Zac, Jay, YouTube: The Business of Doing What You Want
By: Asad Zulfiqar
Tags: YouTube, Entrepreneurship, Youtube Creators, Content Creation, Personality

As YouTube cements itself as an entertainment platform, with young viewers increasingly using it as their primary source for entertainment, questions abound as to whether the platform is harmful to viewers, creators and bystanders. I went to watch the filming of an episode of The Zac and Jay Show, popular young creators who depend on the platform for their livelihood and believe now is the best time to be alive.

Fifteen years ago, Jawed Karim uploaded a twenty-second video titled “me at the zoo” onto YouTube, a website he made along with two other former PayPal employees. A year later, he and his partners sold the website to Google for $1.65billion.

Fourteen years later, the website is worth $160billion and the top “YouTubers”, purveyors of content on the website, have an annual income in the tens of millions. Pewdiepie, a Swedish gamer, has a subscriber count greater than the population of the United Kingdom.

From humble beginnings.

While undoubtedly changing the nature of home entertainment, YouTube for many older folks is still not quite an altogether serious platform. Worse, it has been painted by many as being deeply problematic, playing host to the worst commenters on the internet as well as letting toxic videos run rampant.

Perhaps also because the platform’s algorithm encourages creators to upload daily and tinker with their styles and indeed their personality until they hit upon a formula that attracts a substantial viewership or goes viral. Then they try to milk this approach, with drastically diminishing returns in terms of quality of content. If you google “youtube ruined my life”, you’ll find many accounts from creators, victims of pranks and video-addicted viewers.

Pitching their voices higher, being silly and ridiculous, posting provocative or divisive content all seems to garner the kind of attention YouTubers seek while repelling parents whose children are glued to their tablets and mobiles. Logan and Jake Paul, whose audiences are very young, have been reviled even within the YouTube community. Logan has been chastised for everything from filming a man who hung himself, to kissing his brother’s ex-girlfriend, while there is an eight-part series on YouTube interrogating the question of whether Jake Paul is a sociopath, with views in the tens of millions.

The change, in a single year, of children’s television viewing in the UK.

At a certain point, a lot of YouTubers seem to lose their soul outright in pursuit of views, particularly as daily vlogging is often required to harness the algorithm and keep up traffic. Many have taken time off due to burning-out, such as Casey Neistat, Matt Lees and even Pewdiepie has stepped away to focus on his personal life. In the case of Lees, a month of working himself to exhaustion shone through in his content. His satirical gaming videos, which could be excoriating at times, sounded even angrier and in turn, attracted more viewers.

In December, I got to put some of these questions to a pair of creators, as I rode a train from London to Bristol, with Zac Alsop, Jamie Rawsthorne and Coco Anthony, the team behind The Zac and Jay Show. The stars of the show believe they can make a living, retain their sanity and contribute positivity to the world through their channel, as not only have they got the necessary tools to do so, but now also happens to be the best time to be alive.

Zac is tall, with curly brown hair and a Cheshire cat smile. Jamie is of medium build, with short hair and a mischievous glint in his eye. We were on our way to visit Help Bristol’s Homeless (HBH), a charity started by a man named Jasper who Zac and Jay posted a video about a year prior. They interviewed Jasper and then, with the help of some friends, organised a local club night for students and young people to raise funds.

Coco joined as a producer in March 2019, a few months after the channels first video in September 2018. Arguably, however, the Zac and Jay show started on October 17th 2016, or “Olympic Jib Day” which was the subject of their first video.

From left to right: Zac and Jay.

Before the joint channel, Zac started a channel in his name. He and Jamie had already spent the summer “jibbing” their way into festivals and backstage at concerts. Jibbing means getting into places you’re not supposed to be in on the back of projected confidence, assuring staff that they’re meant to be there and with the aid of props, such as a high-vis or fake passes. With these methods, they managed to meet Skepta, Wiley and Dizzee Rascal, all of whom hail from the London grime scene, among other bonafide stars from other parts of show business.

Despite having already achieved so much with the jib, they sought to serve up a big one in Zac’s first outing as a Youtuber. Channelling Remi Gaillard levels of whimsy, the video opens with Zac casually browsing for a Team GB tracksuit and a minute later you can hear Olympic Silver medallist Samantha Murray asking “How the hell did you get on here?!”

“We just bought the kit!” responds Jamie, sounding just as incredulous as the woman who had to compete in the pinnacle of physical competition to merit her place on the float. Fortunately, she was just as amused as they were with their stunt and invited the two of them to the after-party, where they hobnobbed with celebrities like Will.I.Am.

Zac (left), Samantha Murray (bottom right), incredulous olympians, all around.

Despite coming years before the official joint channel, this video in its under-produced glory is a perfect insight into exactly what there is to love about these two. One might argue that anyone could’ve bought the kit, but this is easily parried by the fact that nobody but these two did. However, there are droves of other YouTubers, from the UK, the US and elsewhere, who perform similar stunts and trick their way into an exclusive event or space.

More important than the trick itself is their authenticity; they were genuinely as surprised as everyone else with their feat. It never inflated their ego to the point of obnoxiousness. Not everyone would’ve been invited by the actual Olympians, whose accolades the two pretended to have, to the after-party in their honour.

This trip to check back up on HBH and Jasper exemplifies the central focus of their YouTube channel: to celebrate 21st-century life in all its interconnected weirdness and wonder. They’ve been hosted and helped in foreign countries by fans of their channel and complete strangers. You see this in videos they post of them sitting on a sofa in the street speaking with strangers, disarming any reticence you might feel when faced with such a proposition by being their authentic selves.

“My mum will kill me when she sees this,” says Jamie, as he tries juggling fire for the first time.

We get chatting to John, who a year ago was a beneficiary of the charity and now a year later is the official chef of the village. John, like Jasper, has the “gift of the gab”, that ability to speak charmingly and effusively and with genuine warmth. When asked what the village has done for him, he’s got more than a bit to say, but paramount among the benefits he has enjoyed is the return of his confidence, the building up of his self-esteem.

If not for Jasper, who simply decided to do something about homelessness in his town, John would not be beaming at us as he shows us around the startlingly comfortable looking homes in Jasper’s village. Spotlighting a cause and characters like these appeals to Zac and Jamie not just for clicks or charity, but because of a genuine affinity for what Jasper’s doing and how he’s doing it. They caught up with the men for an hour before filming an interview with either, laughing and joking like old mates.

Jasper Thompson, founder of Help Bristol’s Homeless, in front of a bus which lets people stay for a night or two.

One thing they share, which inoculates them against some of the complications that other YouTubers suffer, is a grounding in business. Zac and Jamie became friends at the University of the West of England. They had both enrolled onto a brand new Team Entrepreneurship degree which bins exams, lectures and all of the other conventions of degrees. The course aims to have students start their first business, learn how to run it, scale it and succeed.

Zac’s foray into business ended when he and some mates from his home near Bath had embarked on a venture and not gotten anywhere. He knew then that YouTube is what he wanted to try his hand at, having already a grounding in filming and editing.

Zac tried to coax Jamie into joining him, but Jamie had enjoyed some early successes. His business venture focussed on minimising student dropouts at universities and was on an encouraging trajectory. He felt like the work he was doing had some real, human value, the idea though was born more from his resourcefulness in spotting an opportunity.

During his sixth form years, Jamie’s early affinity for business saw him try to hire classmates in his ticket-selling scheme. He’s never been someone who shies away from graft; indeed, he would likely tell you his greatest attribute is his propensity to work hard. As Zac mentions in their intro video, however, he could tell Jamie was not enjoying the businessman life.

While Jamie plugged away at the business, grinding, hustling and other words used gratuitously by entrepreneurs, Zac was having the time of his life, doing interviews and media appearances, even achieving the status of being an answer in the Big Fat Quiz of the Year on Channel 4, as well making more videos.

He found press passes on Instagram and created fakes, jibbing his way into the Conor McGregor, Floyd Mayweather pre-fight press conference and garnering further notoriety in the media. Jamie enjoyed business success in parallel, being invited to pitch at the Bank of England with other entrepreneurs from the North. Afterwards, the two jibbed their way into the Brit Awards after-party. With mafiaesque magnetism, Jamie tried to get out, but Zac and the jib kept pulling him back in.

Eventually, Jamie succumbed to the temptation to join his persistent friend who was living a far more exciting life than poring over profit and loss statements, setting up meetings and projecting growth. Now the two have, at time of writing, over half a million subscribers, views in the hundreds of thousands for virtually all of their videos and have reached 20 million views on a video of them faking their mate, a fellow Youtuber by the name of Max Fosh, into London Fashion Week as a model.

Max Fosh, not a male model.

Max Fosh is another young, enterprising and creative soul who turned to YouTube instead of a graduate scheme or a University degree. Already a fan of the Zac and Jay Show, Max recognised Zac who happened to live in the same neighbourhood, told him he was a fan and offered to help on a video if they wanted. They did, a day later, and shortly thereafter Max found himself in the throes of Fashion Week, rubbing shoulders with models and designers, who found the stunt hilarious.

Max’s own channel ballooned in subscribers by virtue of this serendipitous meeting, a testament to the benefits of YouTube, wherein a community of content creators, like Max, like Niko Omilana, like JaackMaate, like Josh Pieters and many others, genuinely support each other. They are fans of each other’s content and often collaborate, without ever having known each other before. Their videos share a sense of adventure and authenticity of expression which is scarce on television, where presenters’ personality is determined by committee.

A large part of their early appeal, their modus operandi, was certainly the art of the jib. It’s how they started, it’s been the source of their greatest successes and it’s just fascinating to watch. In effect, they’re hackers, identifying vulnerabilities in security protocols, socially engineering their way to wherever they want to get to with nothing but charm, wits and a dash of preparation. These videos are vastly different from the type of prank videos which flood YouTube and are almost certainly staged. The sense that these guys can get caught and suffer consequences is tangible, exciting and choc-full of mischief.

Zac approaching Leonardo DiCaprio on the red carpet for a premiere for Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.

Mind you, this didn’t endear them to the establishments they jibbed very much. At least one stadium has banned Zac from their premises outright, despite the very real value in what they do and the advice they could offer; they’re self-taught security experts by this point.

They try and bring creativity to the process in all of their videos, while also seeking to display the weirder elements of life on this island they call home. They’ve gone cheese rolling in Gloucester, played ancient football in Ashbourne and even witnessed the flaming tar barrel running in Ottery, perhaps the craziest of British goings-on. Harking back to their entrepreneurial roots, they even tried to sell “lemonaid” to Bill Gates.

After concluding the shoot, we say goodbye to Jasper and walk through Bristol. While discussing where to meet their mate for dinner, they also kick around ideas for the second half of this video. “We’ve already done a rave, we’ve got to go one further.” It’s clear that the entertainment angle of the video isn’t just an attempt to garner more views for the video, but to one-up themselves, stay original and hopefully garner more attention for the cause.

They reserve the right to have ambitions.

As Jamie wants to stop by a co-working space for no reason other than curiosity, it prompts us all to talk about careers. I ask Zac what he would be doing if he could do anything.

“Exactly what I am doing,” he responds, without hesitation. What about television, or some bigger, more established platform? “We already got onto a TV show-” Pants on Fire, which aired on E4 and included Jimmy Carr among its hosts “-and it’s been a good experience, but we have more freedom over our content and, to be honest, we get more views as well.”

On the train back to London, I ask what’s next for them, which they answer with relaxed expressions. They have been discussing terms with Kyra, a youth entertainment company. The deal should free them up to focus more on being creative rather than the arduous tasks that come with the territory, such as editing the videos which thus far has been done by Zac, who also films.

This is also the first time since the creation of the channel that they’re sitting on a backlog of videos, rather than trying to make the next one. It’s evident that they’ve retained the lessons in business they learned and are improving their product with each video, while never failing to be themselves, make people smile and exhibit no toxic social traits whatsoever. Their mums must be proud.

Just another day at the office.

One hundred years ago, the nature of work was very different from today. Power was concentrated and upwards-mobility was stagnating during the post-war period. The confluence of all new technology and hard times forged many beautiful minds and led to new forms of art and expression, for themselves and to entertain others.

Thus, “showbusiness” became massive. Power came to those who sang, danced and acted; power came so quickly and with such force that many, many people failed to figure out how to deal with it, quickly becoming corrupted, or addicted, or isolated. In the case of Zac and Jay, the seven hundred thousand pairs of eyes watching them present them with responsibility as well as opportunity; both of which they relish.

Sixty years ago, if a group of ordinary lads wished to propel themselves to stardom, they probably had to form a band, pick up musical instruments, use their instincts for rhythm to make catchy or anthemic or cathartic music and perform to increasingly adoring masses. The culture surrounding such stars began to be just as fascinating to people as the music was infectious, with the advent of publications like Rolling Stone magazine focussing more on the people and their lives than just the music.

The Rolling Stones.

Rock’n’roll may not be what it used to be, but the residue of personality, of sticking two fingers up to authority, of laughing at deference, elevating those with like minds and being unapologetically yourself has remained.

Today, a group of ordinary lads can get some decent video and audio recording equipment and, if they have enough originality, audacity and sincerity, then they can make themselves stars through sheer force of personality alone.