In science, the observer is a powerful force that must be contended with. This is seen most readily in particle physics, where subatomic particles are extremely sensitive—so much so that the very act of observing or measuring something directly changes the phenomenon being studied.

Try to precisely measure the activity of light particles? The act of measurement causes these particles to behave differently. Attempt to measure something’s exact temperature? A thermometer must absorb some thermal energy to record a temperature, therefore changing the temperature of the body it is measuring.

This phenomenon is known as The Observer Effect: Observation itself becomes a variable that influences the property being observed.

The Observer Effect, it turns out, is just as powerful in the domain of creativity. The very existence of an audience influences the artistic process itself. And unlike physics, this isn’t restricted to the immediate audience - the mere anticipation of an audience’s observation is sufficient to dramatically alter the creative work. As we’ve seen, this is the essence of audience capture: The creative process isn’t just influenced by the audience, but by our internalized model - however distorted or inaccurate - of what we think the audience wants.

To understand how to resist audience capture, we first must understand the deeper social psychology that lies at its foundation. Along the way, we’ll examine a creative legend that appeared resistant to it’s pull: Miles Davis.

Let’s dive in

Social Radar and Audience Capture

Humans are deeply social creatures. We are wired to seek validation, to read the emotional states of those around us, and to adjust our behavior in ways that foster connection. This general tendency to notice and adjust to social cues is called social radar. And it runs deep - this ability to track social cues is so fundamental that even newborns instinctively mimic facial expressions. It’s human nature to be shaped by those around us.

In many scenarios, a strong social radar is a big asset. It allows politicians to read a room and adapt their rhetoric in real-time, making them more persuasive. It helps comedians refine their timing, sensing exactly when to pause for laughter or when a joke isn’t landing. It allows business leaders to navigate complex negotiations, intuiting the unspoken concerns of their counterparts. Social Radar helps people forge connections, sense subtle shifts in group dynamics, and avoid social missteps.

In the realm of creativity, though—especially when it comes to retaining our independence and resisting the pulls of audience capture—a sharp Social Radar can be a liability. Whether we realize it or not, we are constantly attuned to the imagined reception of our work, subtly shaping it in ways that align with perceived social expectations.

You can think about Social Radar as the social psychology version of The Observer Effect. What observation is to particle physics, the audience is to the creative process. Unlike physics, though, which applies universally and without exception, Social Radar varies tremendously across individuals. Some people are simply more in tune with the social environment than others.

Miles Davis as a Market-Driving Artist

Clearly, aloofness alone is no guarantor of anything. But when that social predilection is paired with incredible talent and ingenuity, it creates a rare creative force - someone who can push boundaries without hesitation, unburdened by external validation or market pressures. These individuals don’t just resist audience capture; they are often the ones who redefine their fields entirely, precisely because they aren’t concerned with how their work will be received. They move first, setting the pace, while the audience scrambles to catch up.

Few demonstrate this combination of talent like jazz legend Miles Davis, whose music defied convention at every turn. Rather than catering to audience expectations, he forged ahead on his own creative path, pioneering entire genres along the way. Most pop artists are heavily market-driven, taking their cues from what’s trendy and incorporating them into the art. Miles Davis, though, is what we might describe as a market-driving artist.

From the cool jazz of Birth of the Cool to the modal experimentation of Kind of Blue to the electric fusion of Bitches Brew, his discography is a testament to an artist who refused to be confined by what listeners wanted—or even what they were ready for. As William Ruhlmann describes in AllMusic, "To examine his career is to examine the history of jazz from the mid-1940s to the early 1990s, since he was in the thick of almost every important innovation and stylistic development in the music during that period. It can even be argued that jazz stopped evolving when Davis wasn't there to push it forward."

Often described as the Picasso of Jazz, Miles didn’t just create music; he redefined the landscape of jazz itself, imploring audiences to catch up to him rather than the other way around.

Why Miles Turned His Back to His Audience

As a person, Miles was seemingly unaffected by the opinions of others. He never cared much for reviews - positive or negative - and seldom seemed to seek any sort of public approval or adulation. He rarely gave interviews, and when he did, he would often lose interest in the conversation halfway through.

In one interview with CBS News from 1985, he started doodling halfway through while begrudgingly answering questions. In another, which took place in his home, he started watching a boxing match and invited the interviewee to watch it with him. Some perceived this demeanor as crude and prickly, while others merely saw it as the behavior of an aloof, whimsical artist.

This orientation to other people extended into his orientation toward his audience. His music was primary. He once remarked, "It's the first thing in my life, good or bad. I go to sleep thinking about it and I wake up thinking about it. That’s all I live for.”

And it showed. His dedication to music didn’t leave any room for consideration of the audience at all. He was once asked if he would still be considered a musician if nobody ever heard him. This question would leave pop artists like DJ Khaled ambivalent. But Miles was incredulous in his singularity: "Sure! I love music."

In live performances, he would often turn his back to the crowd when he played, paying more attention to the music of himself and his band, and ignoring the audience completely. As singer Bobby McFerrin once remarked, “Miles turned his back to the audience when he came out on stage, and he offended people. But he wasn’t there to entertain; he was all about the music."

When it came to the perennial tension between an artist and audience, Miles turned his back on the latter.

Final Thoughts on Miles Davis and Audience Capture

The relationship with one’s audience is a core variable in all marketplaces. Audience capture, as we’ve seen, can dramatically change the creator themselves.

But even if we’re left unchanged, it fundamentally alters the art itself. It becomes market-driven—a reflection of what the artist thinks the audience already wants. A hypersensitivity to external expectations can make an artist reactive rather than innovative. If every note, brushstroke, or word is filtered through an imagined audience’s gaze, the work itself risks becoming a product of social consensus rather than an expression of individual vision.

This is The Observer Effect in its most human form. Just as the act of measurement disturbs a quantum particle, the act of being observed—whether in physics or creativity—changes the thing being observed. The audience, like the physicist’s measuring device, cannot remain a passive witness. Their presence shapes the art itself.

Miles, in turning his back to his audience—literally and figuratively—escaped this influence. For those of us who are not naturally as aloof as Miles, the challenge remains: How do we create without being captured? This is where we turn next.

If we aren’t vigilant, we may find that our work, like an electron under observation, has shifted into something else entirely.

Photo by Bruno Cervera

This is the third of a multi-part series on the psychology of audience capture. Be the first to read the next segment by signing up to the newsletter (for free)

References for The Psychology and Marketplace Dynamics of Audience Capture

Akerlof, G. A., & Shiller, R. J. (2010). Animal spirits: How human psychology drives the economy, and why it matters for global capitalism. Princeton university press.

Davis, Francis (March 29, 2016). "The Book on Miles". The Atlantic. Archived from the original on April 13, 2020.

Förster, J., Friedman, R. S., Butterbach, E. B., & Sassenberg, K. (2005). Automatic effects of deviancy cues on creative cognition. European Journal of Social Psychology, 35(3), 345-359. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0146167208328166

Imhoff, R., & Erb, H. P. (2009). What motivates nonconformity? Uniqueness seeking blocks majority influence. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 35(3), 309-320.

Lanteri, A., & Carabelli, A. (2011). Beauty contested: how much of Keynes' remains in behavioural economics' beauty contests?. The European Journal of the History of Economic Thought, 18(2), 269-285.

Ruhlmann, W. (2016) "Miles Davis Biography". AllMusic. Archived from the original on June 21, 2016.