Do we take all influencers as a joke?
- Michelle Mathew
- Aug 27
- 4 min read
In a world where a selfie can earn a paycheck and a viral dance can launch a career, influencer culture has become both the icon and the punchline of our digital age. Scroll through any platform, and you’ll see content creators parodying themselves, acknowledging absurdity, or posting memes before the audience can. But does that self-awareness make them more credible — or just faster at avoiding criticism?
We often laugh at influencers, but are we laughing at their job or our inability to understand its evolution?
The Generalization Trap

It’s easy to dismiss influencers as shallow or fame-hungry. But just like entrepreneurs, actors, or artists — there’s a spectrum. Some influencers operate with purpose, storytelling, and strategy. Others chase trends for clout. A few, unfortunately, have made headlines for missteps. But when one tech startup fails, we don’t cancel all founders. So why is that reflexive judgment so common with influencers?
According to social perception theory, humans simplify complexity by categorizing. Influencers, being hyper-visible, often bear the brunt of stereotyping. We fixate on the most problematic ones because controversy is what trends. The result? A flawed narrative that paints all influencers with the same brush.
Are They Just Selling to Us?
Should we judge influencers for what they sell — or how they connect? This is where influencer marketing walks a fine line. If a creator builds trust through honest, relatable content, their brand partnerships often feel like personal recommendations. But when someone is just one long #ad, it erodes that relationship fast.
Consumer psychology explains this via parasocial relationships — the one-sided bond where fans feel they “know” an influencer. This faux intimacy builds trust, even when it’s unearned. But it’s fragile. The same fans who admire an influencer today can lead a call-out tomorrow when they fall short of expectations.
Trolling, Threats & the Fine Line

Social media trolling has evolved from mild provocation into a much darker beast. It’s no longer just sarcastic remarks or spicy memes. Today, it includes:
Rape threats
Doxxing
Body shaming
Cyberbullying
Sexual harassment
Digital harassment
Let’s be clear: this isn’t “just trolling.” It’s criminal. In many countries, such acts fall under cyberbullying laws and are punishable by fines, bans, or jail time.
Anonymity is a major enabler. Cyberpsychology studies show that the less accountable someone feels online, the crueler they become. Trolls often attack not for something an influencer did, but because they represent what the troll lacks — attention, agency, or validation. Trolling is projection.
We must teach digital etiquette like we teach grammar or manners. Otherwise, we breed a generation that vilifies strangers with zero critical reasoning. The middle ground between online cancel culture and accountability is media literacy.
Influencers vs Celebrities: A Double Standard?

Why is it that a model can land a movie and be celebrated, while a YouTuber doing the same faces ridicule? This is the influencer vs celebrity paradox.
According to status perception theory, we value traditional fame more because it appears harder to attain. Celebrities come to us through curated, distant channels — interviews, premieres, billboards. Influencers show up on our screens daily, unfiltered and often self-made. That closeness, ironically, makes them more disposable.
Still, many influencers aspire to celebrity validation — collabs, movie roles, magazine features. But in doing so, they often dilute their uniqueness to fit a mold, becoming people-pleasers. This raises the question: If your goal is credibility, why chase the very system that never gave it to you in the first place?
The Real Weight of Influence
Today, being an influencer is a career ambition. Why? Because it offers money, attention, and the illusion of control. But many chase virality without understanding the content creator responsibility that comes with reach.
Look at Soham Pareek — a controversial name who misrepresented Indian youth online through reckless stunts. Or Maximilian Schmidt, aka Shiny Flakes, a teen who ran a drug empire from his bedroom, later inspiring Netflix’s How to Sell Drugs Online (Fast). These are extreme examples, but they highlight what happens when digital power meets immature minds.
Fame without purpose is noise. If being impactful matters less than appearing impactful, we’re setting ourselves up for a culture collapse.
Echo Chambers & Algorithmic Loops

Influencer culture thrives in echo chambers. Algorithms serve you more of what you already like, creating confirmation bias bubbles. As influencers build tribes that echo their beliefs, audiences stop questioning and start mimicking. The line between influence and indoctrination blurs.
But not all is lost. Some creators use their platform to discuss social media ethics, sustainability, and even political awareness. These voices deserve more amplification — not just for their follower count, but for their content depth.
Let’s redefine “influence” as impact above followers. If a teenager starts a food drive after watching a TikTok, that’s real influence. If a makeup tutorial helps someone embrace their self-worth, that’s value.
So, Are Influencers a Joke?
No. But the joke lies in how misunderstood their role is — and how unseriously many of them take it.
The rise of influencer culture reflects our society’s values: relatability, visual appeal, and instant gratification. Some creators embody it with integrity. Others perform it for applause. It’s on us to discern who’s who.
Platforms must regulate better. Schools should teach media literacy and online behavior. And aspiring influencers must realize that the internet remembers everything. Being famous online is not just a perk — it’s a responsibility.
Influence is not a punchline. It’s a power. And like all powers, it should be earned, respected, and held accountable.







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