Imagine waking up every evening, putting on your happy face, walking over to your immaculately laid out recording studio and… Enthusiastically unwrapping that mysterious package someone just sent you… You have no idea what it is, no really! You don’t! But wait, it is the last Funko-Pop you were missing to have a complete set of the new Star Wars™ range, brought to you by Disney™! Such a surprise. You turn enthusiastically to the camera, holding the figure up at just the right angle and squealing with delight, little tears of joy in the corner of your eyes as you watch the comments roll in on the livestream you are running to [your streaming service of choice].

The occasional less enthusiastic comment is quickly drowned in a stream of relentless positivity from the thousands of young fans who tune in religiously to watch you tear open new toys, every night, always with a smile and a joyous cry. You put the toy down beside all the others on the shelf behind you, and sit down at the desk.

Unboxing on livestream gets views, sure, but the thing that separates you from the crowd is that you engage with the fans, let them know that you really care. What could have been a slowly teased out 5-7 minutes of unboxing turns into a couple hours of chatting online. You pay particular attention to those sparkling names that indicate silver- and gold-tier patreons (they send you a lot of money, every month, they need some direct contact to keep them hooked!).

You have this amazing life — free stuff and copious ego-affirming messages from your adoring fanbase. So why are you so unhappy, and why don’t you stop?

Livestreaming, particularly for successful streamers, can quickly become a form of emotional labour, in which the streamer begins to feel a sense of responsibility to their audience, reinforced through constant interaction with them. A streamer who regularly receives messages about how much they mean to their audience, how their streams have improved the fans’ lives or saved them from depression… can feel selfish to even think about stopping, even after reaching the point at which they would rather eat the next box than pretend to be excited about opening it. One possible explanation then, of why streamers don’t stop (and this may seem counter-intuitive) is that they are good Hedonistic Utilitarians, caught in the clutches of… the utility monster!

Hedonists believe that pleasure is the only thing that ultimately makes our lives go well for us and that pain is the only thing that …

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