An intersectional breakdown of the social media phenomenon taking over the world, one invite at a time…

No disrespect or judgment to those reading, but unless lockdown had you so secluded and despondent that you had zero interaction with friends, family, or even your phone, you have likely heard of Clubhouse; the invite-only social networking app focused on just one of the human senses – your voice.

The concept of Clubhouse is so straightforward and simple, it’s a surprise that an app like this did not make its way to the top of the list of reasons for increased Screen Time, sooner. It’s simple – download the app, create a username, wait for an invite from someone you know who’s already got the golden ticket, and voila, “drop into” a room of your choice and listen to strangers (sometimes, famous people) chat about topics you’re interested in. If likened to a real-life, pre-COVID-19 scenario, it’s the equivalent of passing by a group of people in a coffee shop talking about the latest Marvel movie and grabbing a chair to sit with them and either contribute to or be a fly on the wall in their conversation (although in real life, this would likely be socially unacceptable and full-on creepy… pre-COVID or post.)

Ever since its exclusive iOS-only launch back in April last year (don’t worry Android lovers, as of May 2021, the app is now also available to download from the Play Store), Clubhouse has caught the eyes of not just the VAGUE community, but influential entrepreneurs and celebrities alike; Mark Zuckerberg, Oprah Winfrey and Elon Musk to name a few.

But how exactly does a part-radio, part-conference, part-podcast app like Clubhouse go from zero to a valuation of $4 billion in just over a year? Is it the invite-only feature which adds a sense of exclusivity for its users? Is it the ability for “normal folk” to join rooms hosted by a cadre of celebrities and listen to them chat in real-time? Or is Clubhouse just another pandemic-boosted platform with one foot already in the grave?

Let’s start with the invitation-only hook.

I’ll be honest. When I first got my invite for Clubhouse in February this year, it brought with it the sense of joy you see Charlie Bucket feel when he finds the Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Although the co-founders of Clubhouse, Paul Davison and Rohan Seth, claim in a blog posted July 2020, that the app was never intended to be exclusive and the reason for the invite-only restriction was down to being a small team and wanting to grow a community slowly instead of “10x-ing the user base overnight”, who’s to say there’s no consumer psychology at play here? After all, it’s human nature to want something you can’t have, as it amplifies our desires further, causing us to act irrationally and reach for that forbidden fruit. 

In fact, in a world of Netflix, Deliveroo, Uber, Amazon, and more, the speed at which we get our first-world necessities served to us is key; waiting to be let into an app completely goes against these highly-set expectations. 

Perhaps this is exactly the reason why Clubhouse invites have started being sold on Reddit forums, eBay, and Craigslist. The average going rate for these invites is just $20-50 so it’s not making millionaires out of anyone just yet, but some ads on eBay list prices as high as $20,000! The craziest moment came in February this year, when shortly after Elon Musk’s interview on The Good Time Show (one of the many late-night talk shows available to listen for free on the app) broke Clubhouse’s cap of 5,000 listeners, and the hashtag #ClubhouseInviteCode started trending on Chinese social media site Weibo, with invites being sold for 150-400 yuan ($23 - $61) on e-commerce sites, Xianyu and Taobao. 

Bear in mind this is despite Clubhouse not technically being available to download in China (although you can still use a VPN or non-Chinese Apple account to download and use the app). It may also come as no surprise to readers that as of February 8 2021, Chinese authorities have officially blocked access to the app after it attracted high numbers of the Chinese population to “binge free expression” and engage in uncensored, open, and free cross-border conversations on topics such as democracy, politics, and gender issues.

On the other hand, as if selling invites for some easy dosh is not enough to degrade the founders’ intentions, cybercriminals have got in on the action too; creating fake versions of Clubhouse which point to convincing versions of the website and trick innocent users into downloading and installing their malware-ridden application. Once the fake .APK file (Android users beware, you’re the ones being targeted most) is on your phone, a banking Trojan by the name of BlackRock starts intercepting and tampering with anything from your SMS messages and notifications to your accessibility settings. Reports say the malware is capable of stealing users’ login credentials for “no less than 458 online services”, including big names such as Facebook, Amazon, Netflix, Twitter, Lloyds Bank, and more; ironically, some of these top tech companies (especially Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, and Spotify) are among those creating Clubhouse clones themselves!

So, what’s the draw?

You may be wondering at this point why it is that despite the Internet exploiting and monetising Clubhouse in ways it was never intended to, it continues to trend with millions still obsessing or waiting to be let in – the answer is simple, celebrities.

The assortment of public and immensely popular figures to have embraced the Clubhouse platform is indicative of its wide-ranging appeal. Names you may or may not have seen mentioned as having popped in for chats of varying impact include, as aforementioned a couple of times now, Elon Musk, Drake, Mark Zuckerberg, Van Jones, MC Hammer, Oprah Winfrey, Vanilla Ice, Meek Mill, 21 Savage, Zendaya, Serena Williams, Lupe Fiasco, and many, many more.

It’s not just the chance to chat with or listen to a famous figure speak in real-time that’s the selling factor – just like VAGUE, the Clubhouse community is also incredibly creative! Each night on Clubhouse, there are now thousands of rooms filled with people hosting game shows, recapping NBA or NFL games, singing operas and prayers, discussing philosophy, meeting other musicians, sharing travel tips, running support groups, and meditating together. 

One of the most heart-warming, jaw-dropping, and innovative use cases of Clubhouse that the VAGUE community has come across so far has been orchestrated by Noelle Chestnut Whitmore, who over the course of a month or so, collaborated with 40 strangers across four different countries to audition, rehearse, and host a full-blown, flawlessly executed, musical production of The Lion King for thousands of listeners to have eargasms on Boxing Day 2020.

Where there is freedom, there is chaos…

Alas, where on one hand, Black creatives are pushing the boundaries and finding new ways to explore and expand the app, Clubhouse has fallen victim to the same shortcomings as any other app or piece of content on the Internet: racism. There’s always racism. 

In September last year, what was supposed to be a 3-hour discussion on anti-Semitism in Black communities eventually devolved into anti-Semitic comments, frustrating Jewish listeners who felt the event could have, and should have, been more actively moderated. The number of intense and abusive conversations around race, ethnicity, gender, and religion rose so sharply after this event, that Clubhouse’s founders had to publicly address these issues by instituting community moderation guidelines.

Moderation issues are common on any digital platform, but Clubhouse’s voice-only medium poses even greater challenges as there is no easy way to ensure whoever joins a room will not start spewing harassment and abusive language to the audience. Moderators are given the options to silence or fully remove a user from a room if they want to but given that you’re not allowed to record conversations (although there are workarounds), even when there’s a legitimate incident reported, there’s no fool-proof way to back it up with evidence. Unless a violation or offence reoccurs, there is just no way to track it.

User-led moderation is a great solution to the overall problem of content control; however, moderation and freedom-of-speech are two conflicting sides of the same coin: you can’t give users more control and expect them not to misuse these privileges at the same time.

Because there are no strict qualifications or criteria required to be a moderator, it’s very much just a luck-of-the-draw in terms of which type of person you get leading the conversation in a room. Granted some moderators are fostering healthy environments which generate intelligent conversations, there are others who have made it a mission to cultivate poisonous communities which promote sexism, racism and bullying.

Disappointingly, but unsurprisingly, it’s Black women who have, time and again, been made the target of such communities. The examples are countless: comedian Kevin Hart gaslighting a Black woman who criticised his use of the word “hoe” to refer to his own daughter in a Netflix special, white Silicon Valley venture capitalists making casual sexist remarks towards a New York Times journalist named Taylor Lorenz, a South-Florida businessman asking a woman in a room full of entrepreneurs to go “big and hard” with him in Miami – the list goes on. As aforementioned, the nature of the app inherently allows most, if not all of the figures involved in these confrontations to get away with what they say, with zero accountability. The situation is akin to the old philosophical thought experiment: "if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" – except in Clubhouse’s case, “If you weren’t in the room yourself, did anything controversial even take place?”

Nikki Onafuye, a freelance writer at Gal-Dem, has portrayed her own, and fellow Black women’s’ Clubhouse experiences in detail, proving the app has only helped amplify the toxic interactions Black women already experience in their daily lives. In fact, there’s no doubt that as it continues to grow and gain more users, the rampant racism, misogyny, and disinformation which currently plagues major social media platforms will continue migrating to Clubhouse.

Despite the fake clones and associated security risks, casual racism and sexism, and lack of moderation issues, even now, co-founder Paul Davison says that there are “millions more people on the waitlist”. 

How can that be?! One word – timing.

Clubhouse came to light at a period in our existence where humans were craving interaction – especially those who have had to suffer the consequences of lockdown all alone. Not to mention that ever since the app’s launch on Android in India on May 21, Clubhouse has gone through another unexpected growth phase in both its popularity, and user base; it’s clear that Davison and Seth have their eyes set on expansion and monetisation plans, which at this point, really is their best bet if they want to keep the ever-growing list of competitors at bay. 

One of the stepping stones to make these plans successful is the introduction of initiatives such as the ‘Creator First’ Accelerator programme (results for which were announced last month). The programme enables creators on the platform to receive a $5000-per-month stipend for 3 months of gear, content, and creative support, to help them create engaging series; and in turn, drive more listeners to the platform. With other monetisation features such as the ability to send direct payments to creators already available in the US, it’s clear that Clubhouse is understanding the importance of catering to and putting its creator community first. 

However, whether Clubhouse is truly geared and ready to have its “YouTube moment”, remains to be seen…