations from the people Trotter interviews and said she appreciates the variety of music that gets talked about.
These videos are more than just the interviews though. Other aspects of a textbook man-on-the-street video include brevity and an attention-grabbing premise. Interviewers need a lot of footage to release consistent video content, which is why students often find Trotter in the quad, ready to film.
Trotter’s interviews are quick. Most last one to two minutes total between the first word spoken and the wave goodbye. Many people only have a second to spare when going about their day, but Trotter says it gives the interactions a “lightning-in-a-bottle energy.” He said fast interviews also help creators, because they keep people’s attention and multiple of them fit in a single video.
Some students appreciate a concise interview. DePriest was interviewed by Trotter and featured in a video about “the worst female fashion trends.” He described the interaction as fun and overall lighthearted, due in part to the quick turnaround time.
“It was a minute in and out,” said DePriest.
On the other hand, prioritizing speed can lead creators to cut some corners. Trotter usually approaches people before the camera starts rolling to ask if they want to be in a video. He sometimes omits that step in order to catch people off guard, which he feels makes for a more compelling interview.
“I like to catch people’s genuine reactions,” he said.
Many students’ concerns about man-on-the-street videos start here.
Allie Brunet, a junior psychology major at LSU, enjoys man-on-the-street content and watched it frequently in 2022. Brunet said she would be thrilled to feature in a video, but does not think every student shares the sentiment.
“Consent is important when you’re filming people,” she said, “Not everyone wants that.”
Van Pelt agreed, with added concern for how the audience might react.
She said online comment sections often take short clips of people and make assessments about their entire personality. She believes the problem worsens when someone doesn’t want to be filmed or posted in the first place, as commenters often assume a person is rude for ignoring an interviewer.
“Some people just aren’t comfortable with that,” said Van Pelt, “You don’t know anything about them.”
Trotter understands the concerns associated with man-on-the-street videos. He thinks creators too often prioritize getting views over being respectful, which leads them to film or post people without consent. Trotter said he disapproves of that mentality and follows rules to ensure nobody is upset or embarrassed by his content.
One of these rules is never posting a video that someone doesn’t want posted, even if it would perform well.
“There have been a lot of videos I haven’t even put out because people had messaged me previously to not post it, and I wanted to post it so bad because I knew it was going to do so good,” said Trotter.
He also has rules for posting interviews with people caught off guard. These interviews don’t involve verbal consent, so Trotter uses his own judgments about whether a person is comfortable and willing to participate. According to him, people he deems uncomfortable or unwilling do not get posted.
“Not necessarily a verbal consent, but a smile or a nod,” said Trotter, “Even if they tell me what song they’re listening to, but I see them struggling to give me an answer or thinking of what to say, then I won’t post the video.”
Trotter often relies on his ability to read social cues. As a result, the lines of consent in some interviews can seem blurry.
The last interview in his video posted on March 30 ends with Trotter asking the standard “What song are you listening to?” and being told, “I’m not listening to a song, it’s just quiet so people don’t talk to me” in response. The woman being filmed then walks away.
The woman expressed she didn’t want to be talked to before exiting the situation with a smile best described as forced. Trotter included her in the video and, for comedic effect, played the lyrics “don’t talk to me” from the song “Punk Monk” by Playboi Carti over her walking away.
Trotter said he did not feel conflicted posting the video because the woman “looked like she was smiling” as she approached him. He also cited that perceived smile as his reason for not following up with her after the interview to obtain concrete approval.
Many students are also concerned that Trotter’s content could negatively impact some people’s self-image. Most videos center around students making positive or negative judgments about the appearances of other students. Those judgments are then posted to a social media platform, where hundreds of thousands of people can join the judging.
Van Pelt dislikes the culture created by rating TikToks, because they turn looks and outfits into defining traits. She said focusing on these surface-level qualities can lead people to feel anxious about being seen in public.
“On social media, the responses to what people look like can be really stressful. You feel like you always have to look super put together because people are always judging you,” she said.
Van Pelt also feels social media too often encourages creators to lean into negativity. The most liked comments on many videos are often negative and posting interviews where people are awkward or look bad is a way to get more engagement, even if it’s from people being mean, she said.
“70,000 people agreeing, disagreeing, debating on whether you’re hot or not – it’s dehumanizing,” said Van Pelt.
DePriest also questioned the effect that a “rate this person” TikTok could have on someone’s self-image.
“You say ‘I’m a 10,’ and 500,000 people say you’re not. That can’t feel good,” said DePriest.
Trotter thinks his TikToks have a positive effect on everyone involved. He believes a low rating can be good, especially for someone rating themselves highly, because it brings them down to everyone else’s level.
“It knocks them down to humbleness,” he said, “You’re on the same level playing field as everyone else.”
Trotter said people shouldn’t put too much personal stake in the ratings. He said they only represent your attractiveness to another individual, not your worth as a person.
“First appearances, I think, are everything,” said Trotter, “but it’s not so much about that. It’s more that if you see a person, yeah you’re going to judge them, but don’t judge their abilities or who they are.”
Leave a Reply