There’s a video I came across last week titled, “TikTok Was the American Dream." I can’t think of a more fitting way to describe the role this Chinese-based platform has played over the past six years, nor is the irony lost on me.

I’ve been an active creator on TikTok since 2022 growing an audience of 200k+ and feeling the impact of “going viral.” As a young-ish millennial, I’ve used every social media platform since the early 2000s, but none has had as much an impact as Tiktok.

I’ve built two businesses almost entirely through TikTok, reshaped my agency’s trajectory, and met incredible people along the way. Several of my closest connections today stem from TikTok, where we first bonded over similar content and interests.

But more than my personal experience, I’ve seen TikTok’s near limitless impact on others.

1. I know a company that was near bankruptcy that turned its fortunes around with a handful of viral videos. Today, they generate over $10 million annually, all thanks to TikTok’s distribution power.

2. I know a creator who comes from a modest background who started with makeup tutorials and now earns millions annually, unlocking opportunities for herself and her family that once seemed unimaginable.

3. I know of a college student who was working at Chipotle to pay off student debts and made in one month on Tiktok shop what she otherwise would have in a year. For stay-at-home parents, students in ever-growing debt, and even 9-5 employees looking for additional income, the possibility to earn life-changing sums of money has been a reprieve amid rising inequality and the cost-of-living crisis.

To call TikTok an app for “dancing videos” is to be blind to the reality of its power and the opportunity it has created for millions of Americans. With each video, there is a possibility to be seen by millions, if not tens of millions, and with that, the opportunity to parlay relative obscurity into a following and opportunity.

The American Dream, brought to you by a Chinese company, is now being killed by America.

The Real Reason the U.S. Wants to Ban TikTok
There are reportedly 170 million Americans on TikTok and the U.S. government is positioning a potential ban as a matter of national security and consumer privacy — an irony too great as just last week Apple settled a $95m class action law-suit where it was alleged that Siri listens to Americans conversations to serve more targeted ads.

Having followed this conversation over the past two years, and reading between the lines, there are two  reasons why the US wants to ban Tiktok:

1. TikTok’s Engagement Threatens U.S. Tech Giants
TikTok’s algorithm is unparalleled. Micro-influencers can find an engagement rate nearly 5x on Tiktok vs. Meta and Youtube — a signal that the algorithm is great at getting your content to the relevant viewer. This creates a virtuous cycle — the more you scroll, like and share, the better the algorithm is at understanding your interests, pulling more share of your screen time.

Unfortunately for Tiktok, every hour spent on its app is an hour away from time spent on properties from Google, Meta and Netflix — and with a combined market cap that exceeds $4 trillion, Tiktok has become an existential threat.

2. The U.S. Government’s Loss of Influence
Since the dawn of mass media, governments have understood the power of exerting influence over these channels and controlling narratives. In World War II, the U.S. Office of War Information dictated messaging through posters, radio, and newsreels to shape public opinion. Later, the FCC’s Fairness Doctrine regulated broadcast content to ensure a balance of viewpoints, but it also served as a tool for controlling the flow of information.

Fast forward to today, and the playbook hasn’t changed—just the medium. Just this week, Zuck talked about how the Biden Administration pressured Meta to remove content as it related to the Covid vaccines.

Social platforms are the new battleground, where
influence is wielded not through direct censorship but through algorithmic adjustments, restricted keywords, and content suppression.

What are some of the conversations happening on TikTok? Economic insecurity. Infrastructure failures. The U.S. government’s ineptitude in handling catastrophes. These are exactly the kinds of conversations that the government doesn’t want amplified among the broader populace.

With a foreign-owned platform, the U.S. government loses this leverage entirely, making it far harder to shape narratives or silence dissent. It is less so an issue of data privacy or national security, and moreso the absence of control.

"We can just make a replacement" and what makes Tiktok irreplaceable

In the wake of the hearings, there is a real likelihood of TikTok being banned. Creators with millions of followers, businesses thriving on TikTok shop, and everyday consumers who rely on the platform for community and education are deeply concerned.

The common response from those indifferent or supportive of the ban is: “It’s fine. Google or Meta can just make TikTok.” The reality is, this will never happen, nor could it happen, as much as I want it to.

What defines a social platform isn’t its features but the communication norms that emerge from its unique user experience. These norms can’t be retroactively replicated. Here’s why:

1. Instagram started as a photo-first, relationship-based sharing platform. From its early days, users primarily shared polished, well-edited photos with people they knew. Over a decade later, this expectation still shapes the type and style of content on the platform. While Instagram has embraced short-form vertical video, the content often carries a higher level of polish and production compared to TikTok. The implication is less off-the-cuff, face-to-camera conversations that are a defining feature of TikTok.

As a relationship-focused platform, most content is shared with people you know or follow — a dynamic that also influences user behavior. For example, I know people who avoid commenting, even when they want to, because they know their friends might see their activity in their feeds. This awareness of how the algorithm surfaces interactions often shapes and limits how users engage.

2. The same applies to YouTube. Despite the introduction of Shorts, the platform remains rooted in long-form content and is largely defined by search. This leads to content that is often highly useful or entertaining, consumed more like TV shows. However, engagement (such as comments and shares) is relatively low compared to views, and the platform's UX doesn’t actively support easy sharing and conversation.

3. TikTok began and remains a short-form, interest-based platform, with comments as a core aspect of the user experience. Unlike other social media platforms, creating content on TikTok didn’t expose you to friends or acquaintances but instead connected you with anyone globally who might be interested in your topic, idea, or video. This lowered the barrier to entry, allowing people of all ages and backgrounds to share their art, ideas, and businesses without fear of embarrassment or judgment from their immediate social circles.

By starting as a video-first app with a 60-second limit and evolving from a music and dance platform, TikTok initially attracted teenagers. They embraced a raw, unpolished, and authentic style, rather than conforming to the aesthetics and expectations dominant on other platforms. This foundation set the stage for TikTok's unique culture and growth.

TikTok's user experience, origin story, its rise at a specific moment in time, and its evolution since then are impossible to retroactively replicate. While short-form video will continue to grow in popularity, the communities, interactions, and content that emerge on other platforms will inherently be different.

Where next?
The potential ban of TikTok isn’t just about losing an app—it’s about losing a platform that democratized opportunity in ways no other has.

In the face of rising inequality, economic uncertainty, and growing barriers to upward mobility, TikTok stood out as a rare equalizer—a platform where the playing field felt level for once.

The American Dream has always been about opportunity. It’s ironic—and perhaps tragic—that the most vivid embodiment of that dream today comes from a foreign-owned platform. But the bigger tragedy would be watching that dream vanish, not because it failed, but because it succeeded too well.

The question isn’t just what happens if TikTok is banned—it’s what kind of future are we building if it does happen.