Is YouTube becoming another soulless streaming service powered by regular people?

Is YouTube becoming another soulless streaming service powered by regular people?
Current image of my YouTube explore page

Back in 2013, I uploaded my first video to YouTube under the name BuddyCrafted. It was simple. Just me, a screen recorder, Minecraft, and the excitement of being part of something bigger. YouTube used to feel like a place where anyone could share their creativity and connect with people around the world. It wasn’t about production value or sponsorships. It was about the weird, funny, and genuine moments that regular people created in their bedrooms, garages, and basements.

But somewhere along the way, YouTube stopped feeling like that.


Now, when you scroll through your recommended feed, you’re hit with ultra-polished videos backed by entire production teams. Studios drop millions into one video, and creators are pushed aside by companies that can buy their way into every trending page. It feels like YouTube forgot what made it special, the “you” in YouTube.

For small creators like me, it’s become exhausting. You can spend hours writing, editing, and uploading something original only to have it buried under corporate content. The algorithm rewards retention, clicks, and consistency. All things that massive teams can master through analytics and budgets that smaller creators could only dream of.

What used to be a community now feels like a competition.

In the early days, YouTube was chaotic but pure. It was a digital playground for creativity, not a marketplace. The magic came from the idea that anyone could blow up overnight just by making something that stuck. There wasn’t a formula. There wasn’t a business model. There were just creators and viewers. That one on one connection with the audience was enough.


Today, YouTube feels more like another streaming service. You’re served “safe” content made to please advertisers, not audiences. The individuality is fading away. Everything is optimized, overproduced, and pre-approved. Yet the irony is that YouTube still depends on regular people, the vloggers, the gamers, the DIYers, the storytellers, to keep the platform alive. Without them, it’s just another Netflix clone.

For me, the passion for uploading faded once I realized how much of the platform’s soul had changed. I’ve shifted my focus to the bigger picture, understanding the full circle of content creation, advertising, and where viewership actually comes from. It’s about more than just making a video now. It’s about how that video fits into the web of storytelling, graphics, and strategy that drives real connection.


I’ll always appreciate what YouTube gave me, a place to learn, share, and grow. If it keeps heading in this direction, it’s going to lose the very thing that made it different in the first place, the human touch.

If you'd like, you should check out my channel, BuddyCrafted, to see the kind of content YouTube used to be about, when creativity mattered more than a million-dollar budget. (I’m looking at you, Mr.Beast)