Is the Era of Influencer Culture Coming to an End?

Influencers — those irritating (and increasingly) politically charged figures who’ve shaped much of online culture over the past decade — might finally be heading down the same path as the Apple Watch: once a flashy trendsetter, now a tacky relic.

When a pumped-up fitness enthusiast went viral in late March with a video showcasing his daily six-hour morning routine filled with 4 a.m. push-ups, mineral water ice baths, and banana peel facials, it was swiftly ridiculed.

Hipsters shared their own mocking morning rituals, puffing on flavored vapes and downing Red Bull; grandmothers filmed themselves inserting their dentures before settling in on the toilet. One man from India gave his version: dipping his face in chutney before jumping on the phone to scam Westerners out of their banking details.

Frankly, even the most ardent followers are starting to grow tired of how disingenuous influencing has become.

Accounts like Instagram’s Influencers In The Wild (now boasting 5.2 million followers) first gained traction by sharing candid, alternative-angle videos of clout chasers doing their thing in public — often revealing how staged and absurd their antics are.

Recently, eight influencers in China developed a foot fungus simultaneously — it was later uncovered they had been sharing the same pair of Gucci tights for content pretending to be rich and glamorous.

Internet detectives have discovered fake private jet studios where influencers pay about $60 to rent space to fabricate the illusion of private air travel. Additionally, some luxury hotels have begun banning influencers altogether, fed up with their requests for free stays or the pooling of funds to rent suites for pretending to be fabulous.

Numerous other digital trendsetters are being exposed for their unsavory behavior: like the couple who asked a London-based musician to travel to their extravagant Ibiza wedding, write a personalized song for them, and perform a one-hour set. They couldn’t pay him but promised to compensate with “promo posts.”

Many individuals are tired of feeling inadequate compared to those who likely lead more complicated lives than average; today, the highest value in media is authenticity.

This is one reason cable news has plummeted, while podcasts are thriving — the latter offers candid discussions with personalities whom the audience relates to.

In contrast to the polished, scripted drama of television — or a travel vlogger gushing about a “remote paradise” that’s actually just an AI-enhanced tourist trap.

Furthermore, expectations for authenticity extend to our politicians as well. Trump’s straightforward demeanor and off-the-cuff, lengthy rallies stood in stark contrast to Kamala Harris’s meticulously crafted duplicity and artificial laughter.

Social media users have also become privy to staged Birkin bags and fake housewives lamenting over minor issues, like their child’s artisanal-packed lunch featuring a gold-dusted bento box. Political influencers are now facing pushback, too.

Last month, as the DOGE movement clipped government waste and Trump’s HHS Secretary RFK Jr. aimed to Make America Healthy Again, several notable MAGA X accounts unexpectedly defended the use of food stamps for sugary items such as Coke.

Utilizing a “small government”/anti-authoritarian narrative, the initiative may have been bolstered by payments from Big Soda, particularly since sweetened beverages account for 10% of the USDA’s $113 billion food stamp expenditures and an estimated 20-40% of Coke’s revenue.

For these influencers, it was a significant blunder that jeopardized their credibility, assuming their audience would accept that welfare recipients purchasing junk food with taxpayer dollars somehow aligned with core libertarian principles.

Even worse, many attempted to turn the president’s infamous fondness for Diet Coke into part of their argument — suggesting that opposing taxpayer money funding Coca-Cola meant failing the MAGA purity test.

Beyond pay-for-play dynamics, X has morphed into an incessant engagement machine since it began rewarding posts financially, amplifying the post-election aimlessness of political influencers and reducing daily news to a cacophonous echo chamber of simplistic, clickbait noise.

It seems more individuals are tuning out from this artificial pursuit; according to advertising giant Hill Holiday, 34% of Gen-Zers have deleted one or more social media accounts.

And that news might just be a relief for parents.

A 2023 survey found that 56% of Gen-Zers aspired to become influencers, compared to another study indicating that a similar percentage of children in China dream of being astronauts.

American youth seem to view influencing as an easy route to wealth. Parents, it’s time for an important conversation — reality clearly suggests a different narrative.