It's all in the name

In our feeds, they tell us about their lives, friends, family, pets, health issues, worries, triumphs and more. Their posts are just like those our friends might share (but their posts look better, of course). Their lives become such a regular part of our own that we can’t help but feel like we know them.

When we follow these modern, digital celebrities (’influencers’ .. and meme page admins even!) and take the time to read what they have to say, we become invested enough in their online activity that it feels like we do know them. Some people like to engage and converse with these influencers. Some probably DM these influencers more often than they say “hi” to their own parents. It’s almost like we know them as well as we know our grade school friends who just got engaged over the weekend. Or at least it feels like we do when we’re done swiping through our friends’ photos and thereafter scroll down to the next post by an influencer we follow.

Then comes the sponsored posts; the #ad. 

As we look at creating a more sustainable culture, consumerism is something we need to move away from, not intensify through social media reach. Yet here we are, welcoming a shit ton of #ads with open arms just because an influencer (who we assume we know because of their digital persona) said it’s good and we should try it too. 

We tend to forget that these ‘influencers’ are random joes on the internet who may/may not have the authority to give advice about the products they are pushing or the issues the products are meant to treat. Yet we treat them like subject matter experts because of their nice photos and cute captions. 

We don’t question the ethics of their advertisements because influencers + ads go hand-in-hand; it’s the status quo, eh! But why is it okay for someone - who has no in-depth knowledge of a product or the condition it is meant to treat - to sell a product to thousands and millions of people, and also give advice to their followers and have it accepted as fact. 

(For instance: Insta-famous make-up  “artists” tend to have terrible acne and often push make-up and skincare products. If their skin is in such bad shape despite the resources (free products! spas! oo la la!) they receive, why do people still want to buy products that these acne-ridden influencers swear by and which likely contribute to their bad skin in the first place?)

Why do we even trust these internet-famous randos so much?

Don’t you think it’s time we took a step back and asked ourselves:

1. How does this person use the product? 

One influencer (who stresses her mane with daily shampoo+conditioner washes and heat styling) advertised leave-in conditioner yet washes it off daily because of a self-identified ‘oily scalp’. If she does not use the product as the general public would, how can she give a relevant/safe review of the product? 

2. How frequently has this person used the product? 

Networking influencers receive PR boxes. Lots of PR boxes. However, skin and hair care, unlike makeup and fashion, often require long-term use for results. Similarly, they require regular use for someone to identify negative side effects too (Eg. terrible buildup from the leave-in conditioner). You can’t provide an accurate and ethical opinion of the product if you hardly use the product.

3. Does this person still use the product?

Products are often pushed as amazing or a holy grail item. But if someone was advertising a brand last week and, this week, advertises another brand to treat the same thing, it brings us back to questions 1 and 2.

So, what can we do? Unfollow, duh!

By unfollowing, you stop contributing to their engagement stats which they use as currency to push more sponsored products, so you’re not directly contributing to their ability to push products willy nilly. At the same time, it’s best practice to be as free with unfollows (so as to keep your digital space fresh and relevant) as you are with follows.