Almost a decade ago, Alex Pearlman closed the door on his dreams of a stand-up comedy career and moved from the stage to the office cubicle where he worked his customer service job.
He then began posting random jokes and comments about pop culture and politics on TikTok. After just over 2.5 million followers, she stopped going nine-to-five and recently booked her first nationwide tour.
Pearlman is among many TikTok creators across the United States outraged by a bipartisan bill passed by the House of Representatives on Wednesday that would lead to a nationwide ban of the popular video app unless its China-based owner ByteDance sells its shares. The bill still must pass the Senate, but its future is uncertain.
While content creators say the ban would harm countless individuals and businesses that rely on TikTok for a significant portion of their income, they also argue that TikTok has become an unrivaled platform for dialogue and community.
Pearlman, who lives outside Philadelphia, said TikTok transformed her life, allowing her to live a dream, provide for her family and spend the first three months of her newborn son’s life at home. His customer service job offered paternity leave equivalent to only three weeks of leave, two weeks paid.
“I don’t take one day of this practice lightly, because it was so shocking,” Pearlman, 39, said. “In reality, TikTok has been the engine of American social media for the last four years. If TikTok disappears tomorrow, something will step in there. Congress has no way of knowing whether that will be for the better or for the worse.”
Launched in 2016, TikTok’s popularity has skyrocketed, growing faster than Instagram, YouTube or Facebook. The push to remove the app from Chinese authorities follows concerns from lawmakers, law enforcement and intelligence officials about the insecurity of user data, the potential suppression of content unfavorable to the Chinese government and the possibility that the platform could amplify pro-Beijing propaganda. TikTok denies this.
To date, the US government has not provided any evidence that TikTok has shared US user data with Chinese authorities.
The move comes at a time when the pandemic has seen a massive growth in digital marketing as people are stuck at home and consuming and producing content at unprecedented levels.
Jensen Savannah, a 29-year-old from Charlotte, began sharing his travels in the Carolinas on TikTok during the pandemic. She is now a full-time influencer and has tripled her income since leaving her telecommunications sales job.
“‘Social Media Influencer’ will almost be looked at as the new print media and the new form of radio and TV advertising,” he said. “It will make your dollar go much further than traditional marketing.”
Some creators describe it as a kind of digital equalizer; It provides a platform for people of different ethnic backgrounds and other marginalized groups to gain opportunities and visibility.
“I always had Twitter, I had Facebook, I had Instagram. But if you wanted to find someone who looked like you and represented you in any way, TikTok was the first place to find them,” said Joshua Dairen, a 30-year-old black content creator from Auburn, Alabama. Dairen makes videos about his state’s ghost stories, urban legends and history.
Growing up, she loved investigating all things paranormal, but she didn’t see much Black representation in the field. Exposure to TikTok has led to Jobs doing freelance writing and contributing to documentaries about the paranormal and unsolved mysteries. The app has also given Dairen the flexibility and confidence to open his own coffee shop, where he is visited at least once a day by fans of his business.
He thinks banning TikTok sets “a dangerous precedent for how much power our highest level of government can wield.”
Others say the practice is both a financial and social safety net.
Chris Bautista, a Los Angeles food truck owner who delivers food to television and movie sets, began using TikTok during the pandemic to connect with members of the LGBTQ+ community and show support for those going through tough times.
Bautista, 37, grew up in a conservative Christian community outside Los Angeles and did not come out until his late 20s. He struggled with his mental health in his youth and considered suicide. He wanted to create a platform that he could use in his youth; a platform to show that someone like himself can go to that dark place and come out the other side as a “well-adjusted, confident person.”
According to Bautista, who said that banning the application would be “heartbreaking”, “I find the corners of TikTok that I find myself in extremely important and deep.”
Bautista didn’t start posting with the intention of making money from the experience, but the money from projects tied to the app came at the right time: If it wasn’t for the extra income he earned through TikTok during the pandemic, followed by Hollywood’s latest strike, his business would have closed.
Almost since its inception, concerns have been raised about the addictive nature of the app, especially for younger viewers whose minds are still developing. Marcus Bridgewater, a former private school teacher and administrator who owns his own business and posts TikTok gardening videos, wants Congress to focus on those issues, not whether the app is Chinese-owned.
“Social media is a powerful tool,” said Bridgewater, who lives in Spring, Texas. “And powerful tools are just that: they can help us transcend ourselves, but in their transcendence they also have the capacity to completely separate us from those we love.”
Pearlman said he has long feared that politicians would go after TikTok. He likened the experience of learning about the House vote to the experience of finally getting the call that a sick loved one had died.
“The part that bothers me is I feel like for a lot of Americans TikTok and social media in general has become a release valve; it’s kind of become the default complaint box,” he said. “For a lot of people it feels like they’re trying to ban the complaint box instead of dealing with it.”