Influencing: the democratisation of success or crisis of aspiration?

Over half of children in America now say they want to be influencers when they grow up. In 2025, brands spent more than $32 billion on influencer marketing, paying everyone – from gym-fluencers to beauty creators, from gamers to amateur runners – in order to promote products and lifestyles. At a time of declining trust in the economy and traditional career paths, influencing offers something increasingly rare: the promise of autonomy, creativity and financial success, all without leaving your bedroom.

Influencers now shape how millions of young people think about politics, relationships, fitness, beauty and the meaning of success. As trust in established authorities and role models has weakened, social-media personalities have been empowered and legitimised. Even Andy Burnham now demonstrates how politicians are using influencers to promote policies and boost their personal brand.

Some see this as a smart move from Burnham, as influencers are more trusted by young people than celebrities or journalists. They wield cultural power, which can command behavioural changes: for example, the rise of fitness influencers has done much more to get Gen Z doing exercise than any paternalistic policy could do. For some, this can be seen as a positive diffusion of influence, where expertise is no longer confined to elites and ‘authentic’ voices reach new audiences conveying everyday experiences. Others see a more troubling trend: the promotion of visibility over achievement, reducing success to likes, followers and sponsorship deals.

Even worse, the rise of the ‘sickfluencers’ and ‘lazy girls’ is undermining the concept of work – as they use their platforms to promote gaming the system. For example, they teach other young people how to use a mental-health diagnosis to get a free car from the state or to make the most of working in the Civil Service by working from Paris.

If we prioritise making money through saying a lot, while saying little of substance and doing even less, what happens to the health of our communities and professions? When our ideal lifestyles are rooted in meaningless tasks, what happens to our belief in contributing to society in meaningful ways?

Why has influencing become such a popular aspiration for younger generations? Is it due to a loss of opportunities, and stable pathways to success, or is it reflective of a deeper crisis of meaning and social structure? Does the influencer economy empower ordinary people by breaking down barriers to fame and fortune, or does it show a crisis of aspiration and belief in hard work?