On the debut episode of Season VIII: Polarity, IU Edition Carolyn Hadlock and IU Students Selena, Hannah, and Natalie, welcome Doctoral Candidate and Assistant Professor Jamie Theophilos to discuss what led them to become an educator at Indiana while studying their PhD, mental health, and social justice through media.

“Conflict is just inevitable and it's just a part of society and I feel like I've seen more harm and more detriment done to the idea of avoiding conflict, avoiding even the possibility that you may have been in the wrong.” - Jamie Theophilos

Carolyn Hadlok :

Today we are talking with Jamie Theophilus, who is a doctoral student and associate instructor at the Media School at Indiana University in Bloomington. Welcome to the show, Jamie.

Jamie Theophilos:

Hi!

Carolyn Hadlok :

You are Hannah, Selena and Natalie's immediate first choice to talk with when we landed on our season theme of Polarity. Your work and research about how media technologies impact social movements is of deep interest to all of us.

Selena Ayub :

Hi, Jamie. We're so excited to talk to you today, especially having been in your class before and having you as an instructor. I wanted to start off hearing a little bit about how you got here as an artist and as an educator.

Jamie Theophilos:

I would say that what truly inspired me to pursue a PhD and become an educator was the profound influence my teachers had on me—they were genuinely life-changing. I feel like my teachers transformed who I was as a person and served as incredible sources of inspiration. Their impact showed me just how powerful and positive a force a teacher can be in someone’s life, and that became my primary motivation. The support, intellect, and challenges I received—not just from professors, but also from high school teachers—pushed me to grow into a better person. I found that incredibly compelling and deeply valuable, and I still hold that value today. In fact, there are professors at Indiana University, especially within the Media School, who continue to inspire me. My advisors and other faculty members I’ve worked with have had a significant impact on me, and I remain in awe of their guidance and dedication.

Selena Ayub:

I know you went to school in Chicago for a while and IU and then you worked at UNC, right. I'm curious about the difference in not only environments, but the polarity that varies from school to school and the differences in opinions. Did that at all impact your own perspectives on things?

Jamie Theophilos:

That's a good question. I would say not as much, and honestly, I believe Indiana University has impacted my experience more than any other place. I think there are a variety of reasons for that. One is the cultural climate—when I was teaching at other institutions, the environment was quite different from what it is now. Additionally, certain developments in Indiana legislation, such as Senate Bill 202, have sparked fear and distrust among faculty and educators regarding how we engage with students and colleagues.

What feels different now is the growing rhetoric in education that frames professors as individuals who are forcing ideas onto students. That shift has made me more fearful than I’ve ever been. Because of my identity as someone who is not a cisgender man, my very presence is often politicized. That alone can lead others to perceive me as someone with an agenda, as if I'm trying to push beliefs simply because of who I am. That perception is unsettling and has added a layer of concern to how I navigate my role as an educator.

Jamie Theophilos:

Pronouns are so politicized right now that even coming on the show, I have moments where I don’t want people to call me they/them—even though I’ve been using those pronouns since I was 17. I start to wonder: are the people in this room judging me? Are they already rolling their eyes, thinking it’s ridiculous? I don’t think I’m the only one who feels that way, especially at IU. This pressure feels pervasive, but I think it’s particularly intense at IU because of the SEA 202 bill.

Carolyn Hadlock:

Do you mind explaining what the 2 0 2 bill is?

Jamie Theophilos:

Yes and please also add on to that, but the SA 2 0 2 bill is a bill that got passed in Spring that is based around pushing that you need to teach both sides of an argument, but not only that, you also cannot speak about political topics that are not relevant to your course.

Carolyn Hadlock:

Which is hard because everything is political.

Jamie Theophilos:

Yes, exactly. But what does that really mean—what are the exact ins and outs of it? What I find interesting is that I do believe there are many scenarios where teaching a variety of perspectives is incredibly valuable. I don’t take an extreme, black-and-white stance on this. However, I think the way it's being implemented at the state level is quite dangerous, in my opinion—especially considering that academic institutions already offer many avenues to ensure a diversity of perspectives. Those polarities—between openness and restriction—felt more pronounced here than anywhere else I’ve been.

Selena Ayub:

Yeah, I think especially with that law, not everything is so black and white, specifically when we're talking about science, you aren't going to explain the point of view of people that don't believe in science because you're teaching science. So it's like how are you supposed to teach both sides to certain subjects?

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, absolutely.

Hannah Whipple:

I think a lot of it comes down to intentionality, which you often speak about. It's not necessarily about convincing someone to believe a certain way—it's more about offering a new perspective. It’s about trying to open your eyes to something different. You also talk about the illusion of choice, and that resonates with me. It’s hard to fully know what we truly believe in. Our beliefs can shift over time, and sometimes we claim to believe in something we don’t genuinely stand behind. There’s a lot of inner conflict and polarity in that, and I think that’s worth acknowledging.

Carolyn Hadlock:

And that's the inner polarity that we've been talking about too. I mean, it's easy to sort of accept society and everything. One thing though, I think that's really interesting, Jamie, I'm so glad you are in the state of Indiana right now because one of the things as we were looking through your work that we were all attracted to was the idea that you will jump into conflict and you can't avoid it. And a lot of people who maybe are in your shoes would say, I want to teach at a different institution that sees things more eye to eye versus you jumping into that. Is there anything in your background that sort of took you to that space of attention?

Jamie Theophilos:

I think a lot of it comes from how strongly I believe in the importance of conflict resolution and the idea that conflict is inevitable—it's simply a part of society. In my experience, I’ve seen more harm come from avoiding conflict or refusing to consider the possibility that you might be in the wrong. That kind of avoidance often leads to worse outcomes. Instead, I believe it’s healthier to lean into conflict and approach it with acceptance, as it can lead to growth and understanding.

Carolyn Hadlock:

Finding common ground is something we've talked about a lot, how do we do that as the antidote to polarity?

Jamie Theophilos:

Or maybe it's about accepting that there isn’t always common ground. I think another interesting point—though feel free to disagree—is that there are varying degrees to which I’m willing to engage with different opinions and perspectives, and that’s very subjective for me. This isn't true for everyone, of course. For example, I’m not interested in finding common ground with a neo-Nazi. While I can recognize the humanity in people and understand that there are often complex reasons why someone ends up holding such beliefs, that doesn’t mean I’m willing to engage in nuanced dialogue or share a platform that legitimizes those views. However, that doesn’t mean I’m closed off entirely—I am very open to being around a diversity of perspectives and ways of engaging with the world.

One thing I really appreciate—and would even boast about—is the Media School. It fosters not just a diversity of perspectives, but also a diversity of methodologies and ways of approaching the study of media. This includes engaging with opposing or even polar perspectives. The Media School functions as a space where people approach media as both a vessel and a theme, coming from a range of professions and intellectual backgrounds, which I find incredibly enriching.

Jamie Theophilos:

Whether it's journalism, video production, or a more social science-based, quantitative approach to qualitative research, I’ve always been drawn to the variety. And while I recognize that some people may have had issues with that kind of structure, it was actually one of the things I found most appealing about coming here. I was genuinely interested in being surrounded by a diverse group of people who were approaching media from different angles and for a wide range of reasons.

Hannah Whipple:

You’re deeply involved in your teaching—I’d say it’s one of your greatest passions. Growing up, many of us were taught through a very traditional, research-based approach that focused heavily on studying, memorization, and repetition. But I’d love to hear your thoughts on the importance of intersectional learning and how it contrasts with those conventional methods.

Jamie Theophilos:

I had an interesting trajectory growing up in terms of my relationship with education. I did very poorly in middle school due to a number of challenges. I struggled with mental health issues, was bullied frequently, and generally had a hard time. I was very much a troubled kid—edgy and bratty in ways that, as an adult, I now look back on and say to my mom, “I’m so sorry, I was such a brat.”

Things started to turn around during my sophomore year of high school, thanks in part to forming a positive relationship with my art teacher. That connection was a real turning point for me. I began to excel academically, got involved in as many activities as possible, and put real effort into school. Still, I continued to struggle in some areas. I’m a terrible test taker, and later in life I discovered that I have a math learning disability—something I wish I’d known earlier. I’ve also dealt with ADHD, which added to the difficulty.

Over time, I came to understand that there are many different ways to learn beyond the traditional academic model. That realization has been incredibly important to me. I now really value the idea that learning should accommodate a variety of styles and abilities, because not everyone thrives in the same system.

Carolyn Hadlok :

And it's probably a good time to talk about your sort of teaching statement on students as producers.

Selena Ayub:

I did some research and saw that your teaching style is largely research-based—encouraging students to explore and learn independently before coming back to you. Is that an approach you find yourself using often?

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, that’s a good question. I’ll admit that the teaching statement you saw is a bit outdated and doesn’t fully reflect how I approach teaching now. What I was really trying to express in that statement is the idea of collective learning. While I may be the one facilitating the class, it’s not about me being the sole source of knowledge. I want to learn alongside my students. I remember a moment with one of my professors here on campus that really stuck with me. I asked her a question, and she responded, “You know what? I actually don’t know the answer to that.” And I thought—that’s awesome. It showed me that teaching isn’t about pretending to know everything. I really value that kind of humility and openness in the classroom, where the traditional hierarchy is challenged, and students feel respected for their ideas—even if those ideas differ from mine. Sometimes, they may even bring knowledge that I can learn from.

Carolyn Hadlok :

You mentioned earlier the challenges you faced as a student with traditional academic structures like test-taking, but also how you found your voice through multimedia and film as tools for persuasion and social activism. Could you talk a bit more about that?

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, that’s interesting that you bring that up. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot myself, and I guess I’ll explain why. I’ve always been very into art, and for a long time, I saw film as my primary artistic medium. Alongside that, I’ve been deeply interested in how media production can contribute to social movements and activism. I’ve explored a wide range of media—from videography, which has been my main focus, to graphic design, podcasts, and motion graphics. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of independent media-making as a way to share important stories.

That said, my relationship with media creation has changed over time, and I’d say a big part of that shift is due to the influence of corporate social media. It feels like in order to get content seen, you not only have to compete within this massive flood of media that everyone is producing, but you also have to conform to algorithms and platform-specific trends. I found myself creating content shaped more by what the platform wanted than by what I truly wanted to express—and that’s made me feel disillusioned.

I know everyone has different perspectives on this, but for me, the idea of “independent” or “alternative” media has started to lose its meaning. The current media landscape feels overwhelming, and to be honest, it’s made me a little sad and less motivated creatively. That doesn’t mean I’ve given up—I wouldn’t be in the Media School if I didn’t still love this field—but I’ve found myself shifting more toward research. A big part of that shift is rooted in my experience as a media maker and how social media has affected my mental health. It’s addictive, it often makes me feel bad about myself, and I just hate how much it dominates our attention.

Carolyn Hadlok :

We all have that.

Jamie Theophilos:

To be very honest, my life is a lot better when I’m not on social media. But it played a big role in shaping how I approached media activism, and it really pushed me to become interested in social media as a research topic. That’s now the main focus of my research, more so than areas like film production or similar fields.

Hannah Whipple:

So how do you deal with the polarity of yourself, not particularly liking these platforms, but also utilizing them to get your point across?

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, it’s very complicated and confusing, and I don’t think there’s a black-and-white answer. But I think that’s part of why I’ve become more involved in digital justice work, online privacy, and efforts to create alternative platforms. A big part of that interest comes from thinking about how platforms shape the media we consume and share. For me, it's a multi-faceted issue. If you're interested in this space, there are many ways to interrogate and challenge it—it’s not just about saying, “We should never use these platforms,” or “I give up, and I’m fine with my life being shaped by Mark Zuckerberg’s algorithms.”

There’s a wide range of ways people can push back, even in small acts. For example, deciding to block social media access on Mondays, or choosing to post content on platforms other than TikTok. Even leaning into podcasts can be a form of resistance—since podcasts, thanks to RSS feeds, are more decentralized and less dependent on a single platform. That legacy of decentralization in podcasting is something I find really compelling.

Carolyn Hadlok :

Yes of course.

Jamie Theophilos:

So in that sense, being involved in podcasting can serve as a way to challenge or disrupt the monopolization of discourse by big tech—offering an alternative space for exchanging ideas and mobilizing thought. There's also a growing desire to question and push back against how these platforms operate. While this isn’t solely about cultural polarization, we’ve seen significant developments on a legislative level, such as efforts to break up monopolies through antitrust laws targeting companies like Google. There have also been grassroots efforts to critique how content is distributed on platforms like Instagram, along with a broader recognition of how deeply these corporate platforms affect mental health.

Carolyn Hadlok :

They want to spark, they want to induce. And they want anger.

Jamie Theophilos:

It’s really interesting—one important thing to note is that we don’t actually know exactly how these algorithms work, because they’re proprietary and closed-source. We can’t see the code behind them. What we do know is that they’re driven by monetization. The goal is to make money, and the way to do that is through what’s often called the “attention economy.” These platforms are designed to keep you engaged and scrolling, so they prioritize content that captures your attention.

One finding that researchers have pointed out is that some of the most attention-grabbing content involves what one scholar refers to—though I might be slightly misquoting—as “outgroup animosity.” Essentially, posts that express outrage or hostility toward an opposing group tend to get the most likes, shares, and views. This dynamic is one of the key ways that corporate social media platforms like Meta end up fueling hate speech, harassment, and cultural polarization. Because controversial or inflammatory content attracts more attention, the algorithms amplify it—ultimately reinforcing the cycle of online conflict.

Carolyn Hadlok :

And I mean, I think back to journalism, even in the early days, it was if it bleeds, it leads. I mean, in some ways it's been a universal precept of doing this.

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, it’s definitely not entirely new. I think the history of radio shock jocks is a great example, and so is the rise of reality TV—shows like The Jerry Springer Show were built on being outlandish and attention-grabbing. There’s definitely a lineage when it comes to the attention economy and the importance of capturing attention. But I also believe there’s something relatively unprecedented about social media. It amplifies everything—especially in terms of scale and speed—in a way that feels fundamentally different from what came before.

Natalie Mill:

I found your take on cancel culture really interesting, especially from what you mentioned earlier. How would you describe the benefits of cancel culture from your perspective, and what do you see as some of the downsides? Because it seems like some people get canceled without much reason, while others are held accountable for very valid reasons.

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, I would say that I’m relatively glad I know about people like Jeffrey Epstein or Harvey Weinstein to a certain extent. But I’m also curious—when people hear the phrase “cancel culture,” what comes to mind for them? It seems like it’s become a broad and politicized term, often tied to phrases like “social justice warrior” or “snowflake,” which themselves carry a wide range of meanings depending on who’s using them. The images I associate with online toxicity or the ways we respond to harassment may be very different from what others have experienced.

I think my perspective is shaped by the fact that I’ve both been called out and have called others out—mostly when I was much younger—and those experiences had a real impact on me. When I think about what makes a call-out feel justified, it often comes down to the severity of the behavior and how resistant someone is to feedback or to making amends. That kind of accountability aligns with my values.

So I don’t know if I’d go as far as to say “cancel culture is good,” but I do have strong criticisms of the way discourse around it has developed. It often flattens the complexity and nuance that I think these situations really require.

Carolyn Hadlok :

And it's almost just like the phrase itself cancels culture versus just holding someone accountable, but that's not as provocative.

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, exactly. And I think the main thing that I really care about is just realizing that none of us are above causing harm, hurting people and messing up.

Natalie Mill:

And so what kind of questions do you think that we need to ask ourselves? Because it kind of deals with this idea of inner polarity and what is right and what is wrong, and what's the gray area within ourselves, so what kind of questions and what kind of realization do you think we need to come to to figure out what we think is right and wrong?

Jamie Theophilos:

I really care about encouraging people to define their own sense of right and wrong—even though that gets into philosophical territory about whether objective morality exists, which I won’t try to tackle here. What matters to me is that people are always learning from others, interrogating themselves, and recognizing that even their own moral positions are filled with nuance. I value humility and the willingness to challenge oneself, and I care deeply about those qualities.

I say that as someone with strong political convictions—not because I try to hide or dilute my beliefs on issues I care about, but because I’m more concerned with how I treat people in day-to-day interactions. When it comes to thinking about polarity, what interests me most is the intersection of media technologies and cultural division—how we witness these large-scale online culture wars. That’s something I tend to observe quietly, or “lurk,” as it’s called in online ethnography.

But even within my own political or subcultural circles, I’ve noticed a kind of self-righteousness or conflict avoidance that isn’t always about big political disagreements—it’s often about smaller, everyday tensions. What has impacted me most aren’t the high-profile political debates, but rather the subtle, mundane moments—like the way people speak to each other, how quick we can be to judge, or how unwilling some are to simply hear that they may have hurt someone. Those micro-level instances have influenced me more than anything happening in the middle ground between everyday life and the bigger political picture—if that makes sense.

Hannah Whipple:

We have so many inherent biases and I think it's kind of out of our control sometimes how we…

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, absolutely—I think acknowledging that is really important. One theme that I believe this podcast challenges a bit is the idea that we always have to hear both sides and that everyone needs to get along. While that sounds fair on the surface, I think that mindset can sometimes be wielded in problematic or even harmful ways. That’s part of why I find the concept of polarity so interesting—it highlights how tricky it can be to navigate this idea of balance without leaning too far into a false sense of neutrality where every perspective is treated as equally valid, regardless of context.

Carolyn Hadlok :

One of the lines that really stood out to me from the manifesto was, “We have to all recognize that we are polarized,” and I think that recognition begins with self-awareness. That feels like a meaningful place to wrap up. This conversation has made me realize that you bring a really thoughtful perspective to the topic of polarity. It’s not about trying to see all sides equally—it’s about being open. Open to having your mind changed, to zooming out, to practicing empathy and self-awareness. And ultimately, all of that happens in deeply individual, subjective moments.

Jamie Theophilos:

Yeah, no, I agree with that. I think that it gets really confusing.

Natalie Mill:

And to lean away from herd mentality and go off of what you think is cool.

Jamie Theophilos:

I just want less jerks in the world.

Carolyn Hadlok :

Yeah. Well, yeah, that's a good goal. And I think also just starting small, and I think the idea of not giving away your power, not letting when somebody does something that offends you or hurts you to give away, to give them the satisfaction of being offended by it, but then advocating for yourself. So it's a very, very complicated subject, but I think you've brought a lot of really interesting perspectives. Thank you for sharing your own personal experiences too. I think that is, especially because one of the things we talked about with Polarity is what's your generation's viewpoint of it, which is really what I'm trying to do is facilitate a season that lets you explore the different dimensions and the different ways.

Jamie Theophilos:

It is interesting to think about how different generations understand polarity in different ways. That's actually super fascinating.

Carolyn Hadlok :

Thank you so much for listening to this episode. This episode was created and produced at the IU Media School as part of the Beautiful Thinkers Podcast, IU edition. To follow along the season, check out the Beautiful Thinkers Project on Instagram and LinkedIn. Special thanks to Bella Grimaldi for our music and the students who researched and recorded this episode. Hannah Whipple, Selena Ayub, and Natalie Mill.