When Cruelty Becomes the Point and AI-Generated Videos

(This article has been republished from the author's substack with express permission.)

The Spectacle of Cruelty

Recently, an AI-generated video circulated online showing a crowned Donald Trump flying a fighter jet and dropping what appeared to be feces on protesters, including a well-known liberal influencer. Trump himself reposted it—cementing it not only on social media, but in the official Presidential Record (source) (a topic for another day, under “Digital Footprint”).

It looked like something a teenage boy might have made—and that’s exactly the point.

On the surface, it’s absurdist bathroom humor. But this isn’t new. Two decades ago (and continuing into 2025), educators were scrambling to fix the “reading crisis” among boys (source); many teachers reached for gross-out lit (source)—books packed with pranks, farts, sarcasm, crass language, and potty humor. Anything to get reluctant readers turning pages. The intent was good: engagement first, rigor later.

But in hindsight, we were also teaching that reading—and by extension, thinking—could be purely about stimulation, not reflection. Some of those stories held empathy and humor; others simply rewarded the dopamine of disgust and the titillation of shock value.

This video takes that formula and weaponizes it. The same appeal to impulse that once got boys reading is now used to keep them watching.

The Dopamine of Mockery

The adolescent brain is a perfect storm of risk, reward, and belonging. The limbic system, which is the emotional, dopamine-driven center, develops long before the frontal lobe, which handles impulse control. In that gap, mockery feels like victory.

Across social media, mockery has become a kind of sport, in what some corners call the ‘owning the libs’ meme economy. It feeds directly into adolescents’ craving for dominance and belonging. Meanness and cruelty become a shortcut to power and connection. The radicalization corner of the internet doesn’t sell ideas; it sells feeling. Each share, each laugh, delivers a hit of dopamine that reinforces identity: We’re the ones who get it. They’re the joke.

When belonging depends on ridicule, empathy withers. Cruelty isn’t a side effect—it’s the product, the normalization of nastiness.

Propaganda Disguised as Humor

Philosopher, writer, academic, and author of How Fascism Works, Jason Stanley (source) argues that propaganda doesn’t just spread falsehoods, it teaches audiences emotional habits. It conditions people to feel empathy for some and indifference toward others.

The Trump fighter-pilot video is a perfect example of how that conditioning works:

• Identification – Viewers align with the powerful figure, flying high.

• Dehumanization – Targets are literally demeaned, stripped of dignity.

• Reinforcement – Humor delivers a dopamine reward for laughing along.

It’s not simply a joke; it’s training. Repetition across social media channels and TikTok edits normalizes contempt and embeds emotional scripts that outlast the punchline.

The Crisis of Role and Belonging

Boys today are starving for role models and meaning, and falling behind in nearly every aspect of their lives (source). They want to know what it means to be strong, funny, and respected in a world where they often feel their contributions aren’t wanted. Online, they find endless influencers ready to affirm their worth with cruelty disguised as confidence.

Online radicals aren’t recruiting with manifestos anymore; they are recruiting with memes, AI-generated videos, and influencer stitches. It offers belonging without vulnerability, humor without empathy, and masculinity without responsibility.

That’s why media literacy education must evolve. Fact-checking alone won’t reach the heart of this problem. We need to teach kids to spot emotional manipulation, not just misinformation.

The key media literacy question today isn’t just “Is this true?” but “Why does it feel good to agree with this?” The Trump poop video may be fake, but the rush of validation an adolescent feels while watching it is entirely real.

Reclaiming Empathy Through Real Community

The antidote to online radicalization isn’t censorship, it’s connection.We have to pull boys out of algorithmic isolation and into real-world communities where laughter doesn’t depend on humiliation and belonging isn’t built on dominance.

Sports teams, arts programs, and service learning aren’t luxuries—they’re counter-narratives. They show boys what genuine camaraderie feels like, where connection isn’t earned through ridicule but through shared effort.

In schools, we need to value learning experiences that slow students down, such as projects that ask for reflection, self-expression, and authentic engagement with human stories.

Classrooms should offer space for structured debate and dialogue, where disagreement follows rules of respect and argument requires substance, not insult. When humor and conflict happen face-to-face, empathy has a chance to return.

In classrooms, teachers can model critical humor (source)—satire that punches up, not down, and intentionally looks at the social implications of humor.

Media literacy lessons that unpack viral videos, memes, and online content can turn laughter into inquiry by asking:

Who benefits from this joke? Who pays the cost?

Three Media Literacy Questions That Matter

After fourteen years of teaching media literacy, I’ve learned that curiosity is the strongest defense against manipulation. Whether we’re unpacking misinformation, disinformation, or the flood of AI-generated content, the goal is the same: to give students a simple, repeatable habit of questioning what they see (source). Every learner can pause and ask three deceptively simple questions before liking, sharing, or laughing, and parents can use them, too. (In my house, my kids love turning those questions right back on me.)

1. What is this trying to make me think or feel?→ Reveals the persuasive or emotional intent behind humor.

   
   

2. Who made it, and why?→ Builds curiosity about motive and bias; asks whether this message is appropriate from this sender.

   
   

3. Is this funny and fair?→ Prompts reflection on whether humor harms or stereotypes others, and challenges confirmation bias by applying the same lens to media we like.

These questions shift media literacy from fact-checking to critical thinking.

Do as I Say, Not as I Meme

The title of this newsletter is a kind of wink at the contradiction between what we teach and what we do online. But it’s also a warning. We can’t tell kids to “be nice” while we model a culture that rewards cruelty for clicks.

If cruelty has become the spectacle, then empathy must become the rebellion.

Media literacy isn’t about scolding kids for laughing at the wrong meme; it’s about giving them language for the feelings they’re being taught to chase. Understanding the emotional mechanics of humor—why it feels good, whom it serves, and what it costs—is the first step in reclaiming our shared humanity.

Because if mockery is the dopamine of masculinity, then empathy is its recovery program.

(c) Soni Albright, 2025 — Do as I Say, Not as I Do

Soni Albright is the Curriculum Specialist for Cyber Civics.