Have You Started Farming for Aura?

Performance, authenticity, and the art of not trying (too hard).

What’s going on?

Aura farming is basically the art of putting in work to look cool – but in the most detached way possible.

The term’s been floating around for a while, but hit the mainstream media in July thanks to Rayyan Arkan Dikha – an 11-year-old from Indonesia who danced on the tip of a racing canoe wearing sunglasses with a nonchalant expression.

Clips of Dikha’s performance went genuinely viral, racking up millions of views under hashtags like #AuraFarming, #BoatRaceKidAura, and #TheReaper (his fan nickname).

Members of the public as well as A-listers including Formula 1’s Alex Albon started copying the moves – and proudly acknowledged they were farming for aura.

What’s driving it?

Aura farming is the latest evolution of the Auraverse,* which has its own a semi-ironic cultural economy built around aura points – social stats you earn or lose depending essentially on how cool you come across as.

It became a big conversation of the summer of 2024, think: “How many aura points did I lose when I sent a selfie captioned ‘I miss you’ to multiple guys but put it in a group chat?”

The rules were simple: don’t be weird; don’t look like you’re trying. (The opposite of the embracing cringe discourse – but building on the nonchalance conversation.)

Aura farming complicates things: it’s based on effort (hence the cultivation), so technically it should be cringe. But when you own it, the cringe dissolves – and the performance becomes the point.

What does it mean?

We’re in a moment where:

• Cringe is acceptable, as long as you lampshade it

• Performance is fine, provided you don’t believe in it too much

• Cool is fine, but it has to look effortless

Aura farming captures the contradiction at the heart of the matter: we want to be seen and perform, but with plausible deniability.

And in a world where AI can fake almost anything, the idea of aura (often a nebulous catch-all unless you’re Walter Benjamin) still feels human – it’s all vibes over verifiability.

But if everything’s a performance, can we still have space for vulnerability? Letting down your guard can build connection, ease anxiety, and deepen self-awareness, so there’s a real opportunity in creating moments where people can embrace it.

Final takeaway:

At its best, aura farming is joyful. At its worst, it’s just another grind. Either way, there’s scope to balance it with genuine feeling and effort.

*No one calls it that besides me, and that’s fine.