Being an Influencer is Boring
I am still baffled by the number of people who want to become influencers and share their "life" with 8 billion people on Instagram. You might think I am also sharing my life on this blog, writing my views and exposing my incredible soul to the world. While you might be right with my inclination towards "sharing" my opinions, I do not consider myself an influencer, and I have no plans to become one. Truthfully, I do not consider that I have anything extraordinary to tell the world. There is a scene in The Holdovers, one of my favorite movies ever, where Paul Giamatti talks about how he does not believe "he has a book" in him, "but maybe a novella." I am lowkey on the same page with that. I am 25 years old, and my working experience is 4 years of journalism and 2 years of freelancing in photography and videography. I have not left Shanghai for the last 15 months, and my love life has been a mess for the last 25 years. Take into account that I need to lose at least 20 kilograms, and my Chinese level has not seen any improvement for the last 3 years. All around, I think I am too flawed to "influence" a human being to any meaningful degree. Plus, I am bald, and bald people are not the most influencer-friendly creatures; our last attempt was Andrew Tate, and where is he now? (In jail, thankfully). Undoubtedly, there are things that I am proud of, from gathering the best friends in the world to my visual skills and knowledge of cinema and literature, but yet, I can not be bothered to put myself into a position where I have the "responsibility" to be correct all the time. When you have thousands of followers who consume every piece of content you put out and advertise, I believe you have a responsibility regarding their time and attention. I like blogging, but I simply do not know how many people read my blog, and how many of them actually care about what I post here. There are statistics for sure, but they do not carry the same weight as on Instagram, Xiaohongshu, or LinkedIn.
I have been participating in a free summer program lately, one that I enrolled in by mistake, or let's say, I did not read the description, as my friend asked me to accompany her. It turned out to be a masterclass for those who want to become more famous on social media and construct a profound IP for themselves. The lecturers are all big on Instagram and Xiaohongshu. Some have around 400k followers, which is 10 times the number of students at our university. Just imagine: a community with the same size as 10 universities combined is giving a couple of minutes of their lives to you every day; the amount of care that you should give to your craft should be insane. I was truly flabbergasted by how these people function at work. I can not imagine dealing with that many internet users casually, as I had multiple breakdowns when I had my 3k-followers "professional" (LOL) account back in Iran. One issue I have with "influencers" is the lack of character that they show as a by-product of their huge fanbase. During the program, there is an assertive focus on creating "engaging" content to gain more followers and likes. Honestly, that was the point I realized this class really is not my cup of tea. When I am writing on this blog or posting pictures on my Moments account, "engagement" is the last thing I care about. Indeed, I share the links with my friends, and I get so happy when they react to my loose thoughts here, but that does not mean that I write or take pictures to "gain engagement," as that will push you to shape your content based on what "others" like rather than what "you" want. I love the control I have over my life in every aspect. It is so delicate that there is no bottom here, and I do not know how many users follow me. Even when they engage with me, I can sense a more meaningful interaction, via email and writing long texts to each other, exchanging ideas with extra context and pretext, rather than short replies and confusing limitations. During one of the breaks, I showed the short documentary I made with three of my university classmates to my groupmate in the program. She was so thrilled with our work, and I told her I want to create things that last longer so I can still be proud of them 10 years later. That is my other issue with becoming an Instagram influencer and posting reels on my social media. I do not see those reels as high-end products that 10 years later, I would look back on with some sort of pride. It is the media equivalent of fast food. Easy to cook, consume, and digest, but with the lowest impact on health. I have to clarify that I do not assume those short-form creators are inferior to me, or underestimate their talents, as occasionally I come across the most aesthetically pleasing videos on Instagram; my whole point is that my personal preference is something else and these are my justifications. As I noticed during this program, many people are quite proud of their reels and believe they are contributing to a greater cause.
While I have been nagging about that program and whining to my friends about it, I still see it as a practice of patience for myself and an opportunity to meet people from the exact opposite side of me in the field of media. I met some interesting individuals as well, and not everything about that program has been a complete disaster. A friend of mine said the most important outcome of this experience for you, maybe, was not understanding what you want to do, but figuring out what you do not want to do, and nothing can wrap everything up better than this.