If you’ve spent any time on TikTok lately, you know the pattern by heart. A creator posts a hot take, comment sections ignite, everyone loses their minds, and by day three we’re in the middle of a full-blown digital culture war. This time, the spark was a video from creator Britney K., bluntly titled “Influencers Make Too Much Money.” In it, she argues that influencers have become “modern-day capitalists,” profiting off consumerism while hiding behind relatability. “They make more than doctors,” she says, “and we act like that’s normal.”
Cue chaos.
Within hours, TikTok had split into factions. Some called her bitter. Others called her brave. And a few, like many of us scrolling late at night, weren’t sure how to feel.
Camp One: The Class Struggle, Reloaded
Creator Brianna didn’t hold back:
“No fair society has influencers,” she said. “It should make you sick to live in a world where someone’s entire job is selling lifestyle while others can’t eat.”
To her, influencer wealth isn’t an isolated issue, it’s another symptom of what she believes to be capitalism’s rot. She draws parallels between influencer culture and America’s obsession with meritocracy: the belief that wealth equals worth, no matter how it’s earned.
And when critics, often women, and often Black women, speak up? They’re labeled “jealous,” “angry,” or “bitter.” She describes it as a familiar silencing tactic, one that keeps the system humming.
For Brianna, influencers are the bourgeoisie’s “puppets,” proof that we’ve normalized excess. Her conclusion: a functioning, ethical society wouldn’t produce influencers at all.
Camp Two: It’s Complicated (Because It Always Is)
Then there’s the self-proclaimed “real yapper” Sinderella, who argues that the outrage misses the bigger picture. She’s not defending influencer paychecks, but rather questioning what their existence says about us.
“The question isn’t ‘Do influencers deserve that money?’” she says. “It’s ‘What does this say about our values as a society?’”
She points out that influence feels ordinary now. Anyone could, theoretically, go viral and make a living selling a dream. That proximity, seeing people who look like us profit off something as simple as lifestyle, makes it personal.
And yet, she reminds us, influencers don’t exist in a vacuum. They’re not paid for their moral compass; they’re paid for their reach. “They’re walking billboards,” she says, “reflecting what we collectively reward: visibility, relatability, desire.”
If that sounds bleak, it’s because it kind of is. But it’s also true. We built this economy of attention, and we sustain it every time we scroll, like, or buy.
Camp Three: The Mirror We Don’t Like Looking Into
Creator Simi Muhumuza (with that oh so rich auntie aesthetic I vehemently aspire to have) takes that point further. Her post, since deleted but still echoing across stitches, flipped the entire argument on its head:
“You’re not mad at influencers,” she said. “You’re mad because you feel controlled by your desires.”
Simi’s argument is deceptively simple: no job under capitalism is morally pure. Not doctors. Not lawyers. Not teachers. So why hold influencers to a higher standard?
What really bothers us, she suggests, isn’t the influencer’s behavior, it’s our own participation. We project our aspirations onto them, confuse their image with our values, and then feel betrayed when they don’t live up to it.
It’s not just about money or morality. It’s about how deeply consumerism has intertwined with identity.
So…What Now?
As a communications professional, I love a debate that refuses to have one clear answer. Because here, many things can be true at once.
Yes, wealth hoarding and performative capitalism are ethical minefields.
Yes, influencer culture reflects our social decay as much as our innovation.
And yes, every like, share, and affiliate link click keeps the machine running.
But this conversation isn’t just for creators. It’s for us, the marketers, PR pros, and strategists shaping how influence circulates.
When a single post can make or break a brand, what does “ethical influencer marketing” even look like? Can it exist in a system that rewards attention above all else?
Maybe the point isn’t to find a clean moral line, but to stay awake to the contradictions.
Because if influence is currency now, then ethics is the only thing that can keep us from going bankrupt.
Why This Matters for Marketers, Communications Pros, and Advertisers
If you work in marketing, PR, or advertising, this debate isn’t just cultural commentary, it’s a roadmap to the minefield you’re navigating every day. Here’s why:
- The Trust Economy Is Fragile : Influencer partnerships are built on perceived authenticity. But as audiences grow more skeptical of performative relatability, brands that rely too heavily on influencer-driven campaigns risk backlash. The question for communicators: how do you maintain credibility when your messengers are being called out as capitalist puppets?
- Your Audience Is Watching, And Judging : Consumers are increasingly aware of the mechanics behind influence. They know when content is sponsored, when messaging feels manufactured, and when brands are chasing trends instead of standing for something. For advertisers, this means surface-level campaigns won’t cut it anymore. Your audience wants to know: what do you actually value?
- Ethical Marketing Isn’t Optional Anymore: The conversation around influencer wealth and consumerism is also a conversation about corporate responsibility. If your brand partners with creators who embody excess without purpose,you will automatically be associated with the culture that’s being critiqued. It becomes guilt by association. Communications professionals need to ask: are we amplifying voices that align with our values, or just chasing reach?
- The Metrics That Matter Are Shifting: Engagement is no longer the endgame. Audiences are tired of being sold under the guise of connection. For marketers, this means rethinking KPIs. Instead of likes and clicks, consider: are we building long-term trust? Are we contributing to cultural conversations in meaningful ways? Are we selling a lifestyle, or are we solving a problem? This also raises another question regarding likes and KPI’s: Are we so obsessed with creating data points for things that are often subjective that we are missing out on true success in the name of “putting points on the scoreboard?”
We’re All Part of the Machine
Simi would tell you that no job under capitalism is morally pure, and that includes marketing. But awareness is the first step toward accountability. If we’re going to participate in the influence economy, we have a responsibility to do it thoughtfully. That means vetting partnerships, questioning campaign strategies, and being honest about what we’re asking consumers to buy into, both literally and figuratively.
So the next time you’re building a campaign around an influencer, ask yourself: what are we really selling here? Because your audience is asking the same question.
