TacoTalks

Some thoughts on the influencer economy

Do you remember why you started your first blog?

For me, my first blog was a Piczo website made with my sister and our neighbour. I remember trawling through Fanfiction.net to create a page with quotes/excerpts from my favourite stories, and of course sharing the site with friends who would type messages in the chat box.

What about why you started Facebook? Or Instagram?

I’ll be honest and say I can no longer remember why and when I started Facebook or my first Instagram account, but I do remember why I started my first Bookstagram account: to have a public account where I could share about the books I read. And although I never said it out loud, a tiny part of me hoped that I could somehow make that account famous and use it to sell my own books.

The desire to use Instagram as a marketing platform was strong enough that I even bought and went for an Instagram course. Spoiler: my followers grew slightly but I never actually moved any books. Of course, I never actually marketed this because I noticed that the posts with the best engagement were posts with me in it and I am generally not a fan of posting pictures of myself.

This is why early this year (or was it late last year?), I decided to stop posting on Instagram. I’m not going to lie, it felt really freeing to stop, even though I still miss the dopamine hit of getting likes. This tension between wanting to stop because of the internal pressure I placed on myself and not wanting to stop because I wanted to be validated on social media is probably the reason why I decided to read all sorts of books about influencers.

I realised that pretty much no one can agree on what to think about influencers, but everyone can agree that there are downsides to it. Even more positive portrayals of influencers, such as in Swipe Up For More, which argues that Influencers Matter, agree that there are problems with posting pictures of children without their consent and there are mental health impacts to having haters on the internet. But of course, it’s easy to see why they are so positive: there are huge economic benefits to influencers. An entire ecosystem has sprung up around them, from personal assistants to agents that negotiate brand deals. Break the Internet even talks about the excessive consumption required on certain parts of the internet, consumption that certainly results in lots of money for companies.

And at the heart of it, isn’t that the problem? Influencers, or rather, our relationship with them, have trapped us in a cycle of wanting more and more. I keep thinking of all the harrowing stories I read in Get Rich Or Lie Trying, of the women who undergo risky surgeries in order to fit a certain brand, and of men and women who degrade themselves to earn a few dollars.

And that is why even after reading the positive portrayals of influencers and how they are an economic force to be reckoned with, I remain sceptical of them. It’s hard to say “yes, influencers matter and we need to support giving them more money (or as they say, being “paid fairly”)” because all this success is built on the exploitation of people. People who make the merch, people who are spending too much money for parasocial relationships, and the people who are desperate so desperate to become an influencer they would put their health in danger.

I cannot really see how to make a kinder internet or to pivot to a more ethical form of capitalism with influencers around. Even the influencers who talk about building a business while being kind to yourself, who talk about finding your community, well… I keep thinking of how this whole thing is built on commodifying yourself and the relationships you have. It feels strange (and a bit bad) to hear someone talk about how they are creating a kind and safe community and think “yes, but you want to charge people for access/additional access, that’s literally commodifying and selling relationships”. I don’t really care that there will always be a free tier, there will also always be people who need (or think they need) what you are selling and who will not be able to pay.

At the same time (and this is why I do feel bad about my cynicism), I understand why people do it. Lab Rats details the ways that jobs suck and it’s true that jobs seem to have become more and more unstable. The numbers do suggest that record profits for companies and investors are at the expense of workers, a far cry from when companies believed that jobs were for life and pensions were paid. In such an unstable environment, of course you would want to be your own boss. Of course you would want to make money the way you know it. And even if you’re a boss making your own products, of course you would want to seek influencer status because you still want to sell your products. Economic necessity is a real thing and I can’t deny that the main reason that I don’t need to aggressively monetise what I do online is because I have a full-time job.

I would like to ramble a bit on that last point about small business owners having to commodify themselves to sell things. I like talking about things on the Internet. I like talking about books and tea and having discussions and revealing little bits about my life. But I don’t like the idea that to succeed as a writer or as a small business owner, you also have to use your life to build a bond with readers to sell a product. Perhaps it’s the nature of the internet – if you were selling to someone in real life, you probably wouldn’t mind making small talk. But having to put yourself out there, to make people like you as a person before asking them to buy your things, feels like turning life into a product.

For now, I am dealing with this topic by making the decision to stay off Instagram and to generally stop trying to sell my books or start selling anything else until I figure out what I want to do online. It’s actually pretty hard because I have shiny magpie syndrome and like to try new things (I am insanely drawn to substack, for some reason), but for now, I am trying to keep the drive to create something (blog, substack, etc) separate from the desire to monetise it because I think the desire to monetise is where all my complicated thoughts on influencers and selling things on the internet and hypercapitalism come from.

Thanks for reading till the end of this mini-series! I hope you enjoyed all the related book reviews and this small essay (though it is probably more of a written ramble than a structured piece).

13 thoughts on “Some thoughts on the influencer economy

  1. I think you have a very good point in saying that at this time, being an influencer sounds like a very cool alternative to a normal nine to five job. They seem to have more fun at first sight. They can choose their own hours. And for the lucky few, it can be a lot more lucrative. Especially in a world that’s getting more expensive by the minute, this can seem very alluring. But it’s definitely also an actual full time job. And you have to give up on some things that ordinary people take for granted. That’s why some people quickly realize they’ve bitten off more than they can chew once they actually try to become an influencer.

    Also, attention is addictive. And people eventually tire of the same old. So to keep getting attention from their followers, influencers can feel the need to go further, pushing their own personal boundaries time and time again. Until they’ve gone way too far. For example, there was a Belgian influencer a while back who even went so far as to break open a grave for some likes on Instagram. And there’s a lot worse people will do eventually.

    This was a very interesting read. Well done, Eustacia 🙂

    PS: I quite like that you love trying new things. And it’s nice to see that monetizing your work is not your priority. Money alone is never a good motivator. It can be a very strong demotivator when you don’t have enough of it though. But I do have to say, there’s nothing wrong with asking a fair price for your books, which you’ve poured your heart and soul into. You put in a lot of time and energy into creating something beautiful that other people can enjoy. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get appreciated and paid a bit for your efforts. That’s my two cents anyway.

    1. I did not hear about the grave thing but that is pretty horrifying! And yes, agree that people end up doing rather terrible things in their quest for notoriety on the internet.

      Thank you for your kind words! I like trying new things and I’m bad with asking for money so it’s good for everyone else haha

  2. Have to admit I haven’t been reading all your reviews of books about influencers (because of, you know, my non-Internet job, but I see that you have been bingeing on them, so I bow to your superior knowledge of the phenomenon.

    This reminds me of a point made by Mary Harrington in her book Feminism Against Progress, to wit: when capitalism was first described by Scottish writers, it was assumed that some things weren’t for sale. Everyone should have a right to own land/a farm/a home/a shop and sell the products of their labor … but things like human beings and family relationships were assumed to belong to another sphere. Harrington points out that, when feminism did its best to break up those traditional family structures (finding them oppressive), an unexpected side effect was that they opened up everything to market forces. Now finding a mate is subject to market forces. Men and women each complain that they have to give up more and that the other sex has to give up less and gets a “better deal.” Dating sites (apparently) are have a handful of people who are hyper successful at selling themselves and a multitude who can’t complete in the “market.” Brothers and sisters, this should not be.

    Now, unfortunately, even people’s eggs and wombs are for rent, and this is not a good thing. I feel like people building their brand using pictures of their home, lifestyle, and children is somehow of a piece with this.

    My kids like to follow YouTubers, usually in their teens and twenties, who do silly stunts for videos. Once they get popular, they can get funding for more and more elaborate stunts. This seems like the most harmless kind of social media … but even there, I saw an interview with a guy who said that after about 9 years of doing this, he got fatigued from the constant need to think up new content …. but now he’s in his mid-20s and doesn’t have any other skills because the early success of his channel caused it take up all his time. Yikes.

    So, I don’t really have a solution, except that I guess we need to get offline as much as possible. I enjoy blogging, but I don’t think my blog has sold a single book for me. It’s all been through showing up in person at events and selling to people I know.

    1. I have to admit that I didn’t think about how some things were assumed to be rights and are now available for purchase but that trend sounds correct (and I’m now curious about the book you mentioned!). It’s true that almost everything seems to be available for sale on the internet, even access to people’s lives (something we didn’t really thing was possible to even monetise).

      You’ve made me think of a discussion I had in my uni days, as my teacher was trying to get us to think about the pitfalls of paying someone for privacy/giving over your data for money. Things that we assumed would be inviolable rights are now only available for those with money, and those without must give up more and more to survive/earn a living. So someone might want to be offline but they might not be able to if online is the only way they can make money…

      1. Yeah, I feel you. I mean, I need online services like Square in order to sell my stuff even in person. A few people carry cash, but far more don’t.

        I definitely recommend Feminism Against Progress. It’s really well written. A review of it will go up on my blog in September.

  3. This topic raises so many important points. I think there is some truth to the idea that people are drawn to being influencers because traditional jobs/employers really seem to have let people down. In the U. S. for sure there seems to be an increasing gap between the wealthy and everyone else, and no desire for those on top to let the wealth “trickle down” to the workers who are generating it. It’s dispiriting. And, since 2020, I think people are also valuing their free time more and influencers make it seem like their job only requires a few hours a week (even though that’s not necessarily true).

    But for sure being an influencer means in a way marketing yourself, not just the product. I could get products and reviews anywhere, but audiences seem drawn to influencers’ personalities and unique styles. There is something that feels weird and icky about selling yourself or a public persona of yourself. I guess we accept this phenomenon with celebrities, but often I think celebrities don’t want that either, but merely deal with it as the price for fame. It definitely seems weird to see more “ordinary” people having to try a version of themselves online.

    And I think it could easily lead to some mental health concerns. If people aren’t viewing my content, now it’s like they’re rejecting ME and not just the product or the reviews. And you do have to keep working for that dopamine rush of “likes” and views. And in the quest for those, I imagine one could end up working nearly all the time, constantly trying to come up with more creative ideas for content. There’s no hard break like one might get working a 9-5 job and then going home and not thinking about work anymore.

    I think the idea of influence culture is being oversold in general. People act like it’s really easy and anyone can become famous now thanks to the internet and YouTube, but it’s really more of hustle culture. And I don’t want to hustle.

    1. I’ve always viewed traditional celebrities as being famous for their art (acting/painting/etc) but I suppose now I think about it, royalty might be seen as a proto-influencer since they are famous for existing and their every move would be scrutinised?

      You’re right that all this is just part of hustle culture. We’re being sold the idea that it’s the norm/desirable to hustle 24/7 and we’re losing a lot of leisure time in this way. Honestly, I’m not a fan of this movement at all. We’re probably not alone – you pointed out wanting more free time as a reason why people might think being an influencer is great and I agree.

      Everything really does link up – hustle culture, work/pay conditions, and our need for rest and autonomy over our own time! I wonder what else is connected

      1. I guess I see celebrities as famous for their art (except the Kardashians, who are now seen as famous for being famous?). But with the rise of the internet, I think we’re also seeing at least certain celebrities invested in selling an image of themselves that is appealing to the public. Often it might be that they want/need to be seen as supporting particular causes or political viewpoints. So it’s no longer just about what they do onscreen or with their music, but also about what kind of person they are behind the scenes. Taylor Swift seems like an obvious example of a celebrity very invested in shaping public perception of who she is as a person (she sings and talks a lot about her reputation), but I don’t think she’s the only one.

        And royalty is a good example, too! The English monarchy at least seems to occupy a strange area between celebrity and something else. I think they cultivated that on purpose, since other monarchies don’t get as much news coverage, but it is rather again like the Kardashians–famous for being famous and sometimes reduced to people just talking about what clothes you wore. To me it seems pretty miserable, but I suppose it’s the trade-off for…the money and fame? Personally, I’d rather just work a normal job with just decent wages in obscurity, though.

  4. “[…] I have shiny magpie syndrome and like to try new things (I am insanely drawn to substack, for some reason), but for now, I am trying to keep the drive to create something (blog, substack, etc) separate from the desire to monetise it […]”
    I have the same urge and deal with a similar tension. Posting online can be an nice way to share your interests and interact with other likeminded people, particularly when you don’t have those kinds of connections IRL. But… though I don’t have any particular product to promote or feel a need to pursue influencer status, I do struggle with wanting that little hit of dopamine from likes or shares or whatever. When I post something and it doesn’t get engagement, even if the underlying reason for posting it was just for fun or for tracking some project progress or something, it starts to feel bad. It must be an even worse feeling for folks who hope to make a living this way.
    Plus with the slow death of Twitter (my preferred platform for the past few years), I’m also kind of at the same point as you — trying to figure out what I really want to do online.

    1. Yup, when a post doesn’t do badly (especially on platforms like IG), it just feels so disappointing even if we generally have a healthy perspective of the platform! The dopamine addiction is real, imo.

      Hopefully we can figure out how we would like to be online and keep it healthy for ourselves!

    1. Thank you! I’ve not downloaded threads and I intend to keep it this way, especially since I’ve managed to drastically cut down on Instagram!

What do you think?