If you want to stare into the deepest depths of my soul, you’ll find it in the iPhone Notes app. Tucked between Hayu – the streaming app I use to watch episodes of Real Housewives in HD – and my calendar, the Notes app contains information about me that no one else knows. There are long, meticulously-drafted messages I considered sending my boyfriend to explain why he, not I, was in the wrong. There are thoughts I’ve had after a few too many vodka sodas, or drifting in and out of sleep. There are lists of ideas and plans that I don’t quite feel ready to share with the world.
I’m not the only one. Matt Healy from pop band The 1975 said in an interview last year: “I’d sooner have somebody read every text message I’ve ever sent than my Notes. There’s some really personal shit in there.” A friend of mine tells me they use the app to note down things they like about themselves to look at when they’re feeling low. Others write shopping lists, daily calorie counts and even track their menstrual cycles. One of my Twitter followers tells me that, to them, the app is “part diary, part to-do list, part silent therapist.”
Given that so many of us use the Notes app for our deepest secrets, it is surprising that screengrabs from the app appear on social media so regularly – sometimes revealing important information. In February, White House press secretary Sarah Sanders posted a Notes screengrab to Twitter telling the world that Donald Trump planned to declare a national emergency. As a result, the Notes app now occupies the somewhat unique position of being simultaneously one of the most public and private methods of communication.
We usually see Notes app screengrabs online when a celebrity messes up and takes to social media to put things right. Lady Gaga used it to address her collaboration with disgraced musician R Kelly on Twitter, posting a screengrab from the Notes app to say that she would be removing their collaboration “Do What U Want” from streaming platforms. When YouTuber Logan Paul faced global condemnation for filming the body of a suicide victim in Japan, he sought refuge in a Notes app apology too. Actor Armie Hammer apologised with a Notes app screengrab for criticising people posting “grief selfies” after Marvel creator Stan Lee’s death (he said he’d try to work on his “Twitter impulse control” from now on). Kendall Jenner did the same after her clothing line insensitively used images of deceased rappers, as did Bella Hadid in the aftermath of Fyre Festival, which she’d promoted on Instagram. Lena Dunham has made so many apologies via the Notes app that someone even made a parody Twitter account.
Sometimes the vibe is less conciliatory. Lana Del Rey used the Notes app to push back against those criticising her for performing a show in Israel – although she returned a few days later to announce she’d decided against it after all. In February, Ariana Grande used the Notes app to defend herself after a Twitter user suggested that a heterosexual artist headlining Manchester Pride, an LGBTQ-focused event, amounted to “exploitation” of the LGBTQ community.
In 2019, when a celebrity makes an error or wants to speak directly, why is it that a Notes screengrab will soon follow? Why has that unmistakable light grey backdrop become such an online cliché?
Firstly, there’s an obvious functionality. Twitter, where celebrities tend to be most active, has a 280-character limit. A screengrab from the Notes app means they can use more characters. Yet Twitter threads are still an option, and it is possible to screengrab from other programs, such as Microsoft Word – even if it means opening the dreaded laptop.
When celebrities post a Notes app screengrab to apologise for a public error, it is the antithesis to statements given to the press via representatives, which was the normal mode of communication before celebrities were active on social media. Notes app apologies often use language most people would use when apologising to friends, sometimes even expletives. Hammer, for instance, described himself as an “asshat”, before saying: “I apologise from the bottom of my heart.” Sometimes they even feature grammatical or spelling errors, just like a message from a flawed, “normal” person would do. “See,” they want us to think: “They’re just like me!”
But is all as it seems? Sometimes the illusion of normality fails to convince people. In 2016, when Taylor Swift became embroiled in an epic feud with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, she took to Instagram to post a statement. Swift’s statement, written on the Notes app, denied Kardashian’s insinuation that she had lied about giving West permission to rap about her in his song “Famous” (though it did little in face of videos, posted by Kardashian, which appeared to back up at least part of the reality star’s side of the story).
Swift’s statement was a bit rambly and vague, but part of the reason why it failed to sway people was that, in the top left corner, you could see the “back to search” option in the app. This suggested to some people that the statement may not have been written in the moment but could instead have been drafted some time before, perhaps in preparation for the media storm. At the time, popular-culture writer Anna Leszkiewicz at the New Statesman wrote that the Kardashian vs Swift duel summed up a battle of two “PR styles”. Kardashian’s “access all areas” style, honed from her origins on reality TV, in this case trumped Swift’s more controlled, staged and distant approach to social media. The “back to search”, Leszkiewicz writes, revealed Swift’s “PR machine whirring in the background”. Given that people use the Notes app because it seems authentic and personal, Swift’s seemingly calculated apology shattered that illusion – and people felt conned.
The Kardashians, who have posted their fair share of public apologies too, have an online philosophy that partly explains the meteoric rise of the Notes screengrab. In a time where corporate written copy surrounds us, arriving in our inboxes on a daily daily basis, the Kardashians have become experts at promoting themselves and their products using a friendly, relatable brand voice. “People are very good at recognising the source and the persuasive intent, which is why the majority of advertising is not successful,” says communications professor Jennifer Lueck. Many celebrities have Twitter timelines full of obviously sponsored content that reads like it was written by PR reps, but the Kardashian approach couldn’t be more different – they even have their own vocabulary of words and phrases. “It is definitely a dynamic that comes very close to a perceived friendship. But it’s completely one-sided,” Lueck explains.
Communications scholars Donald Horton and Richard Wohl call this “para-social interaction”, a term coined in 1950s to describe the feeling of friendship and closeness people feel to celebrities they’ve never met. When Kim K or Kylie Jenner speak to their fans, they treat them like friends. Although we don’t know them, the messages they send – even when they’re advertising make-up products – seem like a recommendation from a pal.
Notes apologies are a clear example of the “Kardashian” effect. Rather than maintaining distance, celebrities are increasingly using this communication method to feed into their fans’ desire for a friendship and individual dialogue.
This is, of course, nothing but a fantasy that they are happy to maintain in exchange for their fans’ devotion. Do we really think Gaga’s R Kelly statement, sent to 78 million followers on Twitter just weeks before the Academy Awards – one of the biggest moments of her career – wasn’t run by her management? Do we believe Kendall Jenner or Bella Hadid’s own apologies weren’t checked by lawyers to ensure they hadn’t implicated themselves legally? Yet, despite the likelihood of outside interference, the Notes app gives the illusion of unrehearsed, honest and intimate communication. Even the supremely untrusted Trump administration, which coined the term “alternative facts”, appears to have cottoned on that the Notes app screengrab has become the de facto method for seeming credible and sincere online.
Just as influencers promote products, a Notes app screengrab is an advert of a different sort. It might not be honking detox tea, lipstick or protein shakes, but it advertises a narrative and, hopefully, a statement posted by a genuine, “normal” person. By using a recognisable format that most people associate with their private, innermost thoughts, celebrities use screengrabs from the Notes app to encourage us to believe what we’re being told. By blurring the lines between public and private, they hope we’ll decide to buy the story they’re selling.
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
