What’s fizzin’?

Recently, I’ve stopped my nightly routine of scrolling on TikTok before bed. Instead, I’ve taken up a far more destructive habit: checking whatever new content has dropped on Fizz in the last 24 hours. If you’re in need of a weekly recap, something like 75% of all posts have referenced one specific, uniquely successful “fizzer” on the app, and the other quarter are frat-related fizzes — including the discovery that Mike Posner was in the Sigma Nu fraternity at Duke. Yes, that Mike Posner. Yes, that Sigma Nu. Yes, the song “Cooler than Me” is definitely about a girl at Duke, and according to Fizz, a member of the Tri Delta sorority. Yes, I spent far too long on Fizz when brainstorming this article. 

Although we might perceive Fizz as a superficial, irrelevant app, it has an outsized impact on Duke culture. The top post on Fizz has 2,300 upvotes. Recently, the most popular posts for each week have averaged around 2,000 upvotes. Given Duke’s small student body, that number represents a non-insignificant number of undergraduates interacting with the app at least weekly. Additionally, first-years and sophomores primarily drive the app, many of whom tend to be more active participants in campus culture than upper-level students. 

It’s not shocking that so many students, especially first-year students, are active on the platform. It’s often the first place I hear about new developments on campus, whether it’s the fire in Blue Zone or the recent reports of a Kappa Alpha (KA) member eating a live fish on camera. It also offers an easy way to start a conversation with people. If someone tells me they’re in Economics 201, I can reference any of the 200 posts I’ve seen about Professor Boczon, or her dog, Watson; if I’m walking past the never-ending East Campus construction, I’ll comment that I can’t wait for the lazy river. 

However, the app also provides an inaccurate picture of Duke culture — a breeding ground for Greek life and economics major-centered content on a platform that loves public shaming and celebrates people for demonstrated apathy. According to my tally system, almost a quarter of the top 100 posts on Fizz are related to Greek life, significantly outpacing any other post category. 

This disproportionate representation of Greek life makes sense. Those involved in Greek life might desire a more public social life and be likelier to post on Fizz. At the same time, discussing events like major parties or Greek life scandals provides a common denominator for many students to engage with: in short, it’s relatable. 

Yet this Fizz content also reinforces a system in which students view Greek life as the only option for Duke’s social life. These posts don’t just come after a huge party or major scandal but are a constant reality on the app. And not everyone is happy. About half as often as I come across a post dunking on KA, releasing a new frat ranking or discussing the Pi Beta Phi new member education program, I see a post complaining about the discussion of Greek life on Fizz. Given Fizz’s impact on Duke culture, if you don’t understand the nuanced intricacies of Fizz frat drama or the latest update on a random student elevated to the status of Fizz celebrity, you might feel alienated from your friends and the broader Duke community. While obviously, Fizz is not the primary distributor of social capital at Duke, the white and higher-income individuals more likely to join Greek organizations are also more likely to be in touch with the conversations about Fizz and “Duke culture.”

Furthermore, the anonymity offered by the platform allows for a greater toxic culture to flourish. Because students do not have to attach their name to their posts, users seem to share an unabashed willingness to shame others publicly. For example, if you engage in a socially unacceptable behavior, have an awkward picture posted by some of your friends or even write an unpopular article, you might be forever immortalized within campus culture. Such unrelenting notoriety isn’t an exaggeration: The most popular post on Fizz for over a year has been a picture of an Alpha Tau Omega pledge awkwardly trying to dap up Mark Mitchell, a post recreated in a painting currently hanging up in the Gilbert-Addoms dorm. In one of the worst cases, after an Economics 201 exam, people publicly mocked students based on their low scores, sharing their unique ID with the entire Duke community. 

The public nature of Fizz exacerbates Duke’s panopticon effect: If you feel that you are constantly watched, and always at risk of being posted, publicly shamed and immortalized, you’re more likely to self-censor your behavior. I’ve had so many conversations with my friends where after one of us, seriously or not, proposed an out-of-the-box idea, the immediate response was, “you are going to BLOW UP on Fizz.” At an institution with an already strong pre-professional, somewhat conformist culture, the Fizz app only further instills the values of palatability and popular appeal within Duke students.