I’m So Freaking Sick Of Fake Influencers — Can We Stop This?

Here’s an example of two LinkedIn posts from two separate accounts. Each one got thousands of likes.

Maybe the second person’s story is mostly true, heck, maybe it’s ALL the way true — what’s weird, though, is that these posts are basically carbon copies of one another.

Sure the details have changed, but the sentence structure and overall formula are shockingly similar.

Why?

Because many influencers on LinkedIn either pass around post templates or straight up copy the templates of other people.

Why?

To get more views.

I get it — views run the world when you’re a content creator, but it doesn’t mean you need to steal people’s ideas to get them.

The above example is hilariously obvious, but it’s indicative of a problem that runs deeper than one-off copy/paste jobs.

It’s the problem of what I call the “fakefluencer.”

The FakeFluencers Publish A Lot, But None Of It Seems Real

“Just remember all good lies have an element of truth to them.”

― John J. Davis, Blood Line

The best fakefluencers aren’t stupid. They sprinkle just enough truth in their articles and posts to throw off suspicious readers.

But at the end of the day you can’t shake the sinking feeling that you actually have no idea who these people are.

They say a lot, but at the same time they’re not REALLY saying anything.

They embellish stories. They’re inspirational. There’s always a positive message waiting for you at the end.

But it doesn’t feel real. Why?

Because these people literally never just tell you “You know what? I feel like shit right now and I don’t have much to say.”

We’re all human. We’re not superheroes. We all have bad days.

But these influencers never have bad days.

I understand that if you occasionally write online, you don’t need to tell people EVERYTHING that happens to you.

But if you publish content online like, 10 times per day, then yeah, it would be nice for you to get a little raw sometimes.

These fakefluencers are not REALLY harming anybody — in fact, they’re probably giving a ton of inspiration to people.

Why do I care?

Here’s why.

Eventually You Will Burn Out As A Creator

It’s a lot of pressure to always be perfect as a creator.

A year ago I started making videos talking about tough topics in the Philippines. I started calling out vloggers who only made videos about that country to get views. I started calling out government inconsistencies. I tried to make a difference.

One half of my audience loved the new content and the other half wished I just got back to making feel good videos about the beauty of their country.

The problem was, my feel good videos were largely worthless. Why? Because there were countless videos online just like them — of foreign vloggers just telling a Filipino audience about all the things that “shocked” them about the Philippines.

There’s a big shopping mall?

Video Title: FOREIGNERS *SHOCKED* BY FILIPINO SHOPPING MALL

The government creates an artificial beach in Manila?

Video Title: FOREIGNERS CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! MIAMI BEACH IN MANILA?

I once thought it would be hilarious to make a video with a title like “I FARTED IN THE PHILIPPINES? I COULDN’T BELIEVE THIS!!”

On and on. I contributed to the noise for a while, unfortunately. But were my videos REALLY doing anything substantial? Not really. It was only when I started being original and offered constructive criticism that I feel I was doing the “right” thing as a creator.

And these days we have a whole bunch of writers, influencers, and vloggers who are just a bunch of hacks, making content simply to milk every last view they can from an apparently buzzing audience.

None of these influencers feel real, because they never have a bad day.

Oddly enough they talk about all their failures because “being vulnerable” is cool, but their failures are never in the present tense.

It’s always a story about a failure that happened in the past. Now, though? Now everything is awesome! We’re not failing anymore! We’ll never fail again, actually.

Two things will inevitably happen, in my opinion, as the internet keeps evolving.

1. Audiences will start to see through the bullshit.

2. The creators who are faking it will get bored (or battle weary), and quit.

That’s the dead-end I got to. I got bored of making the same kinds of videos over and over again. My heart ached to be authentic.

I was making more money than ever, but I realized one crucial thing..

No amount of money was worth doing something I hated.

Human beings need to be original. We can’t keep betraying what our heart wants to do every day.

Copying other people to make a lot of money is cool at first, and it might even bring you satisfaction, but after a few years of that you’ll find yourself lying awake at night realizing putting on a happy face for people over and over again every day sucks.

It’s in fact a prison you’re placing yourself in — to be too fake.

You’re one of a million others doing the exact same thing. If you’re a real creator, this will bug the crap out of you. You’ll want to be different. You’ll want to contribute something NEW to the conversation, not just a bunch of stupid ass LinkedIn posts about all the places you got rejected from, and how it’s fine because you made your own business and now earn 7-figures per day.

Cool, bro. Want to tell us about your hemorrhoids or something, though? At least that would humanize you a little bit. Audiences keep falling for this stuff all the time and it irks me.

As creators we’re saying more things than ever, but very little of it is true.

We’re not telling the whole story.

It’s Fine To Not Be Fine As A Creator

I’ve been going through something over the last few months. A real identity crisis. I’m writing really introspective blog posts and being candid about my struggles.

And I’ve never felt better as a creator. I enjoy telling the truth.

My audience likes it, too. I get emails and tweets every now and then from people telling me they enjoy how raw I get. They consider me a “real” one.

I’m not really in this game to make a lot of friends. I’ve been writing online for six years now, and I can smell bullshit from a mile away because I’ve seen everything under the sun.

I think we need a new kind of creator.

One who’s not afraid to be raw and honest. One who will highlight their failures without an inspirational punchline. One who will talk about their hemorrhoids.

People who will just shoot it straight with you.

Be a real influencer, not a fake one.

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