Gone are the days of connecting; now, it's all about converting—followers into buyers, fans into zealots.
Ah, the good old days of social media—where profiles were humble online diaries, friends were people you actually liked, and your feed served mainly as a place to share baby photos, nerdy memes, and last night’s slightly overcooked dinner.
How quaint! Back then, around the mid-2000s, “following” someone simply meant being interested in their day-to-day life; it certainly didn’t involve funneling yourself into a 24/7 product pitch or a 140-character ideological tirade.
There were no “influencers” per se—just users, a motley crew of casual oversharers and amateur photographers. Those were the halcyon days when a “friend request” meant some random classmate found you online, not a carefully calculated ladder rung in a climb toward a personal brand empire.
Fast-Forward to the Age of Influence:
Now we live in a digital ecosystem where each scroll offers you another miracle weight-loss tea, a mind-altering course on “executive mindset,” or a suspiciously well-placed political rant. Social media, initially a tool for mere social connection, has transformed into a labyrinth of propaganda pipelines, each lined with sponsored content, affiliate links, and politically-engineered memes.
According to some studies, as many as 60% of top-tier social media influencers have engaged in paid promotions of products they barely know, and at least 40% of them have been involved in pushing ideological agendas—willingly or unknowingly—for the right price. Gone are the days of connecting; now, it's all about converting—followers into buyers, fans into zealots.
So... when Did It All Go Sideways?
We can demarcate a series of seismic shifts that led us here, a neat highlight reel of humanity’s slow descent into digital demagoguery:
The Monetization Moment (circa 2008–2010):
Social platforms discovered ads could pay the bills, and suddenly, every click, every swipe, every minute was engineered to produce engagement. If you can’t keep ‘em hooked, you can’t keep the lights on. The profit motive demanded changes: friend lists grew into “follower counts,” and personal updates became carefully curated “content.”
The Rise of The Algorithm (2012–2014):
Once a neutral display of chronological posts, your feed became a kaleidoscope of algorithmic machinations. Engagement metrics—likes, shares, comments—turned into currency. More emotional, more controversial, more sensational posts rose to the top. Ambassadors of truth and authenticity were quietly nudged aside by those who learned how to game the system. It was in this era that brands realized social media “influencers” could sway public taste more cheaply and effectively than prime-time commercials. Thus, the influencer—part entrepreneur, part mouthpiece—was born.
Sponsored Content Conquest (2015–2019):
The line between personal opinion and paid promotion blurred beyond recognition. The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) in the U.S. tried to impose guidelines, insisting on transparency. But clever disclaimers buried in hashtags never stood a chance against the triple whammy of pretty pictures, compelling captions, and aspirational lifestyles. At this point, 75% of influencers admitted at least one brand deal per month. Some negotiated multi-year contracts with product manufacturers, political campaigns, or think tanks. Suddenly, everyone was pushing something.
Polarization and Ideological Firestorms (2020–Present):
As politics seeped into every digital corner, influencers found an even more lucrative gig: selling ideas. Be it wellness gurus subtly hinting at particular societal structures or commentators slinging partisan propaganda, ideology became just another product line, pre-packaged and ready to ship. To maintain engagement, platforms rewarded the most incendiary statements. Propaganda, once the trade of states and skilled rhetoricians, is now the lingua franca of countless content creators with monetized channels.
Musical artists Beyonce, right, and Kelly Rowland, left, on stage at a campaign event for Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris in Houston, Friday, Oct. 25, 2024. - Susan Walsh/AP
An influencer uses a phone at the United Center, ahead of the Democratic National Convention (DNC), in Chicago, on Aug. 19, 2024 - Cheney Orr/Reuters
Now that we’re here, how does one actually become a propagandist?
Let’s walk through the steps—tongue firmly in cheek, of course.
Abandon Authenticity:
Remember the old days when you posted something because you genuinely cared? Forget it. Today, you post to provoke, to sell, to persuade. Authentic emotion is not cost-effective. If a brand demands a certain angle, a certain narrative, you serve it up just right. Sincerity is so 2006.
Pick a Niche and Polarize It:
Are you into fitness? Wonderful. Don’t just talk about healthy eating—declare that your specific 21-day cleanse is the only acceptable route to a better life. Into politics? Awesome. Don’t just have beliefs—portray your viewpoint as gospel, and the opposition’s ideas as borderline sociopathic. Extremes get engagement. Engagement pays the bills.
Leverage Platform Incentives:
Social media companies are desperate to keep users glued to their screens. Capitalize on this. Generate just enough controversy to keep comment threads blazing. But be careful—stay within terms of service. Getting banned is bad for business. Know where the line is and dance precariously near it.
Build a Pseudo-Community:
Stop calling them “friends.” They’re followers and fans—an audience, a market segment, not people you care about. Indoctrinate them into your world. Give them a hashtag to rally around. Offer a secret Facebook group or a Discord channel where they can feel special. Brand them, label them, make them identify with you—and then remind them you have something to sell.
Monetize, Monetize, Monetize:
That’s the goal, right? Constantly remind your audience to buy something: a course, a product line, a political message—whatever keeps the gravy train rolling. If anyone accuses you of being a sellout, laugh it off. Integrity doesn’t pay the rent.
Is There a Way Back?
Now, the real question: Can we return to the era when social media was about meaningful connections rather than strategic manipulation? Solutions are tricky, but not impossible:
Platform Accountability:
Encourage platforms to reward authenticity, nuanced discussion, and verified information. It might lower short-term profits, but could restore some semblance of real community.
User Education:
Teach users how to spot propaganda and product placement. Literacy in digital media should go beyond recognizing sponsored hashtags; it should involve understanding how we’re constantly being nudged, prodded, and provoked for profit.
Transparent Partnerships:
Mandatory, clear disclosures of sponsorships. None of those clandestine #sp tags buried under six paragraphs. If you’re pushing a product or an idea for money, say it—loudly.
Value Real-Life Friendships:
Stop worshipping follower counts. Platforms should experiment with features that encourage real connections, quality over quantity. More focus on small community groups, less on public pedestal-making.
From “Friends” to “Followers”:
We’ve gone from a digital village square—where neighbors swapped stories—to a neon bazaar where everyone shouts at the top of their lungs, selling wares and whipping up controversy. It’s a subtle alchemy: platforms profit from engagement, you profit from influence, and your audience pays the price.
Where once we had friendly nods and heartfelt exchanges, now we have “audience segments” and “key demographic metrics.” The cozy corners of the internet have been replaced by algorithmic echo chambers and monetized soapboxes.
And so, if you’re committed to becoming a modern propagandist—congratulations! You’ve got the blueprint. Just remember that in doing so, you join the ranks of those who turned a medium once meant for connection and community into an endless carnival of manipulations. But hey, at least the rent gets paid.
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