Stop Apologizing for Your Binge Watches - They're More Meaningful Than You Know
We've all had that moment: scrolling through the Oscar nominations and realizing how many celebrated films we've missed while binge-watching something entirely different. Maybe it's Squid Game (despite promising yourself you'd stop after one episode) or trying to figure out why people love Silo or Severance so much.
These choices matter. When someone commit hours of their attention to a specific kind of story - choosing it over endless scrolling or bite-sized content - they're telling us something about how they see the world. Not just their preferences, but their psychological relationship with storytelling itself. These choices tell us exactly how to make work that matters to them.
Here's what makes this interesting: movie genres can tell us who people really are. Not just their demographics or what they click on, but how they think and feel. Each genre preference is a window into how someone processes ideas and emotions. In a world of endless tiktok-length content, that's powerful stuff - it lets us be bold in ways that actually connect. We're not here to make ads that look like movies; we're here to understand why certain stories grab people and don't let go.
The real question isn't whether we should use this data - it's how brave we're willing to be with it. Understanding your audience has always been crucial. But understanding how they process stories? That helps us create work that sticks.
Look at how this plays out across different audiences. Horror fans score higher in neuroticism - but that's not a weakness, it's an opportunity. These are people who actively seek out emotional complexity. They don't just tolerate tension; they're drawn to it. What if instead of making every ad feel safe, we created work that embraced that complexity?
Sports audiences tell us something unexpected: behind their outgoing nature lies a deep appreciation for detail. While we've been making high-energy spots full of action, we've missed their appetite for craft and precision. They're community-minded, yes, but they also care about the fine points. Imagine combining both those traits in our storytelling.
The pattern keeps revealing surprises. Sci-fi and fantasy fans show high openness to new experiences - not just to new ideas, but to new ways of receiving those ideas. While we're often scared to try new things, these audiences are actually hungry for innovation. They're not just accepting of experimental approaches; they're looking for them.
For those of us working with AI and algorithms, this gives us a better way forward. Instead of using technology to reinforce what's already working, we can use it to find and amplify new creative possibilities. Think of personalization that doesn't just match content to preferences, but understands and responds to how different people process stories differently.
What makes this approach powerful is how it connects data to real human response. Each genre preference tells us something about how people process and engage with the world. By understanding these patterns, we can create work that doesn't just reach the right audiences, but connects with them in ways that matter. That's the difference between targeting people and actually moving them.
The next time you find yourself defending your latest K-drama choice to that friend who only watches A24 films, remember: you're not just revealing your taste - you're showing how your brain processes the world. Maybe they need their stories wrapped in artistic ambiguity, while you need yours served with a side of dramatic betrayal and children's games turned deadly. Neither is wrong - they're just different neural pathways to the same destination: meaningful stories that stick. And that's exactly what we should be creating. In a post-tiktok world, understanding these psychological pathways isn't just good strategy - it's our map to making work that matters. Even if it takes a few plot twists to get there.
Chart source: https://www.stevestewartwilliams.com/p/manterrupting-six-sex-differences