The Depravity of Man

What Spotify statistics reveal about human nature

#Opinion • 8:45 a.m. March 15, 2026

For thousands of years, theologians have debated the doctrine of the depravity of man in low voices – as though speaking too loudly might produce the evidence. These theologians – including Augustine vs. Pelagius, Luther vs. Erasmus, and Calvin vs. Arminius (though these two weren’t contemporaries) – argued about sin, corruption, and the tragic trajectory of human nature toward evil. But those debates are no longer necessary. Now, we have Spotify statistics.

If the ancient philosophers and church fathers had possessed access to modern music streaming stats, they would have closed the case immediately. The depravity of man is no longer a theological proposition; it is an empirical fact. It is measurable in monthly listeners.

Measurable in Monthly Listeners

Consider the modern musical landscape: We live in a civilization where artists like Benson Boone, Bad Bunny, Alex Warren, and even Tyler Nance (seriously?) accumulate tens of millions of monthly listeners – numbers that dwarf those of bands and artists whose work required decades of discipline, musical experimentation, philosophical reflection, and genuine artistic courage. Meanwhile, bands like TOOL, Gojira, and Mastodon, three groups that helped shape the boundaries of heavy music and complexity, live in the numerical underworld below the algorithmic gods of contemporary pop and country. Even Metallica has fewer monthly listeners than some of the algorithm darlings listed above.

This is not merely a matter of taste. Taste would imply there was some level of discernment. Taste would imply that someone sat down and listened carefully, perhaps with a beverage in hand, and thoughtfully concluded, “Yes, this is what I prefer.” What we have instead is something much more alarming: the mass industrialization of preference.

We have created a world where millions of people listen to music the way cattle walk to a feeding trough. They are guided by bright rectangles and invisible algorithms with the sole mission of ensuring that nothing too interesting ever interrupts the pleasant hum of the familiar.

The result is a civilization where musical depth competes with 30-second TikTok videos.

And depth loses – every single time.

The Algorithm as Original Sin

This shouldn’t surprise us. Humanity has always had an extraordinary ability to embrace the insignificant while ignoring the profound. But modern technology has amplified this tendency to an almost theological degree. The algorithm has become the digital equivalent of original sin: an invisible force quietly guiding all of humanity toward whatever is easiest to consume.

Meanwhile, artists who have the audacity to challenge listeners are treated as relics of a bygone age, like blacksmiths or philosophers.

Consider the absurdity of it all. Somewhere in the world right now, maybe even in our little town, a musician is carefully and thoughtfully composing a piece that explores polyrhythms, mythological symbolism, philosophical ideas, and emotional complexity. While he or she toils away, millions of people are enthusiastically listening to a song whose central lyrical insight is essentially “I am sad but also vibing.”

The depravity of man does not exist only in evil acts. It exists in the willingness to trade the magnificent for the mediocre without even noticing the transaction.

Cultural Entropy Everywhere

This is not limited to music. It spreads across every domain of culture. Literature, film – it all suffers the same fate. This is not progress; this is cultural entropy. It is not that these things are inherently evil. They simply exist in a cultural ecosystem where simplicity has devoured substance. And the audience cheers. Think Marvel films (which I like, but they have always lacked the literary complexity of Snyder’s DC films, if we’re being honest). Think Colleen Hoover novels, which lack any complexity at all.

Get it?

When shallow culture becomes shallow politics

Of course, this tendency toward cultural shallowness would be disturbing enough on its own. But it becomes truly disturbing when we observe the same phenomenon in politics.

Human beings now routinely support political figures who do things that would have horrified previous generations. Corruption, cruelty, dishonesty, and astronomical levels of incompetence are no longer disqualifying traits in our leaders. They are often treated as entertainment.

Political discourse has been reduced to a tribal sporting event in which the objective is not truth but victory. The politicians have become mascots; the voters have become fans. And the moral consequences are ignored in the background while everyone argues about whose team scored the better insult on social media.

The same people who demand accountability from musicians, actors, and athletes will enthusiastically defend politicians who behave like cartoon villains. And they will do so with great passion.

The Tribe Explains Everything

This is where the depravity of man reveals its most fascinating characteristic: the ability to justify absolutely anything as long as it benefits your preferred tribe.

If a politician lies, it is strategic communication.

If a politician insults someone, it is authenticity.

If a politician undermines democratic norms, it is necessary disruption.

Human beings possess an almost supernatural ability to reinterpret reality in ways that protect their emotional investments. We should not be surprised by this. The same species that built cathedrals and symphonies also invented reality television and country music.

The same civilization that produced Chaucer and Van Gogh now debates whether a song written primarily for dance trends should be considered a masterpiece.

Beauty and Stupidity, Often in the Same Afternoon

This contradiction is the central tragedy of human nature. We are capable of astonishing beauty and astonishing stupidity, often within the same afternoon. A person might listen to Beethoven in the morning, scroll through nonsense for three hours in the afternoon, and then passionately defend a politician who behaves like a medieval warlord.

And they will see no contradiction.

Perhaps this is why the doctrine of the depravity of man has endured for centuries. It is not a statement about how evil people are in the dramatic sense. Most people are not villains; most people are mostly kind and well-intentioned. Even people with whom I disagree about the important things – politics, religion, music, anything – we often would not know it, because I see through it and love them for who they truly are. The problem is that we are so easily distractible.

We drift toward comfort, simplicity, and tribal affirmation. We reward whatever entertains us most easily. We follow whatever narrative supports our assumptions and validates our opinions. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the profound is pushed aside by what is easiest and most convenient.

None of this requires malice. It just requires apathy, and apathy, it turns out, is one of the most powerful forces in the universe.

A Species with Poor Cultural Judgment

If an alien civilization were studying Earth, they might conclude that humanity is a species with extraordinary creative potential but very poor cultural judgment. They might conclude that we are a species capable of composing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony but more interested in ranking chicken nuggets at fast-food chains on TikTok.

We occasionally produce works of brilliance – symphonies, novels, films, and ideas that last generations. Then we bury them beneath mountains of disposable entertainment and argue online about which disposable thing is slightly less disposable.

The depravity of man is not that we are incapable of greatness.

It is that we too often scroll past it without noticing.

Perhaps the theologians were right about the depravity of man – they were simply working with less data.