Over the influencers

In 2019, I talked to clients and colleagues about the communications world reaching "peak influencer". Every campaign that year had to have an influencer element. I asked how long it could continue before the buzz and the shine wore off. Apparently it was 2-3 years. In March 2021, Protein published the?second of its Dirty Words report?series, proclaiming "influence" as one of nine "dirty words" in our world. Protein argued that influencer marketing as an industry was vapid and meaningless (well, duh) and all about commerce over community and creativity.?

Then this August, Business of Fashion?wrote about the bubbling trend?for "workfluencers", proclaiming that brands should prioritise working with influencers who have day jobs. BoF argues society has grown tired of influencers and creators who "create" for a living. The perception is that making videos all day isn't a real job, especially if you're reviewing free stuff or getting paid by brands. And even though it IS genuinely hard work to keep up with the algorithms, society has little sympathy for this pursuit. Our culture lionises work - ergo, people who document their day jobs on their social channels are more relatable, more believable, and more authentic. But is that always the case? And does the rise of the "workfluencer" spell the end of the traditional influencer??

Firstly, as an agency with a bias towards corporate-led brand work and plenty of B2B briefs, the rise of the workfluencer is excellent news. We often talk to clients about using their employees as influencers, tapping into employee advocacy to help drive campaigns across various channels. We work with clients with massive employee bases with plenty of active TikTokers. The practical challenge is finding them; if you can do that, activating them is the relatively easy part. Make sure you don't make your approach templated and robotic; give employees enough room to express themselves individually.?

But what happens if your employee influencer (I'm not sure about workfluencer as a portmanteau, TBH) becomes too successful? Asking someone to create some videos as a one-off is one thing; featuring them in five or six campaigns suddenly ramps up their workload alongside their day job. A cynical CEO might ask "day job influencers" why they're spending as much time documenting their work as actually doing it.

If you've ever made a video on your phone, you'll know it's rarely "one take, and done". You need to plan your shoot, build in time for different takes, edit, and add some post-production and some music. That all takes time. If you're doing that outside your 9-6 and it's your choice, that's fine. If your boss has asked you to do that, do you need additional reimbursement? Do you do it during work hours? You're either blurring the lines between working and influencing or completely subsuming your spare time with more work. Whatever your view of "creating" or "influencing" as a job, it is not the same as watching TV or reading a book.?

And why are still hearing these cynical and snarky views about being a creator or an influencer not being a real job? The Government?recently published?its response to a DCMS committee report on influencer culture in the UK. One of the committee's recommendations was for influencers to have more direct employer/employee relationships with the platforms they use. The "creator" job title might not be to everyone's taste, but when even the Government recognises creating/influencing as a career, it's probably time to accept it and move on.?

Maybe this cynicism stems from, as the?Substack Embedded put it recently,?"the cycle of a regular person getting internet famous, cashing in on it, and then getting backlash."?An age-old cycle, and one we can particularly relate to in the UK. We love a rags to riches story; we're less keen on the riches part on its own. Anyone perceived to have "made it" suddenly comes under the intense scrutiny of the public and media glare. One false step, and welcome to backlash central. The perception that viral fame isn't as hard-earned as any other kind of fame often intensifies this backlash. The algorithm chose you; therefore, you're fair game for a public takedown. You don't deserve all those free products and lucrative brand deals.?

However, apart from the rise of the employee influencer, there's nothing new going on here that would signal the end of influencer marketing as we know it. The excitement-resentment, boom-bust cycle wasn't invented for creators and influencers. It's been happening for decades, except previously, it was limited to celebrities. Once someone gets famous, they're ready to be taken down - whether they made it online or not.?

And equally, the concept of that initial pre-fame relatability is tricky. We want the creators and influencers we follow to be relatable - it's part of their appeal, their charm. It underpins the?parasocial relationship?we have with them. Watch enough of someone's videos, and they feel like they could be your friend. You feel like you know them, and if you hung out IRL, it would be great.?

But creators are not your friends. We follow creators and influencers because they give us something. Make us laugh, educate us in skills, test out a range of products to help inform our purchase - or entertain us when we're bored. They seem real, but they're not real. They are doing a job. There's artifice involved - there's no doubt your favourite creator is an entirely different person when hanging out with their mates.?

And yes, we might feel differently about a particular influencer if they get really famous (i.e. beyond internet famous and into the tabloids), but we'll probably keep watching them. Or move on to someone else, on to the next thing we're interested in.?

Embedded asks,?"What comes?after?influencers as we've known them for the past decade?". For me, the answer is pretty simple - more influencers. Everyone wants to be a creator. Thanks to the rise of TikTok and the tools offered by platforms like Snapchat, it's easier than ever to create high-quality videos on your smartphone. As long as there are people with something to say and platforms that "reward" you (a double-edged sword if there ever was one) with virality, new creators will fill the pipeline.?

We're experiencing the inevitable dip after having reached "peak influencer". We'll end up at a level of stability - influencer marketing will become just another channel brands use to reach audiences. In reality, we've been doing influencer marketing for decades; we just called it other things. Celebrity endorsements, blogger relations, sponsorship deals - like many things brought on by the rise of social media, the modern influencer has added vast scale to the whole enterprise, democratising access to talent previously reserved for those with the biggest budgets.?

The current dip will likely reduce the number of big brand deals on offer to influencers - the digital advertising market is brutal. And despite the ad industry's pleas to keep spending, recessions generally mean reduced advertising and marketing budgets. Creators will likely need to rely on other income sources (monetisation of videos, affiliate deals, that kind of thing). And maybe the impacts of a recession on influencers will lead more of them back into "regular" jobs - then they can all become workfluencers and tap into the latest iteration in the long line of influence.?