Picture this: a prominent nutritionist-influencer stands in her kitchen holding a bag of bagels. She is filming a short – the latest move by YouTube to emulate TikTok in the form of short-format videos that screen content for 60 seconds. The question at hand; are bagels really unhealthy? She responds,
“oh, I’ve got a really great hack for that,”
and proceeds to compose a protein-packed sandwich. Another influencer, who is blind, demonstrates how to cook an egg safely in a microwave. Since when do bagel sandwiches and fried eggs constitute hacks, one might wonder?
Since hackmania. Contemporary generations (notably the Z variety) have developed an acute fixation on hacks – particularly the concept of life hacking – which we may refer to as hack culture.

Not to be confused with hacking, ie. the gaining of unauthorised access to data in a system or computer, life hacks require no technical acumen or digital credentials. Life hacks pertain chiefly to IRL affairs and exist almost exclusively offline. However, the rise of internet culture and the foray into social media has bred the life hack, fostering a fertile platform for its dissemination. While the outdated term hacking challenges a moral and often legal compass, life hacking can be characterised as honest endurance by way of saavy strategy and essential knowledge.
The term life hack emerged in tandem with the rise of social media, coined in 2004 by technology journalist Danny O’Brien 1https://virily.com/lifestyle/trafs-helpful-life-hacks-live-0000001-0000010/ during the O’Reilly Emerging Technology Conference to describe scripts and shortcuts used by IT professionals. Later that same year, Facebook launched. As Facebook gave way to numerous other platforms, social media proceeded to bridge the physical world to the virtual one to unprecedented social extent. Life hacks ceased to be technological in nature, making the leap to what has today come to encapsulate something else entirely.

Often used to title posts on YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok, the life hack has become a significant feature of internet vernacular. Generally shortened to just hack, the term is particularly prevalent in hashtags and as a form of click bait. As the life hack nears its vigintennial, the term has come to encompass anything from quirky fixes to uncommon knowledge and even general guidance in the realms of economics, fashion, domestic affairs, and every genre under the sun. So what is the mass appeal of rebranding useful information, tips & tricks, or just knowledge, as a hack?

Knowledge is built on the premise that intelligence is passed down from generation to generation. From fire and the wheel to mathematics and science, development comes from the basis that human intelligence builds upon itself. Simply put, the hack is an existential intelligence short cut, and who doesn’t love a short cut? In a modern, time-poor society, short cuts present an opportunity to cleverly get ahead with minimal effort and time. Against the backdrop of work smarter not harder, cleverness is a paramount survival mechanism in and of itself. But being clever isn’t enough anymore – employing a hack means you have insider info; access through the back door. The idea of having access to protected, or to some extent privileged, information presents an intriguing prospect of prosperity. Access is the new intellectual currency.

Cue the influencer, who offers their audience passage into otherwise inaccessible worlds and valuable information. Many online influencers not only employ hacks but integrate hack culture into their brand identity. London-based YouTuber Toba Courage, aka THE HACK, gallivants across London on a skateboard offering insight into an array of free or inexpensive avenues into comestible provisions around the city. More often than not, these hacks involve downloading an app that lures clientele with a one-time signup gift such as a free donut or a hot beverage. These kinds of hacks again are inextricably tied to digital media as well as capitalist mechanisms.
Though the hacks cannot be purchased as such, and are arguably free, they require first watching his videos. In the landscape of the attention economy, those minutes of attention equate to The Hack‘s virality, and though the hacks seemingly function outside of the money economy, they are in fact deeply imbricated with consumer culture, accumulating a litany of apps in their wake. Even unpaid apps are hardly free, taking instead personal information and brand exposure as “payment”.
In one particular video, Courage presents a variegated monstera, a pricey and rare houseplant that retails for £50-£100 on average. He explains that he purchased one plant for £50, waited for it to grow, then propagated it for resale. He sells the cuttings for £50 each, tripling the value. What he fails to mention is that propagated monstera nodes can take anywhere from two to three months before forming new leaves. Aside from sharing a bit of botanical awareness and a considerable profit margin, the video demonstrates a veritable leap in the definition of hack. What was once classified as a short cut has come to encompass really any productive endeavour.

Where does hack demand come from? For one thing, sweeping distrust in The Man, or institutional authority, contributes to what makes influencers so influential. They are just like us, right? The common citizen taking broadcasting into their own hands. Furthermore, in the late-capitalist society, it is common knowledge that discounts are built into the price of things. As the cost of living continues to soar, bargains have gone from appealing to indispensable – and influencers must surely understand this better than corporations, right? To that end, paying “full price” indicates a degree of obtuseness on the part of the consumer. Access to influencers’ advice helps us score a deal, and if you’re not hacking a deal then you’re just a sucker who’s overpaying.

Like influencer content, hacks are accessible on a democratic level. The resulting landscape has yielded a litany of hacks that can be comically unnecessary, not unlike the multitude of contemporary products on the market. Fishing for hacks is like walking into a Poundland; one emerges an hour later with a bag full of commodities you never knew you needed. Alas, the more developed, the world becomes, the more hacks will follow.
The question is, do we actually need all these hacks? With every short cut, what are we missing out on? Like the slow food or slow fashion movements, I propose consideration of the anti-hack. What would happen if we shunned loopholes and embraced the panoramic, sometimes convoluted nature of life – and instead of hacking it perhaps just allowed it to be as long or complicated as it truly is. Maybe not everything should be hacked. For now, we can only keep surviving with the knowledge we have: be the short way or the long way.
