The Rise Of Passive Sweating
Sweating with no physical exertion or human output, but a spike in cortisol levels and deterioration in your mood.
Around Thanksgiving, I wanted TikTok to be banned. It would be official on January 19th, and I prayed it went through.
I deleted TikTok over a year ago and never considered redownloading it. I am not virtuous or above it. Some people make not having TikTok their whole personality, but I try to be conscious, which begs the question, why do I care? For me, it isn’t an argument about freedom of speech, governmental control, or anything else. It was personal.
About a year ago, I had sunk into the algorithm. I was scrolling, fed my typical cooking videos, 30-second blurbs about gym culture, and favorite TikTok creators. The scariest part is I submitted to the ordeal of being known, and it wasn’t a human who knew me well, it was my algorithm. I spent an hour on TikTok some days. I realized my obsessive consumption of the app was a time suck. In a bout of frustration, I deleted it from my phone.
Sometimes, I can’t resist the pull of the algorithm either. I land on Instagram Reels before the fifth video my algorithm feeds me is a guy asking Subway to toast his sandwich 35 times. On the 35th time, he gets told to leave. It was my cue to log off Reels for the day. But if I didn’t have TikTok on my phone, why does the ban matter to me?
Every year my high school friends and I play fantasy football. It is enjoyable and a great way to keep in touch. Each year it becomes more competitive. To encourage competitiveness and discourage people with a failing team losing interest, we instituted a last place punishment. I’m sure you have seen the punishments on social media.
Last place finishers sit in Waffle House for 24 hours with every waffle eaten taking an hour off their time. Some start a lemonade stand and can’t close up shop until they make $50. Last year, the last place finisher in my league did a stand-up comedy set. The punishments are evolving. This year the punishment was to make 30 TikToks in 30 days. It wasn’t anything egregious. My friends are reasonable, but the one request was to sprinkle in dancing across the 30 videos – TikTok gained popularity for the platform’s viral dances.
I started the fantasy season with zero wins and five losses. The worst thing that could happen. Fantasy Football became stressful. It was nerve-wracking to watch the games. I hoped that some players had historic games and others had pathetic performances.
I accepted this might be the start of my TikTok career. I began to sweat, but I wasn’t dead. I righted the ship and got my team to four wins and seven losses. Last place was determined by the worst team in the regular season. It came down to the last week. Myself against a friend. We were both 4-9. I was sweating. It was consuming. I lost the final week. It crushed me. I needed a TikTok ban. It would invalidate the punishment.
However, my friend lost too. I was saved. I won the last-place tiebreaker for the most points scored in the season. I wasn’t summoned to the TikTok algorithm.
However, I spent most of the season sweating. Sweat didn’t pour down my face, but I felt it. I was passively sweating. Sweating with no physical exertion or human output, but a spike in cortisol levels and deterioration in your mood. It was mentally taxing. Cheering on players and rooting against teams you don’t control.
“Sweating” is popular in the gambling communities. You place a bet, your emotional state is cranked to 100, and you start panicking about the outcome. You “sweat” it out. It is so popularized that some sportsbooks offer “No-Sweat Bets”. If you lose, you get your money back. If you win, you pocket your winnings. It is a “can’t lose” situation and it is all part of the rise of passive sweating.
We liken sweating out a bet, a memecoin, or a merch drop to the moisture dripping down your face when you go for a run, but here’s the difference: sweating with zero output is no benefit to you, only harm. It doesn’t boost the immune system, rid of the toxins in your system, or improve your wellness. Instead, it raises your cortisol and corrodes your mental health.
It ruins our happiness. It drains us. People put on cinematic performances when their bet loses. They shout at the TV, “Vegas is rigged!” or “Vegas knows!” They become delirious when their favorite memecoin gets rug pulled. They post evil things when they lose their spot in the Ticketmaster queue. People become enraged with the uncontrollable. They tweet at players who don’t win their fantasy matchup. They pester their favorite internet personality when they can’t buy the apparel in their drop.
People passively sweat what others are doing when they can't do it themselves.
I heard this quote, “There are those who watch others live and those who live.” We become infatuated with a bet because our football dreams didn’t go as planned. We watch vlogs and the Bachelorette because we need validation that our love lives are not struggling alone. We buy Trumpcoin because we can’t believe the dumb ways people get rich and think we should be able to as well.
Passive sweating consumes us. It dictates our mood, our agency, and the value of our days. It is an unseen force that treats us like a puppet and tells us how to act. It strips away our decency.
We have started selling off our experiences and losing the novelty, protection, and joy that being present provides. It doesn’t need to be about money. We don’t always have to bet on an outcome. We don’t need markets on everything. I foresee how much more volatile and emotional the election becomes now with legal betting markets.
The cruelty of passive sweating and an online world is we can watch others do it, too. Barstool Gambling Cave lets you watch adults go ballistic on a livestream while they sweat their bets. Yes, you watch someone else watch a game. Marty Mush can’t believe South Alabama couldn’t beat Old Dominion, a game where no one can name a single player on either team. Why are people watching a stream because Big Cat has the Ohio State Notre Dame over? Who cares? It is cheap dopamine. It is always needing to have skin in the game. But we can enjoy a game, a drop, or an event without any of this.
Life is less about financializing everything we do, showing the world, and watching others do the same. The people who thrive live no matter how weird, goofy, or stupid it may seem to others. They don’t bargain off their experiences or watch others live.
Passive sweating is draining because it is all downside, no upside. It makes you irrational when you otherwise wouldn’t be. It makes you care about the Virginia Military Institute versus Citadel basketball game when you shouldn’t. You get angry when Caitlin Clark dribbles out the clock to win the game for your team but doesn’t cash your seven leg parlay. When Maddie chooses Jeremy over Scottie on The Bachelorette you are besides yourself.
I am not saying we shouldn’t have passions, hobbies, or defend the things we believe. Heck, I am not even saying we shouldn’t bet, play fantasy football, or watch reality TV. These things should be fun, but passive sweating is on a different level. It is not enjoyable. Your team wins the game, but your 16-leg parlay didn’t hit so you leave feeling numb. Your candidate wins their election, but you didn’t profit off their memecoin, which makes the victory lose its luster. A passionate fan screams for their team because they want their team to win not because they want their bet to hit. A reasonable bettor loses a bet and moves on, and gambles an amount that doesn’t make them scream like a two year-old toddler.
The internet and the over-financialization of everything tricked us into trying to get lucky instead of getting active. You twiddle your thumbs waiting for motivation, the 16-leg parlay that will make you rich, the next memecoin that will get pumped, or the next love of your life from an algorithm you pay for. It vaporizes your agency and increases stress.
It has an economic impact. The more energy you place on things out of your control, the less energy you can pour into things within your control. It grinds you to pieces. Your money dwindles. Your mental health deteriorates. You affect those around you.
Stop including passive sweating in everything. Start finding joy in the small things. Your team wins a game. Your favorite player scores a career-high. The Bachelorette finds a lover even when you don’t think they are meant for each other. Don’t let the over-financialization of everything make you lose sight of what you care about and where you want to direct your energy. Don’t let it make you become a worse version of yourself. Don’t let passive sweating replace you getting out there in the world, physically exerting energy, and breaking a real sweat.
The best way to break a sweat is physically, not passively.
Appreciate you reading. I love to hear from you!
-Scantron