The "Like, Share, Subscribe" Generation

Last week, the skies over Ahmedabad bore witness to a chilling spectacle: an aircraft tragically crashing shortly after takeoff. In an instant, the event went viral. Images and videos spread like wildfire, accompanied by a predictable chorus of digital reactions—grief, shock, and concern, all expressed through the reflexive act of a share or a comment. Amidst this digital outpouring, a darker, uniquely modern undercurrent emerged: AI-generated videos began circulating, recreating the trauma from the cockpit to the ground, turning a human tragedy into consumable content.

This narrative of passive observation is tragically familiar. We saw it in the online reactions to skirmishes in Kashmir and at the border; we see it in countless global crises served up on our screens. We are living in an era saturated with information, a world curated for consumption. We have become the "Like, Share, Subscribe" generation, masters at consuming content but novices at translating our engagement into tangible action.

This observation isn't just judgment; it's a pattern I see in my conversations with students, bright minds eager to build their futures. When we discuss building a resume, their ambition is palpable. They crave the impactful experiences, the projects that demonstrate initiative, the bullet points that scream "competent" and "engaged."

But here lies the disconnect. Many struggle to do the things that would fill those empty lines. The desire for accomplishment is there, but the leap into active participation—to tackle a real challenge or even do the pre-work for an internship—often seems too vast.

Why? Perhaps the constant, effortless influx of content has fostered a culture of consumption so deep that it has replaced the drive for creation. We see a problem, we empathise (often fleetingly), and we might even share our concern with a post on LinkedIn or Instagram. It's easier to scroll, to double-tap, to offer a fleeting comment than it is to invest the time and effort required for meaningful change.

Think back to the Ahmedabad crash. The online reaction was a storm of information, misinformation, and blame. While empathy is a vital first step, how many who commented will go on to advocate for aviation safety, support the affected families, or investigate the root causes? The anxieties about the post-COVID economy and the rise of AI are real, but speculating online without taking concrete steps—upskilling, exploring new avenues, supporting community initiatives—traps us in a cycle of observation, not agency.

This leads back to a question I'm often asked by students: "What do I write on my resume if I have no extracurriculars, jobs, or volunteer experience?"

My answer is always the same: "Write nothing."

It sounds brutal, but it is the unvarnished truth. If you haven’t done anything, you have nothing to write. A resume is a record of action, not intention. A list of courses and grades, while important, lacks the dynamism that sets a candidate apart. Recruiters don't hire transcripts; they hire people who can demonstrate initiative and apply their knowledge to solve problems.

This stark advice isn't just for students. On a societal scale, if we are constantly "liking" posts about economic hardship, environmental decay, or social injustice without contributing to solutions, what is the value of our digital noise? In that context, perhaps we too should "write nothing."

The "Like, Share, Subscribe" culture has its merits; it can disseminate information with incredible speed. But it risks cultivating a generation that excels at spectating while lagging in participation. The link between our collective screen-time habits and an individual's empty resume is a warning. Genuine impact demands that we move beyond the screen, take initiative, and actively shape the world we want to see.

Otherwise, we are destined to remain a generation of commentators, forever watching the drama unfold without ever daring to step onto the stage.