There’s a blunt, humorous audio trend tearing through TikTok right now that perfectly captures the subtle class snobbery of the digital age: “Wanna go camping?” “tf not.” The videos follow a predictable formula—someone rejects a basic, everyday activity (like standard outdoor camping) and cuts immediately to a luxury, high-end, glamping alternative.
It’s funny, it’s sassy, and it’s highly relatable for anyone who doesn’t want to sleep on the cold dirt. But let’s look past the slick editing and use a bit of independent logic. What this trend is actually showcasing is the triumph of corporate marketing over our own common sense.
We are living in an era where billionaires and mega-corporations have convinced us that nature itself isn’t “good enough” unless it has been commercialized, monetized, and fitted with a massive price tag. They’ve taken camping—one of the few remaining activities that is practically free, accessible to families of any class or background, and a great way to disconnect from the grid—and rebranded it as something dirty, low-class, and undesirable.
Instead, they sell us “glamping.” They want you to pay thousands of dollars to sleep in a plastic dome with air conditioning, Wi-Fi, and a curated aesthetic designed for Instagram. They’ve successfully convinced us that to enjoy the outdoors, we must buy their expensive gear, book their luxury sites, and document it all on our phones.
This manufactured disdain for the simple life is a quiet form of classism. It trains us to judge people based on their ability to afford premium, luxury experiences. It teaches our kids that simple, honest, and free pleasures are things to be mocked, while debt-fueled, artificial luxury is the only thing worthy of respect.
Let’s think for ourselves. The next time a corporate algorithm tries to convince you that a basic night under the stars with your family is “low-class,” ask yourself who benefits from that belief. It’s not you. It’s the billionaire tech and travel executives laughing all the way to the bank while we swipe our credit cards to buy an “authentic” outdoor experience. Let’s reject the manufactured snobbery, turn off the screens, and enjoy the real world on our own terms.
