Why is everyone a content creator now?

Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.

Aside from doing my skincare routine and snuggling into bed with a book, my nighttime routine consists of speaking to the 80 or so followers of my Instagram dump about whatever comes to mind. Occasionally, it’s shopping hauls from earlier in the day or stories of the opposite sex; often, it’s attempts to dissect my latest sitcom of choice. (Who else is watching HBO’s Girls here?) Regardless of the topic, friends have routinely told me I should be an influencer.

When the term first rose to prominence during the pandemic, I didn’t take it seriously. Content creation only existed to stave off boredom, since all of us had nowhere to be and nothing else to do. But currently, it’s a lucrative opportunity that offers younger generations both financial security and social relevance. Sometimes, I see those who used to dance to Renegade in 2020 have landed deals with international brands and start imagining an alternate reality where I had done the same.

Business intelligence platform Morning Consult found that 57% of surveyed Zers from the United States wanted to be influencers—a trend that Gen Alpha is also following. In 2022, Kmart released a six-piece wooden vlogger toy set, perhaps as a reflection of these new ambitions. Older demographics were quick to protest and call the release “disturbing”. “Seriously, just what society need[s]: more so-called influencers trying to live a free life off their looks. Great work,” one scathing comment reads. 

While doctors, lawyers, and engineers will never go out of style, we cannot deny how alluring the influencer lifestyle looks from the outside. Anyone can produce videos on whatever comes to mind, for starters: With the fragmentation of our interests, there is no longer a subject too niche. We have communities surrounding hiking or running, assembling and buying gadgets, and tending to greenery.

Most importantly, if the demand is great, creators can be paid to do this on a regular basis. Whereas an average Filipino family earns P350,000 annually, influencers can receive that amount from a single row of Instagram photos, a TikTok cross-posted to other platforms, or a full-fledged shoot. Outside of the constraints of a typical workplace, they also assert their creative freedom and answer only to themselves. 

Stories of those juggling this side hustle with schooling, or those who traded their corporate stints for full-time content creation abound. “For a growing number of young Filipinos, [switching to this set-up] is a risk worth taking in a job market that often leaves them undervalued,” Dr. Christine Cox, chair of Ateneo de Manila University’s Department of Communication, tells PhilSTAR L!fe. “The old path is no longer seen as stable or fulfilling: [...] Today, it’s all about flexibility and control over their schedule.” Best of all, barriers to entry are lower than ever: All you need is a camera, an internet connection, and a dream to kickstart what could be a promising career. 

In the past, being a tastemaker required credentials: expertise in a particular field, cultural cachet, or generational wealth. It’s how and why gatekeeping existed: keeping resources, power, and opportunities concentrated within a circle of the select few, who had proven their superiority in some form. But now, Cox says that we can all position ourselves as an authority on anything. 

Just a few scrolls on your For You page can land you face-to-face with your high school bully peddling makeup products, or your next-door neighbors playing pranks on one another as a family. “[This practice] democratizes influence: Filipinos from all walks of life can now shape trends, conversations, and elections. It opens space for more diverse voices, especially from the margins,” Cox says. Consequently, young consumers are now exhibiting a “lack of trust in some of the more traditional media sources,” as reported by Taylor Lorenz for The Washington Post, turning instead to those like them for deeper understanding and analysis of the forces that shape our world.

However, if those who hold the same opinions as us are routinely pushed by the algorithm, we may find ourselves closed off from the rest of the world and concealed in echo chambers. You might have encountered issues that got certain online communities completely outraged, yet made little sense to those who didn’t belong in their circles—a symptom of what disinformation researcher Renée DiResta refers to as a “bespoke reality”.