The good, the bad, the dumb and the dangerous - looking at influencers in times of corona

This article stopped me from ranting on Twitter to my minimal followers. BTW, follow me there: @fraeji

If you haven’t noticed, there’s been somewhat of a pandemic sweeping across the globe for the last few months. Thousands worldwide have been killed by this mysterious virus, hurling economies into meltdown, essential workers into overdrive and unleashing a fear of the unknown into many that, as we know it, will be instilled in us for the foreseeable future. The world as we know it simply cannot go back to ‘normal’ - what the hell was ‘normal’ again, anyway? - and in these trying times it is only natural to simply sit back and wallow in these uncertain waters, waiting for the pandemic to slow down.

With so much time on the hands of many who have the luck of being safe and stable at home, we’ve been faced with an unprecedented amount of time that we could use for taking up a new hobby, to learn a language, to learn to cook sourdough properly (along with the millions of others attempting to and lamenting about their saggy loaf on Instagram) - or, to just sit back, crack open the laptop and scroll through hundreds of pages of internet trash.

Of course, this internet trash cannot consist or exist without the backbone of internet trash itself; and often, I’ll admit, very delicious internet trash; the influencers who continue to feed our stimulation-starved minds with irrelevant, infuriating and questionable treats. It’s not a lie to say that oftentimes we relish in influencer drama schadenfreude, which is only amplified in lockdown and the boredom that many feel during this time.

Over the last few weeks, I admit I’ve been unsuccessful at ignoring the stupid amount of influencers getting into hot water and facing backlash over, what I would call ‘dumb shit’. Multi-million net worth celebrities complaining about being stuck indoors in a house with a pool, tennis court and saunas, C-list influencers on Instagram breaking quarantine to have one-night-stands with a Twitter fan, others blatantly leaving their homes in New York to escape to the Hamptons and lying about it - the list goes on in an entertaining yet quite depressing spiel. It is impossible to open Twitter without seeing some micro-influencer getting cancelled, a San Francisco VC complaining that they can’t get their favourite coffee every morning or showing off their new $2000 Peloton (I just had to buy it, I’d go insane otherwise!). And then there’s the yogis and health influencers retweeting and sharing the same ‘you’re being lied to! It’s all a scam’ content, something that would be easily ignored if it weren’t for the sheer amount of people agreeing with them and the size of their respective audiences. But we’ll get to that rant another day.

I didn’t want to be the writer who writes about my irk with social media influencers, as I believe that topic is evergreen and I myself don’t lean into that vortex too often. You could literally write a doctoral thesis on how they’re all useless, annoying and provide no benefit to society, which I wouldn’t write, as I don’t agree that that is indeed the case. There are some very genuine, helpful influencers out there who have provided guidance, actual influence - hello, their job title - over these last few weeks. It’s just that I cannot help but wonder - does this time of self-reflection, realisation of what actually matters and upfront crises erase the need of influencers? Let me explain.

Influencers rely on material and financial flexing in order to 1. garner engagement from their fans, 2. keep themselves financially afloat, as we all do, and 3. continue their content and rhetoric style that gained them a following in the first place.

Let’s break that down.

Nowadays, where terrifying percentages of workers have lost their jobs and many face the very real possibility of losing their homes, loved ones and pandemic financial relief, it is - in every circumstance - completely and utterly tasteless to show off any sponsorships or financial wins that an influencer comes into. An example: in a time when sex workers, who are historically ridiculed, unprotected and often killed for their trade, have turned to digital outlets such as OnlyFans in order to survive, I can only imagine the anger and disrespect felt when a white, privileged nano-Instagram influencer decides not only to join the site themselves, but to completely disregard the hard work, effort and stigma that goes with this trade. Said influencer then posts to her 59k followers on Twitter that she’s looking at a ‘six figure salary’ for posting lazy, badly-filmed pornographic content on a site where hundreds of sex workers, who had been ridiculed for using the site in the first place, are trying to scrape together money to pay rent and buy groceries while at the same time working their ass off to create content to keep them afloat.

Another example. Arielle Charnas of Instagram faced unprecedented but, honestly, pretty well-deserved backlash after she posted a video of her fleeing New York with suspected Covid-19 symptoms to her Hamptons house, while hashtagging her #Sponsored #Volvo in her post. After a hounding from her fans and the general disgust felt at such an insensitive action, she posted the celebrity-favourite strategy of a notes app apology in a watered-down attempt of saying sorry.

It’s not impossible to understand the concept that it’s completely tasteless and cruel for any influencer with pre-existing wealth to brag about financial wins during this time. Of course, that does not mean that influencers shouldn’t be getting paid, any many unfortunately have run into financial hardships since lockdown - losing sponsors, ad revenue and more. But it’s this tone-deafness and inability to understand that there is a world outside many an influencer bubble that is suffering, in turmoil and in a state of despair that these influencers, most of the time, will not understand or appreciate. Again, not saying that influencers are immune to hardship that comes from Covid-19 - I simply use these two influencers as an example.

So, if an influencer can’t sell you stuff or flex sponsorships for the time being, what can they do? Well, it seems only obvious as the name in their title - to influence, of course!

So what can they influence in this scary time?

What I have found entertaining, but also slightly dystopian, is how some influencers continue to try to influence through their original means and themes. Still trying to influence, but running out of things to influence with under lockdown. Pedalling their clothes line or talking about what they’re having for breakfast while the global pandemic hums in the background like a dodgy fridge. It’s a weird thing to watch.

I couldn’t write this essay without the recognition of a select few influencers who have actually done some good in this pandemic; donating huge amounts of money for PPE, frontline workers, scientists who are all trying to win this battle for us. Informing their followers of places to donate, encouraging them to stay indoors and practice social distancing. I think this influence is what the internet needs right now, along with some uplifting stories and encouraging content which can brighten even the dullest of days. This brings me to my final musing, the question of what influence actually should be; what it should consist of, and who it should come from.

We have to ask ourselves if we really need to follow and fuel the fires of those who don’t influence us in the ways we need right now, and maybe try to redefine the meaning of influencer altogether. We need real, relatable people who lift up the glitzy life on the surface and show a genuine, honest struggle to maintain a happy face in lockdown; we need them to mirror how we are feeling and make the lonely in us feel a little less alone. We ourselves can be influencers, we can take the awful things going on around us and turn it into something good, taking this time to learn more and appreciate the little things in our lives. Or not, it’s your quarantine, after all!

The thing is, for many celeb-savvy followers, this schadenfreude of seemingly irrelevant influencers getting ‘cancelled’ would taste a lot more sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that their actions have very real, terrible consequences for others. If they didn’t say and do such insensitive and tone-deaf things in a current global pandemic, in which they stumble blindly around in their privileged dome, it might even count as entertainment.

Influencers live and work bound by meticulously crafted timelines and impressions of total order, quirkiness and a perfect-seeming life. Now we have the time to see through these manufactured mediums, influencers have the perfect opportunity to overhaul their image and purpose. Now is the time when we might just realise that we don’t need to follow people who influence an illusion of what could be, built on sponsors and financed by brands we could never dream of working with. It’s becoming easier to see through an influencer posting about the need for appreciating the small things and mouthing off material wealth, when in reality, when this is over, they’ll be straight back to flaunting their material possessions and privilege once again.

In the absence of leadership from the higher ups, we often turn to influencers to give us some kind of guidance or hope. I just don’t feel that it can come from watching a multimillionaire make sourdough in their mansion, complaining of being stuck inside while their turquoise pools sparkle in the background and their Hamptons homes wait in the wings, just in case.