The elephant enclosure at your local zoo is an interesting place to be. But until 20 years ago, it was somewhere you’d encounter in person—with reverence and intimacy. A video &ab_channel=jawed">uploaded by YouTube cofounder Jawed Karim 20 years ago today changed that. Karim wanted to test out the capabilities of a new website he and his colleagues had developed—what they called YouTube—and needed content to share with the world. It was designed to be filler: That much is evident in the halting presentation of the 19-second video.
But beyond its role as a historical footnote—the video that gave birth to YouTube, the cultural phenomenon that has reshaped our consumption habits and redefined celebrity over the past two decades—“Me at the zoo” changed our lives in another, subtler way. It normalized the idea of a share-all society.
Today, if you visited the elephant enclosure at the San Diego Zoo, as Karim did 20 years ago, you’d likely find people viewing the animals through their cellphone screens as much as with their own eyes. And that’s because of that video, and the behaviors it introduced to us.
More kids today want to be YouTubers than astronauts. Creators who built their names on YouTube now top the list of celebrities most recognized by younger generations. But it’s not just that YouTube became a job, or that YouTubers became public figures. “Me at the zoo” and all that followed helped instill the idea that we are all content creators by default, and that our lives are meant to be shared.
This shift wasn’t driven by YouTube alone, admittedly. But YouTube has been the most visible force guiding this cultural direction. It’s thanks to YouTube’s influence that we now take photos of our meals before eating, snap selfies in moments of crisis, and shape our lives to fit tidy, pithy narratives on platforms like X and Bluesky.
YouTube’s early motto, “Broadcast Yourself,” was a democratizing force, a clarion call to shift our behaviors. It’s why we now see videos of subway fights, supermarket arguments, and other spontaneous snippets of life—fragments that form an intoxicating, always-on feed to follow and engage with.
Two decades on from “Me at the zoo,” much will be written about how YouTube has reshaped entertainment. I’ve contributed to that discussion myself, having written a book on the platform and its rise. But I believe YouTube’s deeper, more enduring impact lies at the foundation of society itself. At the high end, through creators like MrBeast, YouTube videos now resemble big-budget TV series or Netflix productions more than off-the-cuff vlogs. Yet it all began with a simple, unscripted moment at the zoo.
“Me at the zoo” normalized sharing the mundane with strangers—and turning it into a performance. It ushered in a performative culture and a share-all society that we’re still trying to understand. In doing so, it also quietly redefined what counts as meaningful or noteworthy, elevating the everyday into something worthy of an audience. And in the long run, that may be the legacy YouTube is best remembered for.
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