The Evolution of ‘Influencers’ and Activism on Instagram
As far as social media platforms go, Instagram has always served the purpose of being a source of community, inspiration, and positivity for me. I always considered Twitter to be noisy and endless, whereas Facebook is just a place to keep your distant relatives up to date with your latest holiday destination (ixnay on the year 2020).
Instagram on the other hand has always been a specially curated blend of my favourite things: illustrated art (mostly cats), activism and people with great style sense promoting independent stores I cannot afford. Each has served their purpose in creating a break from my relatively ordinary life, but the recent and growing blend of my three favourite contents has caused personal scepticism.
It may seem slightly odd to admit but I owe a significant amount of my own personal growth to the positive role models or ‘Influencers’ I follow on Instagram, particularly with regards to the Body Positivity Movement. Following women (especially “plus-size” ones) who own their size and sexuality and denounce society’s classical expectations of beauty (i.e. thin, able, perky and preferably porcelain white) feels inspiring and like a form of activism in itself.
But of course, this is the power of Instagram and its ability to influence us (or me, at least). I learned through positive reinforcement, that I should not be ashamed of my body, by following and consuming Body Positive content. Notably, BodyPosiPanda and the SlumFlower’s #saggyboobsmatter (amongst many more) were staples in this journey and they are often credited for their work in the Body Positive movement in the UK, since their entrance to the social media stage a mere four or so years ago.
With regards to activism and social justice issues, Instagram increasingly continues to be a hugely useful platform to stay informed and involved, as it is far more dynamic and creative than other social media platforms. ‘Instagram Activism’ takes many forms, but broadly speaking it falls into two types of content; the first being an individual promoting their story, their personality and their respective cause; the second being a production of text slides sometimes accompanied by illustrative graphics (for example @soyouwanttalkabout).
Whilst Instagram Activism has often been accused of simplifying complex issues which take years of studying, or of even commodifying activism, text slides continue to be great starting points for those who wish to stay informed. They are readily consumable, shareable and focus on issues ranging from the local to the global. However, the content is not only accessible because of its ‘lite-ness’, but also because the issues in question are typically covered by people who either belong to or are affected by ‘X’ issue. This element of personhood behind the message is what also makes it more compelling than reading a sixty-year-old text or an academic paper.
Of course, herein lies the core criticism against ‘pop-feminism’ - i.e. the radical-millennial-plastic-pink-politics we’ve been lapping up in the last few years. Recently, this criticism seems to land harder on individual ‘Influencer’ type accounts who speak on social causes. It would seem that anyone with a symmetrical enough face, with a keen eye for aestheticism and a commitment to self-promotion can become an Instagram Activist.
In essence, the discussion stems from the debate between Instagram’s pop-feminism being accessible at the expense of watering down important theories, or potentially more egregiously, the rehashing of feminist work from older, less ‘sexy’ radical feminists and condensing their seminal works into a slogan which can be comfortably printed onto a Skinny Dip phone case. The two are often pitted at odds against each other.
So, does Instagram do exactly this? Is it watering down important complex theories into pink, reactionary, virtue-signalling iconographics? My answer to this accusation is simple. Yes.
However, is this always necessarily a bad thing? Maybe not in every case.
Whilst reductive, the way we are consuming and repackaging these classical concepts is clearly impacting society rapidly, and sometimes for the better. Take the case of Body Positivity. In the UK, we see much more diversity in size, shape and ethnicity on our social media feeds, shops and campaigns than we have ever had before - which can only be, on some level, a sign of progress for inclusion. And on a deeper level, hopefully we should all know that the Body Positivity movement was not created to promote Lounge lingerie on Instagram.
Whilst the conflict between the ostensible shallowness of aesthetic activism and genuine progress may seem irreparable, as an individual I’d like to think we should be able to find that sweet spot between them both and become conscious consumers of the content we follow.
However, as consumers, we should still remain critical of the risks of commodification and be aware of what and from whom we consume. I say ‘consumer’ and not a ‘follower’ because let’s be real: your ‘like’, your save, your ‘follow’, is another pound into an Influencer's bank and another heart shaped notification away from landing said ‘Influencer’ or ‘Instagram Activist’ in an interview with Cosmopolitan. The instances where this makes me the most uncomfortable is when I see Influencers say something along the lines of:
“Hey! We should really improve our social awareness on X issue (link in bio) and oh by the way, this quirky jumper I’m wearing is from a designer brand based in East London that you definitely can’t afford! Tagged below.”
It feels like complete sensory overload when individuals with large platforms blur the lines between promoting lifestyle aesthetics and political/social messaging. Influencers often (perhaps unwittingly) act as representatives for a whole community or cause, whilst being paid to promote more consumables, like a quirky designer dress or new shade of lipstick.
However, should an individual who literally capitalises on themselves not be able to control how they present and progress themselves? Sure - go ahead, but the consequences of this blur has never been made more clear than through the recent blow out between Florence Given and Chidera Eggerue. Ethically, this scandal has raised important discussions on accountability, white washing and our ability as consumers (especially those of the Caucasian persuasion) to critically consider the products and messages we buy into. The issue is covered in more depth than I can give it justice to by our Creative Director here.
However, it was also through this fall-out that I came to realise that the women I had been following and admiring all these years (The SlumFlower, BodyPosiPanda, Gina Martin), all came under the same talent management group, Diving Bell, including Florence Given too. Forgive my apparent complete marketing naivety, but the reality of the extent to which ‘activism’ is indeed being commodified did not set in until I saw each Influencers ‘SOCIAL STATS INSTAGRAM’.
Like a set of real-life Top Trumps, each ‘Influencer/Instagram Activist’ has their own specs, for example:
Gina Martin, “Followers 79k+ / Engagement 5.37% / Ave Likes 4.1k / Ave Comments 100+” versus, Florence Given “an award-winning influencer…(with) an exceptionally high engagement rate of 14.62% (Jan 2020)”. Followers 578k+ / Engagement 9.38% / Ave Likes 54k / Ave Comments 2.2k”
Whilst Talent Agencies for social media stars are not new, especially since YouTuber’s Vlogger boom (think Zoella), Diving Bell clearly took advantage of an emerging market of opportunity born out of the UK’s specific Instagram Activist landscape and the rest is history.
This is not to diminish the efforts and accomplishments of the women mentioned above or “come after” their character and livelihoods. Merely, it made me realise we need to take a step back from the flashing lights of Influencer Activism and realise that this is a business we contribute to, and one that operates in the name of caring about social justice issues.
Ethical questions and issues arise from this realisation. As consumers we have the power to exert pressure, especially when our expectations of people are not met. This was a well reported experience during last summer’s historic protests following George Floyd’s murder, which led to a rise in collective action and awareness, but also legitimate concerns surrounding performativity, virtue signalling, ‘box ticking’ and even passivity from Influencers with large public profiles.
Ultimately, followers create Influencers.
Followers glorify beautiful individuals to the point of turning them into spokespeople for whole communities, whether they want to be seen as that or not. Meanwhile, the people closest to that cause are then left behind, whether that’s on body positivism, feminism or anti-racism campaigns. Followers are then let down by ‘Influencers’ (many of whom have no real experience of proactive activism), when they don’t respond to a social issue in a way that meets the expectations of hundreds of thousands of individuals.
This was most recently a sticking point for the recent Florence Given drama, but was also a source of tension for Influencers who wouldn’t typically comment on social issues whenever something tragic and newsworthy happens. There is a perhaps an innate contradiction between the hyper individualism and self-promotion of the ‘Influencer’ profession against that of the collective nature of activist causes.
Furthermore, as followers (consumers), I don’t know that the quality of our own social awareness or even activism can be necessarily judged by the amount of Influencer suggested books we may have on our shelves. Do we really mean we don’t care if we don’t have these books (and take a picture of them) or if we didn’t also share ‘that’ illustration of another tragic death or of a burning koala bear?
The point is, as a user and consumer, Instagram is a noticeably different “scene” to that of four years or even one year ago. It is an increasingly noisy and messy space right now at a time when many are actively seeking to be more socially conscious. As opposed to feeling like it's a platform for communities that we could once opt into (or out of), discourses are increasingly reactionary and inescapable, consequentially diminishing the opportunities for quality learning.
Real life moments are captured and condensed into illustrations and slogans which reduce the complexity and gravity of that situation. Perhaps now you know about that moment and you can tell others about it too, but do you know how it got to that point? Are people trying to update you or are they trying to say the most liberal thing in the most aesthetically pleasing way for a few thousand shares? Whilst we are able to stay up to date quicker than ever before this does not give us much space to understand why it’s happening, to develop an opinion on it, and most crucially, to know what we can tangibly do about it. It can be empowering to find your voice or to find out about an issue you care about and want to learn more on but it’s not the same thing as acting on it. Simply put activism ≠ posting.
If you are one who wants to become more socially aware, then as individuals we need to learn how to navigate these online spaces and be more aware about the content we consume. Diversifying your feed doesn’t necessarily mean you should start following everyone and everything. In being more selective about what content we consume; we can probably have a more meaningful connection with the message and the real life person behind it.
Instagram can still be a place for inspiration and learning. Whilst slide-deck style Instagram accounts, may be accused of being lazy news, they do serve their purpose as a springboard for you to stay informed - in a way that is sometimes even quicker than traditional media can keep up with.
The presence of the ‘Influencer Activists’ on Instagram, whilst not immediately definable, is hard to deny in presence. However we must as consumers ask ourselves the same questions we would when we make any of our everyday choices, whether that be about the movies we watch or shops we buy from. Are we buying into this brand? What does this content (product) serve? Does this do more harm than good to myself and the causes I care about?
Meanwhile, individuals such as Gina Martin have sought to define her work from her online personality more clearly with the introduction of her newsletter. Similarly, the well known Body Positive account @antidietriotclub have recently moved beyond Instagram to create The Anti Diet Riot Community, which will be a space for workshops, discussions concerning representation and health etc. Whilst paywalls are obviously a hindrance, newsletters and forums such as these may present themselves as great opportunities for quality conversations and for more thorough self-accountability on the part of the ‘Influencer’, whilst also being spaces for more authentic and ‘actionable’ (as Gina puts it) work, as opposed to prioritising the mainly aesthetic value of Instagram.
Recently, many Influencers with large public platforms (and also their followers), have started to realise how insular, limited and immaterial many of their discussions are, especially those concerning social justice issues. Conversations that once held a lot of meaning, power and scope can never be truly honoured through a post or share alone and so we cannot rely on Influencers on Instagram alone for this. It is a message that we have all heard before at some point, but Social Media is not real life. Instagram has its value, but it cannot be your main source of learning and in the end if you care enough about something, doing is the best way of learning.
Written by Clara Martinelli
Hi, I’m Clara. I’m an International Relations and Politics graduate currently doing volunteer work in London and looking to make my corner of the world a better place one step at a time. When I’m taking a break from being existential you can find me on the sofa watching police dramas and eating stupid amounts of pasta.