The Tyranny of "It’s All Been Done": Navigating the Modern Malaise of Originality

This sense of existential creative dread isn’t new—ironically, it’s been done before. Over a century ago, the French critic and writer Paul Valéry declared, “We enter the future backward.” Every era has faced its version of this anxiety. The post-Renaissance world wrestled with the dominance of the classical canon; the Romantics despaired over the Industrial Revolution’s perceived erosion of nature and originality. The 20th century’s Modernists broke all the rules only to ask, once the shards of tradition lay scattered at their feet, “Now what?” Today, the feeling is amplified by the relentless churn of digital content and the algorithmic march of familiarity. Memes parody memes. Reboots get rebooted. Even originality feels like a remix.

The Exhaustion of the Infinite Scroll

Let’s start with the most immediate and accessible example: social media. Every day, billions of users worldwide scroll through their feeds, encountering countless variations of the same viral trend. TikTok, for instance, thrives on repetition, where creativity often lies not in inventing something new but in how cleverly one can iterate on an existing trend. A sea shanty goes viral? Cue 10,000 remixes. A man on a skateboard drinking cranberry juice becomes a sensation? Bring on the branded recreations, nostalgia posts, and inevitable backlash.

This endless cycle leaves many with the gnawing sense that originality is not only rare but irrelevant. Why try to create something groundbreaking when the most successful content thrives on its relatability, its ability to echo what people already know and love? The result is a cultural ecosystem that often feels like a hall of mirrors, with each reflection slightly distorted but fundamentally the same.

Hollywood and the Curse of the Sequel

Nowhere is the fear of unoriginality more palpable than in Hollywood. Sequels, prequels, spin-offs, and franchises dominate the box office, while riskier, original films struggle to secure funding or wide releases. Consider the recent deluge of superhero movies, many of which draw from decades-old comic books and are themselves reboots of reboots. It’s a paradox: audiences complain about a lack of originality, yet the box office receipts suggest they’ll pay for comfortingly familiar narratives.

The phenomenon extends beyond blockbusters. Even in the world of indie cinema, filmmakers often wrestle with the burden of influence. When Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird premiered in 2017, critics likened it to nearly every coming-of-age film that preceded it, from The 400 Blows to Boyhood. While Gerwig’s film was celebrated for its specificities and unique voice, the comparisons reveal how quick we are to frame originality as a patchwork of what came before.

Literature and the Weight of the Canon

Writers are perhaps most acutely aware of the “been there, done that” syndrome. In 1928, Virginia Woolf lamented in Orlando that all biographies were written in the same dull fashion. Fast forward nearly a century, and novelists still grapple with the ghosts of their predecessors. Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, for example, is often viewed as a feminist reinterpretation of George Orwell’s 1984. Donna Tartt’s The Secret History evokes the Greek tragedies it references within its pages. Even the most original works are, in some way, part of an ongoing dialogue with the past.

This reality isn’t necessarily damning. Literary theorist Roland Barthes argued in his 1967 essay The Death of the Author that readers bring their own interpretations to texts, making every act of reading—and writing—a collaboration between past and present. In other words, originality might lie not in the story itself but in how it’s told and received.

Breaking Free from the "Nothing New" Trap

So, how do we navigate this supposed creative dead end? Is there a way to shake the pervasive sense that it’s all been done before? The answer might lie in redefining what we mean by “originality.”

1. Embrace the Remix

If we accept that all ideas are, to some extent, derivative, then the act of creation becomes one of remixing rather than inventing from scratch. Hip-hop provides a compelling example. Sampling—taking snippets of existing songs and recontextualizing them—is a cornerstone of the genre. The result is a celebration of interconnectedness rather than an obsession with novelty. Similarly, the success of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton lies in its fusion of historical narrative, rap, and Broadway tropes. By blending disparate influences, Miranda created something that felt fresh and vital.

2. Find Originality in Perspective

Another way forward is to focus less on what is said and more on who is saying it. Each person brings their unique experiences, biases, and insights to the table. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s The Danger of a Single Story highlights how diversity of perspective can breathe new life into familiar themes. A love story, for example, might not be groundbreaking, but telling it from the perspective of an underrepresented voice can make it feel entirely new.

3. Stop Worshipping Novelty

Paradoxically, the obsession with being original can stifle creativity. Sometimes, the most impactful works are those that refine or reinterpret existing ideas rather than attempting to reinvent the wheel. Steve Jobs famously said, “Creativity is just connecting things.” By focusing on connections rather than unprecedented leaps, creators can sidestep the paralysis of originality.

4. Let Go of Perfection

Finally, it’s worth remembering that the pursuit of originality is often less important than the act of creation itself. As Elizabeth Gilbert writes in Big Magic, fear of unoriginality often masks a deeper fear of vulnerability. By letting go of the need to be groundbreaking, creators can free themselves to experiment, fail, and grow.

**The Joy of "Done Before"

Far from being a creative death sentence, the realization that it’s all been done before can be liberating. It connects us to the continuum of human thought and expression, reminding us that we’re part of something larger. Whether you’re writing a novel, coding an app, or choreographing a dance, the goal isn’t to escape influence but to contribute your voice to the ongoing conversation.

In the end, originality may be less about inventing the unprecedented and more about daring to make the familiar your own. And if that’s been said before? Well, maybe it’s worth saying again.