The increasing elusiveness of virality and how to take advantage of it when you catch it.

Thanks to those of you who checked out my first newsletter edition last week. I officially broadcast that email to 38 people (although I personally emailed it to a great deal more 😂). This week, 79 email addresses will receive our newsletter. With this kind of +100% week-over-week growth, I’ll be retiring to the coast of Ghana by November.

Let’s get this started!

Last week, we kicked off our The Virality Paradox series with Part I, which discussed:

How do we define virality?
What makes virality so magical?
How do algorithms decide who goes viral?

Today, we’ll dive into the following topics on virality:

Why is it getting harder to go viral?
What actually happens after you go viral?

In my mind, these are key questions to answer when it comes to virality. As more creators come online, more people are undoubtedly looking for viral moments to kick off their creator journeys. But if everybody is trying to become a creator, everybody knows the tricks, and every platform is fighting to maintain their positioning, is virality a realistic outcome? And if it is, can creators effectively take advantage of it?

Is it Getting Harder to Go Viral? Is Virality Dead?

Throughout internet history, going viral was never easy, but it used to be relatively more common for those who were creating on a regular basis. Certain tactics, timing, and platforms made it possible to gain massive reach with the right content, even if you had no following to start.

Blogging Era (Early 2000s): Getting picked up by Reddit, Digg, or StumbleUpon could instantly flood your site with traffic. One good headline could mean hundreds of thousands of views.
White/Black Hat SEO Era (2000s): Keyword stuffing and clever tagging made it easy to dominate Google News or blog search rankings with little competition.
Early YouTube Era (2007–2012): Getting featured on the homepage or trending tab (for months!) often meant simply optimizing for clickbait titles and thumbnails. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.
Facebook Era (Early 2010s): Network effects were real. Posts like the Ice Bucket Challenge spread virally through tagging, shares, and challenges that grew exponentially without needing paid reach.
Twitter Era (2010s): Being first to break news (accurate or not) was a surefire way to go viral. Timeliness married with wit was the ultimate cheat code.
TikTok’s Rise (2019–2022): Powered by a hyper-addictive algorithm, creators who brought creativity to a trending dance or nailed the emotional hook could go from zero to a million followers in a weekend.

But those days are gone.

The platforms have changed. The stakes are higher. The tools are smarter.

The game is different.

Virality, 1996–2025. It was a good run.

So how did it die? Let’s count the ways.

1. Organic Reach Is Less Human

Organic reach on most major platforms is harder and harder to come by. It used to be that content spread through a combination of peer-to-peer discovery—your favorite posts were passed around like a note in Math class. This worked because the internet wasn’t yet overcrowded. You sharing something carried weight with your network.

But then Facebook started making it harder for you to see content from the creators you followed. And then TikTok sealed the deal. Now, every platform has adopted TikTok’s “For You Page” strategy: predictive, behavioral, and built to exploit your subconscious preferences.

This shift means content spreads because of algorithms, not via humans and organic relationships. Good content doesn’t arise because your friends endorse it. It rises—or sinks—based on click-throughs, retention time, and engagement metrics—for which the content makers are increasingly optimizing their content towards.

2. What First Mover Advantage?

There was a time when being first meant everything. The first tweet. The first blog post. The first upload. And it didn’t matter if you were from a credible news organization or just a guy who saw something—first was first, and the clicks came with it. Media empires were built off this, including companies like HuffPost, Buzzfeed, Bleacher Report, and The Shade Room.

Not anymore.

Platforms are flooded. Professionals dominate the breaking news cycle. When ESPN gives Adrian Wojnarowski $35M to tweet NBA trades first, your little news scoop doesn’t stand a chance against these well-resourced pros.

And because algorithms only want to give you the most engaging content, headline scoops don’t travel long, with any singular source often devalued significantly from 10 years ago.

3. Familiarity Beats Originality

In the early days of social media, being different was good. Having a unique take, or position, or style, was rewarded by users. Virality was driven by surprise and originality, because humans were doing the sharing.

Now, algorithms are trained to recognize patterns and reinforce them. On TikTok, that means dances, templates, and trending sounds. On YouTube, it means MrBeast-style thumbnails.

Familiarity signals relevance. Originality often gets ignored.

4. More Creators = More Noise

An era ago, very few people were posting to social media consistently. This was due in part to a relatively high barrier to entry, where you needed an actual camera, editing software, and the know-how. Thus, if you went through all of that, (a) you did something few others could, and (b) the content was more original. Consequently, that same era ago, the average piece of content was qualitatively better on a relative basis, and thus, more likely to go viral.

That barrier to entry is gone.

Everyone has a phone. Everyone has editing tools. Everyone wants to go viral.

That means there’s simply more content. And more sameness. Even great creators now have to fight through a wall of mediocrity.

The result?

Even if your content is special, it’s harder to get noticed.

5. Manufactured Discovery

There used to be standardized tactics to get views. But they weren’t automatic—otherwise, I’d be a multi-million dollar creator today. As such, discovery was unpredictable yet democratic. You did the things to get the views, but the audience still had to “vote” on the winner of the day. But with enough shots on goal, eventually platforms rewarded you for content that struck a chord with people. Buzzfeed was great at this.

Today, however, everyone is in the business of going viral. I can’t go 2 minutes on IG without an ad or post telling me how they can help me get more views.

Discovery is now manufactured: optimizing intros, a/b testing thumbnails, and leveraging guests on your podcasts. Everyone’s using the same tactics. It’s no longer about being relatable, it’s about your content assembly line. Henry Ford would be proud.

6. Was it a Trend or a Blur?

Social trends used to last for weeks, if not months.

The “Ice Bucket Challenge” → 1 year
The Harlem Shake → The duration of my time in Bschool
The “types of people” skits → Still going? 😂

These longer trends meant you didn’t have to jump on something the second it happened, and you could create a more original take.

Now, trends move at the speed of light. Why?

Because “For You” feeds deliver it fast, over-saturate us with low-quality, copycat content, and move on. There’s no time to remix, elevate a moment, or add value to the conversation—only enough time to copy it before it dies.

7. Pay to Play

For a long time, platforms were simply trying to grow. Outside of Facebook, just about every other social media platform spent at least a decade losing money in search of winning user share. Thus, they did everything possible to promote deserving content; oftentimes using charts, notifications, and emails to highlight content that served their goals.

But now, social media platforms are mature businesses. Public, paid, and profit hungry.

And they don’t want money just from advertisers. They also want it from the other professionals using their platforms: creators.

Sure, they still want you to create great, organic content, but they don’t mind if you pay for its reach.

Boosts. Promotions. Ads. Influencer discovery tools.

It all helps quench the profit hunger.

These boosts are supposed to get you out of that dreaded 202-view jail and make you feel seen—you just have to pay to play.

What does all of this mean for creators? Black Creators? The Creator Economy?

For creators, the age of digital meritocracy is over. Ten years ago, if you saw someone with 1 million followers, you could assume they created something novel, original and more compelling than the next person. Now, the game is so crowded and growth is so engineered, that I can come across 5 podcasts talking about the same thing, and the one with the biggest following is the one that worked the algorithm the best. Yes, platforms are rewarding consistency, but consistent what? Polish? Trend copying? Format jacking? Post boosting?

For Black creators, we’re put in an interesting place. Typically, we’ve been the trendsetters but rarely the beneficiaries. Quinta Brunson didn’t get a gajillion followers for creating a viral trend sensation—her reward was a gig at Buzzfeed. And if the new path to creator success requires being able to create something familiar, where success is measured by algorithms, not culturally democratized impact, how do we win? Especially if it requires paying to boost your content.

And for the creator economy as a whole, the era of easy virality is over. The creator economy is maturing. And in mature industries, the incumbents hold on to power and upstarts have trouble breaking through due to increased competition, capital requirements, and gatekeeping.

This is where we are.

Of course, this doesn’t mean creators can’t win. It just means:

Strategy must replace hope.
Ownership must replace dependency.
Community must replace algorithms.

And for the Black creator economy specifically, we can no longer afford to chase virality. Because again…

Virality is dead.

We now must focus our culture-defining, trendsetting ways on building value, not views. That means playing this new game, and learning these new rules.

So that eventually, we can rewrite them.

What Actually Happens After You Go Viral?

The pros and cons of a viral moment—why some creators turn it into success while others fade away.

Okay, I know I just said virality is deadl. But I have a confession: viral moments aren’t entirely dead. They’re just rare, unreliable, and staring into the light. But if you catch virality—if lightning strikes—it can be life-changing.

It can also mean… absolutely nothing.

When I was running my startup, BlackOakTV, we had forgettable viral moments like that. For example, a clip from our original series The Closet B!tch went viral. It was a scene of 2 main characters exhibiting that new friend spark—the kind of instant New York City friendship energy that makes strangers feel like soulmates. Viewers loved and related that clip to the time they met their best friends.

Overnight: hundreds of thousands of views, thousands of new followers, and loads of comments about friendship and connection.

We were ready. We had a library of clips. A release plan. An app. A strategy.

And still…nothing.

There was a small bump for older content, but new clips underperformed. The virality didn’t carry over.

Why? Because the clip went viral for a moment, not the show. People didn’t fall in love with the series—they fell in love with that feeling. The audience we attracted didn’t match our target. And while a few people stayed, most drifted away.

We’re now shutting down BlackOakTV. But that’s a story for another time.

This example, though, captures the hidden downside of virality:

You get popular for something you don’t actually do
You attract an audience that’s not yours
Your content doesn’t match your following
You burn out trying to recreate a moment that was never repeatable

But of course, not every viral moment ends in a flameout.

There’s also the “nothing happens” scenario. A viral post takes off, and…that’s it.

No new followers. No retention. The attention disappears as fast as it comes.

This happens most often when creators:

Don’t post consistently
Don’t have more content ready
Haven’t built systems to capitalize on the moment

In a way, it’s a blessing in disguise—you avoid the spiral of trying to chase a ghost. But you also miss the upside.

And that upside can be real.

Viral moments can bring exposure. New audiences. New opportunities. And sometimes…new money.

Just look at Reesa Teesa.

She turned her 50-part TikTok saga into a social media event: millions of views, national press, and a Hollywood deal with Natasha Rothwell. She told her story, built a following, and now has a TV show in the works.

So what separates the Reesas from the rest of us?

After studying hundreds of creators who made something of their viral moment, I’ve noticed 4 key factors:

A Strong Content Library 🔁

When people discover you, they want more. Not tomorrow—now.

If they land on your viral post and see nothing else? They bounce.

But if they find a full library of content they love, they stick around.

In 2010, I heard a wild radio segment where a host roasted NBA teams for losing a big free agent. I tracked down the full episode, found out it was a podcast, subscribed to the RSS feed, binged their back catalog of episodes, and 15 years later, I still listen to The Dan Le Batard Show.

Virality brings interest. Your library sustains it.

Follow-Up Content ⏭️

You have to follow up, but strategically.

If you went viral for a heartfelt parenting take on your sports podcast, those new followers don’t want to hear about last night’s Knicks game.

So if you’re in that position, now you’ve got two choices:

Stay the course and let that new audience go.
Pivot your sports podcast into a parenting one.

Now, I’m not pretending choice #2 is the most genuine, authentic, realistic thing to do. But I am saying there’s absolutely no growth in choice #1.

Owning Your Audience 📬

I wouldn’t say owning your audience is absolutely necessary to “win” at virality, as Reesa Teesa certainly didn’t have a newsletter with bonus thoughts on her wild saga. But unless you go mega-viral, you do need something to hold onto that moment.

So have something in place that captures emails, registers people for a free community, or funnels followers somewhere you control. Otherwise, most of your new fans will forget you by the morning.

Think of it this way: people have the best intentions, but you’re not yet part of their routine. A single newsletter or reminder might be all it takes to keep them around for the next 15 years.

Access to Opportunity 💰

This is the hard truth: going viral only changes your life if you can monetize it.

That might mean an agent sliding into your DMs. Or already having brand deals, products, memberships, or funnels in place.

But if you have no monetization plan, all that attention is just that—attention.

Of course, even with all these things in place, there are no guarantees.

You can have a library, a strategy, a funnel—and still never benefit from or recreate that viral spark.

Going viral once and spending the next two years chasing that same high is…common.

It’s the creator economy version of child stardom.

For every Drew Barrymore that had their star-turn at 7 and stayed relevant in Hollywood for the next 40 years, there are a thousand kid actors whose names we’ll never remember.

That’s the myth. That virality = success.

That one big post = a career.

But sustained growth, real income, and actual freedom?

That doesn’t come from one video. It comes from systems, strategy, and support.

So no—virality isn’t all the way dead.

But if it’s all you chase, it will kill your creator dreams.

Virality is a spark.

To build anything meaningful, you need firewood, a chimney, and a plan to keep it burning.

Because, as we’ll cover in Part 3, even if you rack up millions of views or subscribers, the only ‘millionaire’ status you might reach is being a YouTube millionaire. And that alone, is not enough.

What Has Ashton Done with His Virality?

Let’s go back to our man of the moment: Ashton Hall.

He went viral on March 20th when a meme page reposted his morning routine. That video now has over 700 million views across platforms. Since then, Ashton has been in a rare position: massive visibility, culture-wide conversation, and a potential goldmine of opportunity.

So… how’s he doing?

Let’s break it down using the four key moves I outlined last week for post-viral success:

1. Content Library – ✅

This is Ashton’s strongest category by far.

Before going viral, he already had a robust archive across YouTube, IG, and TikTok. Dozens of 10-minute+ YouTube videos. Routines. Fitness. Food. Several scattered coaching moments. So when the world showed up, there was something for them to binge, even including some long-form content that gave context to the meme.

That’s huge. If he’d gone viral without a content backbone, most people would’ve bounced after the first laugh.

2. Follow-Up Content – Strategic (But Risky)

I can’t tell for sure, but it looks like Ashton may have pulled some of his content on personal growth. If indeed he pulled any of his “life coaching” videos from YouTube, that was very strategic. He didn’t go viral as a coach—he went viral as a hyper-disciplined, over-the-top, cold-plunging machine. And he’s doubled down on that.

His recent content includes:

More morning routines (serious and satirical)
Flashbacks to breaking his TV
Running alongside cars
More Saratoga plunges than any face can handle

And it’s working.

His five pre-viral life coaching videos averaged 11M views. His five pre-viral routine clips? 88M. The audience—and the algorithm—made it clear what they came for. Ashton listened.

The pivot is smart, but here’s the risk: it may not be durable. If his identity gets locked into “extreme morning guy,” the next pivot might be harder. And eventually, audiences burn out on even the best bits.

3. Owning His Audience – Needs Work

This is where things get shaky. He has a few links floating around—a lead form for mentorship, a coaching page—but they’re buried, barely promoted, and not optimized for conversion. You’d have to go out of your way to find them. And even then, it’s unclear what you’re signing up for.

Is he building a list? Selling a product? Creating a funnel?

Maybe.

But from the outside, it looks like a missed opportunity. With the amount of traffic he’s getting, even the simplest “comment ROUTINE to join my private list” CTA could’ve yielded 100k leads by now. Where’s the community, the waitlist, the ownership?

If he’s booked, busy, and retooling behind the scenes, fair. But if he’s just hoping 15M followers will always be 15M engaged followers… that’s a bet most creators lose.

4. Access to Opportunity – TBD

From a content angle, Ashton is playing the game. More volume, better production, and strategic collaborations (including one with MrBeast). On the surface, he’s making all the right creator moves.

But business-wise? The long-term play isn’t clear.

He could be working with an agency. Lining up licensing, books, or brands. But we don’t see it yet. And that’s okay—real Gs move in silence. Still, the creator economy doesn’t reward patience so much as momentum.

Right now, there’s a window. If he can use this moment to drop a high-velocity offer (community, course, product, premium content)—he wins and he sustains. If he waits too long, he may only be remembered by memes and duets.

Final Scorecard:

Ashton’s virality has been iconic. His execution, in many ways, has been sharp.

But success post-virality isn’t about being smart—it’s about being structured.

We’ll keep watching, because Ashton is now a living case study.

And next week, in Part 3 of this series, we’ll explore why that case study is also a paradox—one that too many Black creators are often trapped in.