One characteristic of a compelling work of art is its enduring, cross-generational relevance. Call it the “evergreen effect”: regardless of the epoch, strong art maintains a grasp on the core components within each zeitgeist. In John Carpenter’s action-packed sci-fi satire, They Live (1988), these components include consumerism, authoritarianism, and conformity, which are bolstered by a materialistic culture and eroded critical thinking skills.
Unfortunately, like many commentaries that plumb the depths of the human and sociological condition (e.g., Yevgeny Zamyatin’s We, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, and Nineteen Eighty-Four), They Live has only grown more pertinent—and dramatically so—in the digital age.
They Live sees a drifter named Nada (Roddy Piper) seeking purpose in a culture dominated by television and media. What he doesn’t expect is to unveil the world’s subtle mechanisms of social control: subliminal messages that underpin every advertisement and piece of programming, only rendered visible by a special pair of sunglasses. Through the literal lenses of truth, Nada discovers that aliens have infiltrated society and, together with avaricious human opportunists, effectively enslaved humanity via indoctrinating messages like “consume”, “submit”, and “obey”.
In the 1980s, John Carpenter feared “Reaganomics“, its influence on “yuppie culture“, and its impact on society through television. Today, viewers can draw parallels between They Live‘s anti-consumerist messaging and the proliferation of advertisements propagated across social media, streaming services, and other digital channels.
Consume! Commands the Advertising Overlords
A chronically online world has given rise to previously unprecedented numbers of advertisements. Some estimates suggest people see up to several thousand ads per day, even if they’re not consciously processed. The term “ad overload” refers to the internet’s increasingly promotional landscape, which is fueled by the growing accessibility of user data contained in apps. “In agreeing to a website or app’s terms and conditions, many times you are agreeing to share data as well,” Charlie Warzel wrote in The Atlantic.
However, the ad overload isn’t restricted to one’s fitness tracker. Streaming services like HBO Max have recently increased their ad minutes per hour from four to six. Amazon’s Prime Video has done similarly and hasn’t yet communicated this to consumers.
Like the ads in They Live, modernity’s overabundant promo material conveys similar messages: “consume”, and always remember that money is “your God”. Never mind information overload or the fact that more content is produced every two days than everything created between the beginning of civilization and 2003; companies want the Almighty Dollar, and they’ll spew as many ads as it takes to grab it.
Submit to Your Influencers
Suppose one is “immune” to most promotional ploys because they don’t trust Instagram’s oddly specific (i.e., highly tailored and targeted) suggestions to buy that new handbag or resent unskippable ads on their favorite videos. Other methods—like influencers — might reach these people’s psyches.
Fifty-nine percent of marketers reported a plan to partner with more influencers in 2025 than in 2024, and 77 percent of brands partner with 1–10 influencers at any given time. Sprout Social cites influencers are perceived as “trusted sources of inspiration and entertainment.” A March 2025 Marketing Dive survey revealed that this was a primary reason for brands to invest in influencer partnerships, alongside building brand awareness and driving revenue growth.
Standalone ads may not sway a person, but an endorsement from their favorite content creator might. After all, parasocial relationships are common in a personality-saturated online realm. With millions of creators worldwide affecting social opinion, it’s natural for people in the digital age to find someone they click with—and whose sponsored content and discount codes they’ll buy into.
In They Live, cable news anchors project authority; in today’s world, one’s next-door neighbor could be the new voice of supposed truth and social proof. A lonelier, more disconnected, and digital planet means more people potentially grasping for meaning from someone they’ve never met who’s filming themselves in their basement somewhere in Ohio.
While there’s no harm in supporting one’s favorite creators, the sheer number of them—and those trying to sell products—creates a world in which it’s harder to control impulses, resist “proving” fan loyalty with wallets, and prevent over-consumption. In other words, it’s a world in which it’s difficult not to “consume” and “obey”.
It’s also harder to spot mis- and disinformation. TikTok, for example, frequently exposes users to sensationalized, emotionally charged content, and it has even affected elections. During the United Kingdom’s 2024 general election, the BBC reported that “fake AI-generated videos featuring party leaders, misinformation, and clips littered with abusive comments” flooded the app. This caused confusion for some users.
Media literacy is crucial if people are to sift truth from lies today. AI, deepfakes, convincing parodies, and bots complicate an already muddied digital space. Like the talking heads in They Live, many modern figures aim to dissuade and interrupt critical thinking. People who cannot think for themselves are those whom the elites will gladly think for instead.
Obey the Trends
Another pernicious effect of cyberspace is the impact of social media and influencers on conformity. They Live critiques a culture steeped in “no thought”, “no ideas”, and “no imagination”, exploited by overlords who encourage obedience and cooperation. However, pundits and politicians are no longer as trusted as they once were, so the tides of trendiness have shifted toward social networking services.
Nowadays, the younger demographic particularly seeks identity and inspiration from online communities. TikTok and Instagram, especially, drive trends, such as aesthetic and “core” culture (think the aspirational nostalgia of “cottagecore”, the minimalism of the “Clean girl aesthetic”, etc.), which directly impact how people dress, carry themselves, decorate their homes, and behave in daily life.
Those who resist styling themselves like the excessively glamorous “mob wife” risk missing out on curating an identifiable personal brand, connecting with others in their “#core” group, and growing their social platforms. Yet those who adopt these fads for popularity’s sake risk greater detriments: a degraded sense of their authentic selves and a heightened desire to mold to current cultural whims.
Subcultures, like goth and geek culture, once centered on distinguishing participants from the mainstream. Now, the mainstream sells illusions of rebellion and uniqueness back in the form of Hot Topic and anime water bottle stickers. What seems like the relaxation of stigmas also feels like cultural homogeneity, and businesses aggressively profit from what makes people individuals.
They Live shows snippets of people longing for fame, flipping through poisonous books, and gossiping about trivialities that have no real bearing on life. It cautions against settling for shallow, surface-level conversations and content, especially when it reduces people to mere husks of who they could be.
When surrounded by TikToks promoting the latest fashion craze, gasping over the newest Crumbl cookie line-up, or taste-testing a single $20 strawberry, John Carpenter’s film looks borderline prophetic. Yet it only exposes humanity’s ever-present heart issues: the desire to be loved and to belong.
It is these yearnings that companies exploit when individuals fail to defend themselves against messages lobbed at their weak spots—messages about unworthiness, unlovability, and not being enough. A society “asleep” in its insecurities, attempting to bandage its problems with superficial distractions, is a society prime for alien (or, rather, corporate and psychological) takeover: not necessarily because of a lack of intelligence, but because of a lack of honesty and an aversion to seeing reality for what it is.
Wake Up!
To awaken from the sleep state in They Live‘s not-so-fictional world, one needs substance. Securing stuff might seem to offer temporary solutions, but it can’t fix permanent problems. Status and image can ensure a more comfortable existence, but they don’t make a life. Entertainment, as fun as it is, doesn’t substitute impact, productivity, or virtue.
The best way to fight back is to live in reverse of They Live‘s subliminal messages. Instead of consuming, create; instead of cooperating with the powers that be because it’s easier, oppose them by keeping yourself educated and aware; rather than honoring apathy, honor a mentally, emotionally, and spiritually vibrant mode of being.
If they live because we sleep, it’s time to awaken to the reality that John Carpenter’s film is more relevant now than it ever was in the 20th century. Everyone has the opportunity to be like its protagonist and open not only their own eyes but also the eyes of others. Truth always frees what deception takes captive.
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