PUBLISHED
January 11, 2026
KARACHI:
The phone is already in her hand when the question forms. Not a complicated one, not something that needs research. Just a small uncertainty, the kind that appears in the middle of an ordinary day. She could ask someone. She could read. Instead, her thumb moves almost on its own. She opens an app, not to message or scroll aimlessly, but to look for an answer.
There is no typing at first. No careful phrasing. No sense that she needs to know the right words. A few seconds later, faces begin to appear. Someone explains. Someone else shows. Another person repeats the same steps, slightly differently. She watches closely, pausing once, rewinding, then moving on. Within minutes, the uncertainty feels manageable.
Scenes like this are becoming familiar across Pakistan. A student trying to understand a concept before class. A parent figuring out how to fix something at home. A traveler deciding where to go next. A decision that once might have sent someone to a search engine or a written guide now leads elsewhere. The instinct is no longer to read first. It is to watch.
This shift is not always deliberate. Many people do not describe it as a change at all. It simply feels easier. Video shows what words often struggle to explain. It allows people to see a process unfold, to judge for themselves whether something looks right, whether the person explaining seems confident, whether the steps make sense. Instead of trusting a single source, viewers move between multiple voices, comparing, confirming, and absorbing information in fragments.
Searching, in this form, becomes less about finding the perfect answer and more about sensing one. The act is visual and human. It carries tone, expression, and experience in ways text rarely can. For many users, especially younger ones, this is now the most natural way to learn, decide, and move on.
Without much notice, searching has begun to look less like reading and more like watching.
Not reading first
For a long time, searching was closely tied to reading. It meant scanning lines of text, opening links, and trying to piece together an answer from paragraphs written by people you could not see. The process demanded patience and, often, a level of comfort with abstraction. You had to imagine the steps, translate instructions into action, and trust that the explanation on the page would hold up once you tried it yourself.
That rhythm has begun to change. Learning now often arrives through demonstration rather than description. Instead of reading how something works, people prefer to watch it being done. A concept explained through movement, gesture, and sequence feels immediate. It removes the guesswork that text can introduce. You do not have to imagine the step. You see it.
Step by step visuals shorten the distance between question and clarity. They feel faster, not necessarily because they save time, but because they reduce mental effort. Watching someone perform a task allows the viewer to follow along at their own pace. They can pause, rewind, or move ahead. The information does not sit still on the page. It unfolds.
This has also changed how trust is formed. Authority no longer rests solely in credentials or polished language. It emerges through repetition and comparison. People watch more than one explanation, not to find the most official answer, but to see what remains consistent across different voices. When the same idea appears again and again, demonstrated in similar ways, it begins to feel reliable. The confidence comes from pattern rather than position.
Senior Journalist Ali Tahir Mughees who has worked in all forms of media, print, electronic and now running his own digital platform named ‘Other News PK’ and also runs a podcast, describes this shift as part of a broader media evolution. “Digital is where print media and electronic media combine. First, your words and still pictures were important, then came broadcast media where video and going live mattered. Digital media is the convergence of both print and broadcast media, where pictures, words, videos and live broadcast all meet each other,” he says.
In his view, earlier forms of media each had limits. Print could be revisited but could not show movement. Broadcast could show video but disappeared once it aired. Digital spaces combine both, allowing people to return to visual explanations as many times as they need.
What has changed, then, is not just the format of information but the way people approach it. Searching no longer feels like a solitary act of reading and interpreting. It feels more like being shown. The answer is not fixed in a paragraph. It exists across multiple demonstrations, experienced rather than absorbed.
At this stage, the shift is largely practical. It reflects how people want to learn, not what they expect from the systems that deliver information. The deeper implications, for trust and responsibility, come later.
Why video works
What makes video powerful is not only speed. It is the feeling of clarity that arrives with it. Even when the information is simple, video does something text often cannot. It shows the human side of an answer. A voice that sounds certain or unsure. Hands that move confidently or hesitate. A face that looks like yours, living in a similar place, using the same tools, making the same small mistakes before getting it right.
This is why video often feels intuitive rather than merely convenient. It is not read and interpreted in the same way. It is absorbed through cues that people have relied on all their lives. Tone, expression, body language, and the pace of explanation carry meaning. They offer a kind of reassurance that a paragraph cannot provide, even when the paragraph is accurate.
For many users, trust begins before the content even reaches the point. It begins with whether the person feels real. Whether they speak in a familiar way. Whether they show the messy parts, the hesitation, the correction. In a country where advice has always travelled through people more than paper, this feels natural. Information does not arrive as a claim. It arrives as a demonstration.
It also changes how people decide what is true or useful. Instead of searching for one definitive source, viewers build confidence through repetition. They watch three videos, then five. Not because they enjoy uncertainty, but because comparison has become the method. Each clip acts like a second opinion. When different creators show similar results, the viewer feels they have verified it themselves.
Mughees explains why these matters in practical terms. “Because ‘seeing is believe they say’. When there is a step-to-step guide of how you can change the color composition of a video in a premiere pro or if I want to register for the YouTube partnership program its away easier to get your work done while looking at the video simultaneously,” he says.
In that sentence is the real appeal of video search. It lets people do and learn at the same time. The screen becomes both instruction and companion. It reduces the distance between knowing and doing. It makes learning feel less like study and more like participation.
But there is also something else happening beneath the convenience. When people begin to treat what they see as proof, the act of discovery changes shape. It becomes emotional as well as informational. It becomes personal as well as practical.
If people now rely on what they see, then the stakes of discovery begin to change.
Search inside content
As watching became the first instinct, search did not arrive as a separate action. It followed quietly. People were already scrolling, already pausing on videos that explained something useful, already saving clips to return to later. The need to look for answers did not disappear. It simply changed shape.
Search did not replace watching. It grew out of it. Curiosity, discovery, and answers began to sit in the same place. A question no longer marked a break in the experience. It became part of the flow. Someone would watch a video, feel a gap in understanding, and immediately look for another that went a step further. The movement from interest to information became seamless.
This is the context in which platforms like TikTok began to see search emerge as a core behaviour rather than a feature. According to Asma Anjum, Regional Trust and Safety Lead for South Asia, the kinds of questions people ask reveal how practical this shift has become. “People are increasingly turning to video for practical, everyday questions. We see searches for cooking tutorials, fitness guidance, travel planning, DIY skills, and even explainers on complex or emerging topics,” she says.
What draws people to these searches is not novelty but clarity. “Video allows users to see real experiences and explanations. It feels intuitive, faster to understand, and easier to compare across multiple perspectives,” Asma explains. In her view, this does not signal the end of traditional search. “This shift isn’t replacing traditional search. It shows how people increasingly prefer to learn visually, understand faster, and explore information in a more intuitive way.”
As platforms observed this behaviour, search began to feel like a natural extension rather than an added layer. “As TikTok evolved, we saw that people weren’t just watching videos, they were actively looking for information,” Asma says. “Search became the natural extension of that behaviour.” The goal, she explains, was not to pull users away from content but to allow curiosity to move smoothly within it. “People want answers that are relevant, visual, and contextual, not just static text.”
The result is an experience where discovery rarely feels deliberate. Someone may arrive for entertainment and leave with information they did not know they were looking for. “Integrating search more deeply allows users to move seamlessly from curiosity to discovery within the same experience,” Asma says.
What stands out is how invisible this shift feels to the user. Search does not announce itself as a separate step. It blends into watching so smoothly that it barely registers as a choice. A viewer moves from one explanation to the next, guided by curiosity rather than intention. But when searching becomes this effortless, it also becomes easier to accept what appears on the screen without pause. As discovery turns visual and continuous, the question is no longer just how people find information, but how they begin to judge it.
Context and certainty
Video does not just deliver answers. It frames them. It places information inside a human setting, shaped by voice, expression, and experience. What the viewer absorbs is not only what is being said, but how it is being said and by whom.
That shift is also visible in what people are actually searching for. In its annual report, TikTok said searches linked to #TravelTok increased by 53 per cent, while #FoodTok rose by 52 per cent. Searches under #StudyTok were up 60 per cent, and #FitnessTok recorded the largest jump, growing 66 per cent compared to 2024. The pattern is consistent. People are not just watching content related to these themes. They are actively looking for it, using video to plan trips, decide what to cook, study, or make choices about their health.
This added context is one of video’s strongest appeals. An explanation no longer arrives stripped of background. It comes with cues that help viewers decide whether something feels believable. The person speaking might look confident or unsure. They might speak from personal experience or repeat something they have heard elsewhere. These signals matter, even when users are not consciously registering them.
Asma describes this shift clearly. “Video adds context. You can see who is explaining something, how it’s being demonstrated, and whether it aligns with your own experience,” she says. For many users, this visual grounding feels reassuring. It allows them to place information against their own reality, rather than accepting it in isolation.
At the same time, video changes how certainty is formed. Instead of relying on a single authoritative source, people increasingly rely on comparison. “Many users tell us that watching a few short videos helps them compare perspectives quickly, rather than relying on a single written source,” Asma says. Confidence builds through repetition. When similar explanations appear across different videos, the viewer feels they have done their due diligence.
But comparison brings its own complications. When relatability becomes a marker of trust, credibility can begin to blur. A person who speaks well, looks familiar, or shares the viewer’s background may feel more convincing than an expert who does not. The line between experience and expertise becomes harder to distinguish, especially when both are delivered through the same format.
This matters most during moments of uncertainty. In everyday situations, the stakes may be low. But the same habits apply when people search for information about health concerns, unfolding crises, elections, or emergencies. The instinct to watch and compare does not switch off. It simply carries more weight.
Asma acknowledges this tension. “That said, this also increases the responsibility on platforms to ensure that discovery happens in a safe and informed way,” she says. The concern is not that people are watching video, but that they may rely heavily on what they see without always stopping to question it.
The shift is not dramatic enough to feel alarming, but it is significant enough to matter. When context and comparison become the primary ways people decide what to trust, the burden of discovery begins to change. What appears on the screen, how it is framed, and what follows next start to carry more influence than a single search result ever did. In a visual search world, responsibility does not arrive as a warning. It arrives quietly, built into the experience itself.
Designing responsibility
As searching becomes increasingly visual, responsibility takes on a different shape. It is no longer limited to what information exists online, but how that information appears, repeats, and guides attention. When people rely on what they see, especially in moments of uncertainty, the experience itself begins to influence judgement. The question is no longer only about access, but about design.
For platforms where discovery happens through video, responsibility cannot sit outside the product. It has to be part of how information is surfaced, contextualised, and supported. Asma frames it this way, “When discovery becomes more visual, responsibility becomes even more important. People may rely heavily on what they see, especially during moments of uncertainty.” The risk, she suggests, is not that people are curious, but that curiosity can lead them into complex or sensitive areas without enough guidance. “For us, that means designing safety, accuracy, and context into the product itself, rather than treating them as afterthoughts,” she says. “At TikTok, responsibility is not a layer added later. It is part of how we build search, organize information, and protect users across different contexts.”
That responsibility shows up first in how misinformation is handled. According to Asma, the platform does not allow harmful misinformation and maintains clear policies across areas where the stakes are high. “We have robust policies around specific types of misinformation like medical, climate change, and election misinformation, as well as misleading AI generated content, conspiracy theories, and public safety issues like natural disasters,” she says. Harmful misinformation is removed regardless of intent, and accounts that repeatedly post it are taken down. Detection relies on a mix of automated systems, user reports, and intelligence shared by experts and partners. “We detect misinformation through automated technology, user reports, and proactive intelligence briefings from experts and our fact checking partners,” she adds.
But moderation alone does not address how people encounter information in the first place. This is where guidance becomes central. For certain kinds of searches, especially those linked to safety, wellbeing, elections, or emergencies, the platform introduces additional cues within the search experience. “In addition, for certain types of searches, particularly those related to safety, well being, elections, or emergencies, TikTok introduces search interventions,” Asma explains. These interventions are designed to support users rather than stop them. “These are designed to guide users toward credible information and trusted resources, rather than leaving them to navigate complex topics on their own.”
Asma is careful to describe these tools as supportive rather than restrictive. “Search interventions are built into the search experience,” she says. “When someone looks for information around sensitive or high risk topics, the platform may surface additional context, guidance, or links to authoritative sources.” The intention, she adds, is not to block interest. “The aim is to support it responsibly by making reliable information easier to access.”
Fact checking plays a similar background role. Through its global programme, the platform works with independent organisations to assess the accuracy of content. “Through TikTok’s global fact checking program, we work closely with over 20 International Fact-Checking Network (IFCN) accredited fact checking organizations to assess the accuracy of content and support informed, responsible moderation decisions,” Asma says. “Fact checkers do not moderate, action, or label content directly on TikTok,” she explains. Instead, their assessments help moderation and policy teams apply rules consistently. “Combined with search interventions, this approach helps balance open discovery with the need for accuracy and user safety.”
Taken together, these measures function less like barriers and more like guardrails. They do not interrupt the act of searching, but shape its direction, especially when the subject carries weight. The system assumes that people will continue to watch, compare, and decide. The responsibility lies in ensuring that what they encounter along the way does not quietly mislead them.
What remains less visible is how users themselves experience this guidance. For those who have grown up watching answers rather than reading them, visual search is not a feature. It is the default way of learning. And it is in that everyday use, shaped by habit rather than policy, that the next set of questions begins to surface.
Learning by watching
For students who have grown up with a phone always within reach, searching through video does not feel like a shift. It feels like the natural order of things. Answers are something you watch, not something you look up. Learning happens in fragments, picked up between classes, during commutes, or late at night, guided by curiosity rather than structure.
A university student Bareera Asad in Karachi describes it simply. “If I need an answer quickly, I usually open a video app first. Even if I don’t know exactly what I am looking for, I know someone will explain it in a way I can understand.” For her, the habit is automatic. Video is not reserved for entertainment. It is where practical questions go.
What makes it easier, she says, is not just speed but clarity. “When I read something, I sometimes have to read it twice. In a video, I can see what they are doing and follow along. It feels less confusing.” Watching also allows room for doubt. She rarely relies on one clip alone. “I usually watch more than one video. If everyone is saying the same thing, then I feel more confident about it.”
That confidence, however, is not blind. She admits that relatability can be misleading. “Sometimes someone sounds very sure, but later I realise they were just sharing their own experience.” There are moments when she pauses, especially around health or sensitive issues. “I have questioned things before. If it feels extreme or rushed, I try to look for other sources.”
Asked whether platforms should play a role in guiding users during serious searches, she does not hesitate. “I think they should. Especially when people are stressed or scared. At that time, you just want answers.” She does not expect to be told what to think, but she values direction.
Her experience mirrors a broader pattern. Sections like LearnOnTikTok, which surface educational content alongside everyday discovery, fit naturally into this behaviour. They are rarely perceived as formal learning spaces. They are simply part of where answers appear. For students like her, the boundary between learning and scrolling has largely disappeared.
What remains is an evolving relationship with trust. “I don’t trust just one person,” she says. “I trust patterns. If something makes sense across different videos, then I accept it.”
Searching, in this form, is no longer a deliberate act. It is woven into daily life. It reflects how people have always learned from one another, by watching, listening, and repeating what feels right. Video has not replaced thinking. It has simply reshaped how thinking begins.
What makes this shift significant is not the technology itself, but the instinct behind it. People are not chasing distraction. They are looking for clarity. They want to see how something works before they decide what to do. They want answers that feel human.
There are no clean conclusions to draw yet. Searching through video is still evolving, shaped by behaviour as much as by design. What is clear is that the act of searching has become more personal, more intuitive, and more visible. In watching others explain the world, people are also learning how to decide what, and who, to believe.
