#digitallabor

Midvale UT

Gaming hasn’t just evolved—it’s a whole culture, an economy, and for some, even a full-time career. It’s an ecosystem where influence, money, and power shape who gets ahead.

Keogh (2020) explains, video game culture isn’t just an industry; it’s a structured economy, where everyone—from streamers to devs to fans—plays a role in reinforcing the system. And that system? It’s bigger than ever. From nostalgic arcade battles to Twitch streams and esports competitions with thousands watching, gaming has exploded into a global phenomenon.

1. Gaming: The Circus Where the Grind Never Ends and the Drama Always Trends 🎮✨

_Gamers, Creators, Cult Leaders

Players aren’t just players; they’re content creators, esports champions, and Discord community leaders. Whether you’re modding Skyrim, debating meta-strategies on Reddit, or dropping donations on YouTube Gaming, the lines between player, fan, and creator are blurrier than ever, with communities rising (and rioting) overnight.

In this world, gaming isn’t just a hobby—it’s a constantly evolving ecosystem where pixels meet passion, and the game never truly ends.

(AKA: Thanks for Robbing Me, You Emotional Capitalist!)

_From Players to Payers

Gaming used to mean grabbing a controller, button-mashing, trash-talking your friend, and screaming over a Mario Kart blue shell. Now? It’s paying $5.99 a month so a stranger might read your name out loud.

Twitch and YouTube Gaming make us feel like we’re part of a community. But are we? Or are we just funding someone else’s career in exchange for scraps of attention?

2. Insert Coin for Friendship: Pay to Win, Pay for...Clout?!

_Twitch or Treat: When Gaming Meets Performance Art

There’s a reason Twitch chat feels so addictive. 

Live streaming isn’t just gaming anymore—it’s a full-blown performance.

YouTube lets gamers upload content, but Twitch turned gaming into live theater - taking things to the next level by making interaction part of the show (Taylor, 2018).

Viewers aren’t just watching; they’re actively feeding into the entertainment loop - they want the personal connection, hoping their name gets read out, their message gets noticed, or their dono gets a reaction. And that feeling? It’s EXACTLY what keeps people coming back.

_Parasocial Pyramids: Fans, Funds, and Fake Friendships

But let’s be real:

If you stop donating, does that “connection” even exist? 

Just ask Sykkuno. When he moved from Twitch to YouTube, his fans LOST their minds. Some shamed him. Some even called it a betrayal—as if he owed them something just because they had watched and donated.

(Ugh, when delulu is NOT the solulu)

The illusion of connection keeps fans hooked (*cough, parasocial relationship, cough*), but make no mistake—it’s a pay-to-win system; the more you give, the higher you climb in this unspoken hierarchy. And that’s the issue:

These aren’t real friendships. They’re transactional. 

…

You guys can hate Sykkuno all you want. But if you think your fave is getting all that cash, think again 👀. Check this out:

(Tachat Igityan 2022)

Why are y’all hating on the creator when the platform takes a huge cut anyway?

3. Lonely and Loaded: Your Faves Love You! (For a Fee) – The Business of Being a Cash Cow

_Superchats and Simp Taxes: Not a Fandom, Just a FinDom

💸 Superchats, subscriptions, dono goals—they’re not just ways to support a creator. They’re pay-to-play mechanics in the game of being noticed.

And here’s where it gets even messier:

✅ If you can’t afford to donate, you’re just another lurker. 💰 If you can, the more you give, the more visible you become. 🐋 The more you pay, the more you matter. (Might even get a personal thank-you, maybe even a DM)

Take Pokimane—when she tried to keep her dating life private, some of her fans acted like she owed them full transparency just because they had supported her for years.

Or look at Ludwig. One fan spent $10,000 on donations just to get noticed. That’s a semester of college—for one “Thanks for the dono, bro.”

At some point, it stops being entertainment and starts feeling like emotional gambling...

_Your Fave Needs Therapy—And So Do You: Healing Besties™

Fans aren’t just fans anymore. They’re unpaid labor—moderators, promoters, emotional support on demand.

Mods work for free, banning trolls, enforcing rules, and protecting a brand they don’t own.

Stans defend streamers online, dogpiling on critics as if it’s their personal responsibility.

Long-time viewers feel entitled to access, expecting personal attention after years of financial support.

And when that illusion breaks? It gets ugly.

💔A streamer takes a break? Fans feel abandoned. 😡 A streamer moves platforms? Fans call it betrayal. 🚫 A streamer sets boundaries? Suddenly, they’re “ungrateful” for their community.

And on the other side? Streamers can never log off.

⏳If they stop streaming, they lose subs. 🔇If they set boundaries, they get backlash. 📉If they ignore the constant demand for content, they risk becoming irrelevant.

Valkyrae learned this the HARD way. When she got caught in the RFLCT skincare controversy, her audience expected her to perform damage control for them—like she was personally responsible for their feelings about it.

The moment a streamer stops being the person fans want them to be, the love turns into hate.

And the worst part? Whether it’s fans demanding more or streamers feeling trapped, the platforms are the only ones truly winning. Twitch, YouTube, and Discord profit from the endless cycle of emotional labor—and they don’t have to lift a finger.

Fans aren’t just paying—they’re working for free. Just Cold. Hard. Digital Labors.

From Joystick to Wallet: GG, Your Money's Gone!

What started as a way to connect has turned into a system of emotional transactions.

As Chia et al. (2020) put it, platforms don’t just exist to serve users; they actively erase alternative models, forcing everyone to play by their rules.

Fans pay to be noticed. Streamers perform and hustle to survive. And the platforms? They profit from both. Twitch and YouTube operate within a platform capitalist model, where interactions are designed to maximize profit for the company, often at the expense of both fans and creators. That’s not broken—that’s by design.

And we call this a ‘community’?

Maybe it’s time we asked ourselves:

At this point, are we even gaming? Or just dollar signs funding someone else's grind, one dono at a time?

References:

Chia, A, Keogh, B, Leorke, D & Nicoll, B 2020, ‘Platformisation in game development’, Internet Policy Review, vol. 9, no. 4.

Keogh, B 2020, ‘The Melbourne Indie Game scenes: Value Regimes in Localized Game Development (Chapter 13)’, in P Ruffino (ed.), Independent Videogames: Cultures, Networks, Techniques and Politics, Taylor & Francis Group, Milton, pp. 209–222.

Tachat Igityan 2022, ‘How Much Do Twitch Streamers and YouTubers ACTUALLY Make from Donations?’, Hackernoon.com, viewed 20 March 2025, .

Chers internautes, 

Le développement du numérique transforme massivement l’économie et la manière dont nous travaillons. Les plateformes numériques, devenues incontournables, reposent considérablement sur le digital labor, ce travail non rémunéré effectué par les utilisateurs. Cet article explore le rôle majeur du digital labor dans l'économie numérique avec ses divers angles. Ce concept sera lié avec le Web affectif. Puis, ces réflexions soulèveront des interrogations sur la valorisation et la régulation du travail.

Tout d’abord, les plateformes numériques sont devenues un pilier central du monde virtuel. Elles sont devenues bien plus que de simples outils de travail. En effet, celles-ci représentent un modèle économique majeur reposant sur la captation du digital labor. Ce concept concerne « les activités numériques quotidiennes des usagers des plateformes sociales, d’objets connectés ou d’applications mobiles » (Cardon, 2015, paragr. 4). En ce sens, les plateformes exploitent ces diverses formes de travail pour alimenter leurs services, souvent sans aucune rémunération équitable. Il s’agit d’une source de profit et d’avantages de marché pour les entreprises de l’économie numérique (Cardon, 2019, paragr. 1). Contribuer à un article sur Wikipédia, poster des photos de famille sur Facebook ou écrire un commentaire dans un forum : toutes ces actions sont des exemples de digital labor (travail gratuit, en français) (idem). 

Les microcontributions des utilisateurs, le microtravail, le crowdsourcing, et même les travailleurs du clic en font aussi partie. Selon Camille Alloing, les travailleurs du clic sont « des professionnels de la communication, des relations publiques ou du marketing qui œuvrent pour des organisations ou des entreprises, publiques et privées. Leur activité […] consiste à faire circuler sur les réseaux sociaux les contenus produits par leur employeur et […] à faire réagir les usagers » (Gauvreau, 2021, paragr. 3).

Le concept du digital labor peut être mis en lien avec le concept du Web affectif. Par exemple, l’usage d’émoticônes pour « taguer » des contenus Web est l’une de ces contributions involontaires des internautes, représentant la « dimension affective » du digital labor. Puis, ces données permettent de tracer un profil émotionnel complet de l’usager du Web (Alloing, 2017, paragr. 4).

En somme, le digital labor et son lien au Web affectif soulignent l'importance majeure des utilisateurs dans l'économie numérique, soulevant des questions fondamentales. Comment concilier la reconnaissance du travail des utilisateurs et  la conservation des plateformes ? Quelles mesures réglementaires pourraient équilibrer la rémunération juste et l’accès aux services en ligne ? Tant de questions me viennent en tête… Et vous, qu’avez-vous à dire sur ce sujet ?

À bientôt!

Bibliographie 

Cardon, D. (2015). Qu’est-ce que le digital labor ? https://larevuedesmedias.ina.fr/quest-ce-que-le-digital-labor

Cardon, D. (2019). Digital labor. https://www.cairn.info/culture-numerique--9782724623659-page-340.htm

Alloing, C. (2017). Une économie numérique des émotions. https://journals.openedition.org/rfsic/3511?lang=en