The tragic life of a content creator (late 2023)

Today I deleted my TikTok account. I had 57,000 followers, and 1.3mm likes. I published over one thousand videos over four years. I collected $430 from the TikTok creator fund. I made three friends.

Influencers do not typically speak out on atrocities because they have traded agency for celebrity. There are rules. And when you break the rules there are consequences.

When we decide to pursue Internet celebrity, we are making a choice consciously or subconsciously that it is better to try to rise above an unjust system then try to help fix it.

And with that choice, we offer up our agency in hopes we are gifted exemption from the trappings of everyday capitalism.

Those of us unlucky enough to be chosen as an influencer have a clear responsibility.

Influencers are agents of the spectacle. Their jobs are to occupy attention. Nothing more. Nothing less.

In exchange, Influencers are allowed to rent opulence, and escape the drudgery of the contemporary 9-to-5.

But, of course, there are some rules.

Rule 1:

At all times you are to play the role that the algorithm has assigned you. That role will be the version of yourself that is most marketable to the masses. Even in tears you are selling macchiatos. So keep it light.

Rule 2:

Even and especially while you are still in poverty, you must imply that you are paid well by documenting your adjacency to the elite class. When you do make money, if ever, you must spend it on the façade of wealth. No saving.

And most important of all,

Rule 3:

You can bear witness to suffering so long as you never identify a culprit. Or criticize the system that gifted you your pseudo celebrity status.

And here’s where it gets tricky.

The consequence for breaking these rules is algorithmic exile or worse. But as the system ramps up its extraction, your target audiences, those that have gifted you your platform, will experience unrest and suffering. Eventually, they’ll seek out the cause of their pain by identifying those on their FYP who have not acknowledged it.

It’s in these moments that the influencer realizes the trap.

The smart ones foresee this trap and start early. They wrap their influence in conciliatory philanthropy that holds no opinion on why such charity must exist in the first place.

It’s a noncontentious way to perform activism without ever having to challenge the system. And in times of peace, these charitable acts will strengthen the influencer’s celebrity.

But inevitably the system will do something so heinous. so horrid. That even the most aloof pacifist will begin to demand activism from the influencer they’ve invested in.

And this is the Catch-22 for the influencer. If they break rule three, they risk algorithmic exile, which is basically a career death sentence. If they stay quiet, their audiences may turn on them.

Of course, neither outcome holds any consequence to the algorithm because there’s always someone waiting in the wings to replace a fallen influencer.

Many will wisely ignore our cries in hopes it goes away. Often times things do settle down. People forget. Long term grief makes for short term memory.

Some will speak out in haste, deftly maneuvering through their monetized videos, offering a concessed acknowledgement of suffering without ever calling it out by name.

Go back and watch your favorite influencers. The ones who caved to pressure to speak on Palestine. Which words could they not bring themselves to say?

In many ways, the influencer has less freedom then their cubical dwelling counterparts.

But by the time they realize what they have become, it is too late.

Influencers are gladiators. The spectacle is watching them fight for their freedom in the social media arena. It is we as the audience who gives the proverbial thumbs up or thumbs down.