2024: The year of infinite content — what it means for us all
Hi, I’m Omar, the founder and CEO of Kinnect. This blog is part of the "From Omar" series, where I share my reflections on family, relationships, and the culture we’re all living in. These aren’t polished takes — they’re raw thoughts I’m still working through.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how 2024 feels different, not just because of what’s happening but because of how much is happening all at once.
Last week, I wrote an article about Luigi and the UnitedHealthcare CEO. I said then that it wouldn’t be a "one-week story" — it would be one of those stories that continues to evolve, gets referenced in podcasts, becomes a case study, and eventually enters that “where were you when?” territory.
And now? It’s still playing out. Last week, it made it onto SNL with a viral clip on TikTok. New details are coming out, too — like how Luigi's lawyer is the same one representing P. Diddy.
This is what I mean when I say 2024 feels different. The story isn't just the story anymore. It’s the continuation of it. It’s the spin-offs, the remixes, the theories, the news headlines, and the updates that get dropped into your TikTok feed at 11 PM on a Tuesday.
The pace feels wild.
It’s not that the world wasn’t constantly moving like this — I mean, there have always been a million things happening simultaneously. But now we see it all in real time. The way it’s delivered to us is faster. It’s endless. It’s on TikTok, YouTube, podcasts, and Instagram all at once. And the thing that’s hard to process is this: The new normal keeps changing, over and over.
Every few years, something shifts — like a new algorithm, app, or device that makes it easier to consume even more of it. First, it was cable, then 24-hour news, and then the rise of Facebook and Instagram. Now it’s TikTok, Reels, Shorts, and AI-driven "for you" feeds.
It’s overwhelming.
Why it feels like culture is moving faster than ever
There’s always been "pop culture." There have always been big moments — monumental moments. Major global events, shocking celebrity moments, political controversies — all. It’s been happening for decades.
But here’s what’s changed: How fast it hits us and how long it stays in our orbit.
In the past, you’d hear about something on the news, maybe catch it on TV later that night, or read it in the paper the next day. But today? The moment it happens, it’s on your phone. There’s no delay.
Here’s the other thing: It doesn’t just hit once. It shows up in a hundred different places, over and over. You’ll see it on TikTok, then Instagram, then YouTube Shorts. There’s a podcast discussing it. Then it’s on a meme. And if it’s huge, it gets referenced on SNL or in a viral tweet.
That one moment becomes a chain reaction.
Take the Luigi case as an example. It didn’t just "happen" and fade away. It’s being framed in new ways every few days. First, it was about the shocking assassination. Then, it was about Luigi’s motives. Then, it became about his lawyer’s connection to other major court cases.
Every detail gets recycled into new content.
And here’s what’s wild — it’s not like we’re actively seeking it out. We’re not Googling "Luigi updates" every day. The content finds us. The algorithms push it forward. It gets remixed, re-packaged, and placed right in front of you.
That’s what’s different. We used to "go get the news." Now, the news comes for us.
The Cost of Consuming Everything All at Once
I think a lot about how much we’re all consuming every day.
On a typical day, I can open my phone in the morning, and within 10 minutes, I’ve:
- I scrolled through TikTok (probably 7-10 clips)
- Checked news headlines (politics, business, or celebrity drama)
- I got a text from a friend or family member
- Scanned a few Instagram stories
- Played music or a podcast in the background
And this is normal behavior.
This wasn’t normal for my parents. It wasn’t normal for most of us 10 years ago. But now, it’s just what we do.
And I can’t help but wonder — what’s that doing to us?
What happens when your brain has to process that much every single day? If you’re in your 30s, you’re old enough to remember when this wasn’t how we lived. You can remember the "pre-constant content" era. But this is their baseline for people in their 20s (and especially teens).
It makes me wonder if we’re even supposed to live like this. Our brains weren’t built for 24/7 media consumption. We’re animals. We’re not designed to sit still, scroll endlessly, and consume 300 daily updates. Our minds were built for survival, problem-solving, and creativity —
I don’t know the long-term effects of all this, but I know it’s something to watch. I’ve read that they’ve already started focusing on "digital detox" initiatives in Australia. Schools are pulling back on screen time. Companies are encouraging employees to take "no-screen hours" during the day.
It’s making me wonder: Do we need that too?
The Role of Memory in All of This
As the founder of Kinnect, I think about how all of this impacts our ability to remember.
Because memory isn’t just about what happened — it’s about how much of it you can hold on to.
If you think about 2024, it already feels like a memory of “big moments.” But what will we keep from this year? What moments will still be with us in 10 years?
I don’t think it will be every TikTok trend, viral moment, or 15-second news update. I think it’ll be something more profound. Maybe it’ll be one of those “where were you when…” moments — like the Luigi case or some massive cultural shift.
But a lot of it? I think it’ll fade.
And I think about how, as humans, we’re not meant to store all of this. If you think about your favorite family memories, they’re probably simple moments. Moments you sat with for a while. Moments where you had time to reflect, think, and process.
That’s something we don’t get anymore. The content just keeps coming. It’s relentless.
Closing Thoughts
I don’t have the perfect conclusion for this. It’s something I’m still thinking about.
But I do know this: We’re in a moment of change.
The speed of content. The frequency of “big moments.” The way news is delivered. It’s all shifting, and we’re being asked to change.
I’m starting to think 2024 might be remembered as a year of overwhelming moments. A year when everything felt like it was "big" but also so frequent that we couldn’t hold on to any of it for too long.
It’s a lot.
And maybe that’s the takeaway. Perhaps we need to think about how much we’re taking in. Not every piece of content deserves a spot in our heads. Not every big moment needs to stay with us. Some things should be let go.
But some moments — some stories, some reflections — deserve to stay.
And maybe we have to be more intentional about which ones those are.
“What memory from this year do you think will stick with you 10 years from now?”