Of Spoilers

When I started learning to avoid spoilers I started learning how to engage with media anew. I was no longer distracted and disengaged and instead was open and receptive to what I was watching. 

I used to be indifferent to spoilers, clicking on spoiler tags with lusty abandon. I listened to podcasts chock full o’ spoilers with real greedy zeal. And consumed interviews and reviews and deep-dives and youtube essays all on media I was yet to experience myself. It corresponded with a period in my life where I was generally enjoying media less and spending more time second screening. I wouldn’t be so rash as to equate correlation with causation, but there was certainly a relationship between exposing myself to spoilers and the quality of my enjoyment and engagement with media. 

I then started dating someone who has a dogmatic approach to spoilers: they were things to be avoided like the plague. As I spent more time with him, I began to slowly see the joy of approaching media in this spoiler-free way. I began to enjoy media a little more. 

Sometime ago, then, I decided to begin a little experiment: for the next few months I would follow his inspiration and avoid any and all spoilers for media I had even the vaguest interest in one day consuming.¹Which given my broad tastes was almost everything! I stopped spending time with as many media-focussed podcasts and youtube channels. I became really quite skillful at looking away whenever a possible spoiler had breached my perceptual firewall. The art of seeing without taking in meaning is a necessary skill for any would-be spoiler-avoider, such is their regretful proliferation in the world. Spoilers have a second-hand smoke pervasiveness to them. 

This is a good time to define just what I mean by spoiler, a term that really demonstrates that the devil is in the detail. I have found the following definition works for me: a spoiler is any information about a piece of media. So, quite broad. It captures things like cast and plot and setting, but also less commonly thought of spoiler categories like director or mechanics and the like. Obviously it encompasses marketing efforts like trailers and announcements, as well as general discussion or speculation of the media in question, too. I even try to steer away from spoilers in face-to-face discussions with friends. While some folk make an attempt to cut their discussions into non-spoilery and spoilery sections, in practice this never really works given everyone has a different definition and tolerance to spoilers. I have found that any more qualified definition—that is one that has some gaps—becomes quickly self-defeating.

Given the context of this essay so far you’ll not be surprised at the results of my little experiment: I found avoiding spoilers led to me enjoying media a lot more. Even a bit of knowledge dims the joy of discovery and takes away the power of surprise. Because I didn’t know what was going to happen next, emotional story beats caught me unaware in a way that meant they really landed their emotional impact. By reducing spoilers I was increasing my enjoyment of media.²A curious modern phenomenon: the schism between those who get primary enjoyment out of experiencing media and those who get primary enjoyment from discussing media. Obviously, the latter camp is entirely dependent on spoilers.

I’m reminded yet again of some wisdom from my psychologist: we have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable to develop fulfilling relationships. At first I thought he meant just with people, but now I realise the advice is applicable far more broadly than that. By avoiding spoilers you are engaging with media in a more open and vulnerable way. Spoiling yourself robs the power of any sort of dramatic sting or impact, and so spoiling things strikes me as quite a defensive way to engage with media. 

I’m drawing a long bow, but I wonder if there are connections between raising levels of anxiety and a propensity to indulge in spoilers: anxiety takes away our sense of control, but spoilers can (at least, superficially) give us a sense of control. And if the unknown makes us anxious, it’s natural that we seek out spoilers to try to regulate our anxiety. There can also be sometimes a social cost to be out of the loop of whatever is popular, something that can provoke anxiety. I hope this line of thought is not seen as an attempt to pathologise a preference, but rather understand why some folk are drawn to spoilers.    

The more I care about something, the greater I attempt to avoiding finding any information about it. This lets me experience media rather innocently, and more as the creator intended. It is a frequent occurrence these days: a writer or developer or director almost pleading with the audience to avoid spoilers and to engage with their work in a spoiler free manner. While I generally think the author of a text doesn’t get to control or dictate how another accesses or interprets that text, I do think there is something valid about their advice in this case.³I’ll pick up again on this view of the author not getting to tell us how to enjoy things when I eventually get around to writing about difficulty in games. 

Delayed gratification is an important mental skill, albeit one strictly at odds with our modern age and, in particular, the need for immediacy and instant pleasure sold to us by capitalism. By avoiding spoilers we sacrifice a little temporary pleasure now for a much greater pay off down the track. By practising the art of avoiding spoilers, we can refine and improve our ability to delay our gratification, and at the same time are rewarded with thrilling, rich moments of discovery. Delayed gratification is linked with anticipation. We anticipate things more, in general, the less we know about them (compare how you feel about trying a new restaurant with one you’ve been to already: you still may anticipate the familiar, but nothing compares with the tingle of the new and unknown). While some small degree of spoilers may heighten one’s anticipation, too much will deaden anticipation. In many ways, our ability to enjoy media—and art—are skills we can, and should, build consciously like we would build any skill. 

Next time you’re excited about a piece of media, try avoiding spoilers as an experiment: and see if it improves your enjoyment and sense of engagement, as it has improved mine.  

Notes

• 1
  Which given my broad tastes was almost everything!
• 2
  A curious modern phenomenon: the schism between those who get primary enjoyment out of experiencing media and those who get primary enjoyment from discussing media. Obviously, the latter camp is entirely dependent on spoilers.
• 3
  I’ll pick up again on this view of the author not getting to tell us how to enjoy things when I eventually get around to writing about difficulty in games.