The Papal Conclave Cam: Ushering in a New Age of Slow Television

Around the world, numerous viewers on YouTube are captivated by a static feed of the Sistine Chapel chimney. Occasionally, a seagull may descend to rest on the roof for a short while. For the most part, however, it presents a scene of complete tranquility.

On Wednesday, the College of Cardinals began the process of selecting a new pope after the passing of Pope Francis. This solemn ceremony, conducted behind closed doors, predates the age of mass media, where news is swiftly shared and garners extensive attention. Instead of officially informing the press, the conclave updates the public through smoke signals—black when no agreement has been reached and white when a decision has been made.

Initially intended for local onlookers, these smoke signals are now broadcasted globally, with numerous networks providing round-the-clock streaming of the Sistine Chapel’s exterior. There is no commentary; just the ambient sounds of a lively city square, occasionally enhanced by the calls of seagulls.

In a time when content creators on YouTube strategically craft every moment of their videos for virality, the straightforwardness of “conclave cam” is unexpectedly mesmerizing.

It recalls the Nordic phenomenon of “slow TV,” where public channels air uninterrupted footage of ordinary yet soothing visuals. Viewers can observe scenes like salmon swimming upstream, trains moving through the countryside, or moose migrating to summer ranges for hours on end.

Within the YouTube environment, the interface surrounding these “conclave cams” feels familiar—the unfiltered live chats move rapidly, akin to a vibrant stream from a popular creator. However, unlike a Fortnite Battle Royale, the topic at hand offers limited conversation. The chimney may emit black or white smoke, and the most exciting moments often occur when a bird flits across the screen.

Yet, as is common on the internet, users engage in discussions about politics, soccer, and Elon Musk. Some resort to harsh language, while others purchase super chats—prominent blocks of text that stand out in a bustling chat—to express their visions for the future of the Catholic Church.

The appeal of watching a conclave livestream lies not just in witnessing the selection of the next pope—that’s what breaking news alerts are for. Rather, it’s the serene atmosphere that attracts viewers. Office workers might open a stream in a small window on their laptops, glancing over when they see a seagull flit by in their peripheral vision. As sunset approaches, the sky slowly darkens, wrapping the scene in night.

There’s a unique spirituality in this collective gathering of strangers on a shared webpage, though it bears little relationship to the overt religiosity displayed. It’s the fundamental human urge to share an experience—even if what binds them is an unrestrained live chat.