“I think hating influencers has become a socially acceptable way to hate women” – that’s how Levi Coralynn started a video that divided the internet last week. There had already been a lot of influencer discourse bubbling up over the summer, especially after the owners of a Nantucket store hung up a “No Influencers” sign. Although it was meant to be a “tongue-in-cheek” sign, many influencers took it as a visual confirmation of something they were already feeling: people are growing tired of influencer culture. So, what does that mean for influencers themselves? Have they become a demonised group, ostracised from society, or are people merely reacting to public spaces being overrun by people filming without their permission? 

Naturally, you’ll find every possible take across social media, where people have been weighing in on whether hating influencers is sexist. But the tide turning against influencers is nothing new. In 2020, the way some influencers responded – or failed to respond – to pandemic lockdowns and the Black Lives Matter protests left such a sour taste that an entire online debate emerged over whether influencing was finished for good. Influencers remained, of course, but what we expect from them has continued to shift with the trends. Where audiences once longed for relatability – an impossible demand, given that popularity inevitably grants influencers a lifestyle that is, by definition, unrelatable – today’s social-media culture has swung back towards escapism.

Since influencers often become the faces of our desires reflected back at us, it’s only natural that, during particularly harrowing times, we no longer want to look into that aspirational mirror. Obviously, the word “influencer” encompasses a broad range of creators, but this is especially true of those who remain silent on the political and social issues affecting people’s everyday lives, or who continue to sell their souls to problematic brands. Critiquing these influencers is not the same as berating them for participating in “girly things”; it is about questioning their role in the capitalist hamster wheel that so many people are growing tired of.

Ahead, we asked four creators to weigh in on whether influencers are being demonised or held accountable. 

KATE GLAVAN, 27, NEW YORK

“At a time when income inequality is worse than the Gilded Age, people are tired of influencers promoting overconsumption and excessive PR hauls, showing off their unrealistic body standards and cosmetic procedures, and failing to use their platforms to highlight injustices going on in the world. The ‘no influencers’ sign is not discriminatory. I find it extremely out of touch that influencers, who have never spoke up about political injustices around the world, would quite literally issue press statements on their IG stories about a sign put up by a business on one of the most expensive islands in the US, while also constantly claiming that ‘my page is not about politics’ anytime their followers ask them to use their platform for good.”

“It is not feminist as an influencer to push the overconsumption of fast fashion, which fuels the climate crisis and disproportionately exploits women who are garment and textile workers who actually experience some of the most abuse and oppression in the world. Women who are lawyers, doctors and politicians are also not taken seriously in the workforce and experience misogyny on a day-to-day basis. This is not exclusive to influencers. Welcome to the patriarchy, I guess, but it's quite sad that a ‘no influencers’ sign was the first thing that made you think about discrimination.”

ANAZIA AKHALU, 29, NEW YORK

“Absolutely, influencers are being discriminated against. People literally hate-watch my videos. Like, if I disturb you so much you can always block me, but they don’t because they’re obsessed!!!! Miserable ass broke ass motherfuckers. Especially if you’re a woman, they hold you to this very high standard. You’re not even human to them. You can’t make any mistakes.”

“People seem more prone to spread hate than joy right now. Lots of people are gravitating towards negativity with the state of this economy. Seems like a lot of people are looking for a reason to hate you, and as soon as they find one, they run with it. It’s becoming so socially acceptable to hate on people who come on their platform every single day to spread love and joy, and to entertain the people that really support them. People are so quick to insult you when they don’t know you.”

YEGANEH MAFAHER, 28, LOS ANGELES

“I believe the tide is shifting towards individuals who overconsume. Who are silent towards atrocities globally. We are living in times where people are being snatched on the street by ICE. Unhoused people are getting tickets for not having a home. As we start war abroad. And families struggle to pay for groceries. At some point, turning on your phone and seeing someone brag about Door Dashing their third meal of the day, after doing a collaboration with companies you boycott, it’s less about the profession and more about the selfishness. The overconsumption.” 

“Influencers are not discriminated against, no. The ones who claim this have never spoken up for true discrimination in their lives. They don’t speak up for immigrants who will never get a second interview based on their names. They’ll never speak up about the anti-Black sentiment in the workplace. But a sign that says no influencers is their version of The Handmaid’s Tale. To be clear, it has always been socially acceptable to hate on women, and the act of hating women is not directly tied to being an influencer. If I make a video saying ‘Hey, this influencer is working with a company that financially backs a genocide’, is that an excuse to hate women? What about the women in the genocide?”

JADE TAYLOR, 24, USA

“People have been growing sick of influencers for a long time, and the biggest factor is the worsening economy for the working class. The prices of everyday necessities are skyrocketing while wages remain stagnant. People don’t have as much buying power as they once did, especially for non-essential goods, and the inspiration that many people once felt [toward influencers] has turned to disdain. When you can barely afford to keep a roof over your head, seeing an influencer in a room full of PR packages isn’t aspirational; it’s an insensitive display of wealth disparity. In this way, influencers have come to represent the wealth gap itself.”

“Influencers are not a coherent or oppressed class that can be marginalised, and there are myriad legitimate criticisms of influencing that are not misogynistic. Influencing may be a woman-dominated industry, but that does not make it inherently progressive or feminist, especially when most influencers’ idea of ‘feminism’ revolves exclusively around women who look like them and share their tax bracket. It’s not misogynistic at all to criticise a group of women profiting from the suffering of other, more marginalised women. It’s important to recognise this phenomenon of influencers crying ‘misogyny’ for what it is: elite capture, which is a process where people in positions of power co-opt social movements meant for the most vulnerable for their own gain. Most of them had never shown an interest in women’s liberation until it affected their wallets.”