Influencers and the mirror in the comments section

2026-02-19 - 23:23

IT started as a ripple in the digital ocean. A teenager in their bedroom, lip-syncing into a webcam. A fitness enthusiast posting workout tips from their garage. It felt authentic, raw and refreshingly democratic. This was the great promise of influencer marketing: “the death of the untouchable celebrity and the birth of a relatable friend”. Globally, the rise was meteoric. As traditional advertising lost its grip, brands turned to these new digital natives. Brands began to question the necessity of paying for a thirty-second slot when you could pay a YouTuber to seamlessly integrate their product into a vlog watched by millions who already trust them like a sibling? Platforms evolved to monetize this shift. Instagram replaced the glossy magazine spread with the sponsored grid post. TikTok transformed choreographed dances into a global language of commerce. This is how the marketing dynamics changed forever. The power shifted from the gatekeepers in boardrooms to the creators in spare bedrooms. In Pakistan, the wave hit with equal force though it adapted to local currents. In a culture traditionally reverent towards Lollywood legends and cricket heroes, a new class of celebrities emerged. They were not necessarily great actors or world-class athletes. They were simply entertaining, a comedic skit or a relatable rant about joint family systems, and yes, sometimes a few catchy dance steps. Suddenly, the average person with a smartphone and a dash of charisma could amass a following that was once loyal only to legacy stars. They became the new tastemakers, the trusted voices telling us what to wear, what and where to eat, drink and think. And that is where the story gets interesting and complicated. We have reached a juncture where digital fame has matured into real-world authority. These influencers are no longer just selling shampoo or fashion, Infact, they are selling ideas. They are invited to speak at Ted talks, they are gracing stages to lecture on female empowerment, mental health and the nuances of modern feminism. They sit on panels to discuss the pressures of social media, they advocate for authenticity while curating a heavily filtered existence. Recently, the Pakistani digital sphere buzzed with news involving an influencer Nyla Raja and a cricketer Imad Wasim. Allegations emerged and the word “homewrecker” started to trend. Morality debates erupted across social media. The public that once cheered for these stars, was now sharpening their knives. It forces a difficult question: How do we reconcile the public persona of an intellectual with their private life? How does an individual invited to speak on empowerment become embroiled in personal controversy? More importantly, is it even our responsibility to reconcile these aspects? Perhaps the tension lies not in hypocrisy, but in the expectations. We have built a culture that assumes congruence that the person on stage must match the person behind closed doors. But humans are not brands! We are not mission statements. We are contradictions, wrapped in flesh. The woman speaking on empowerment may also make choices that hurt others. The man advocating for mental health may struggle with his own demons. This does not invalidate their message, it simply confirms their humanity. Psychologists call it cognitive dissonance. The rest of us call it life. We all want things that may not be ours to want. We all justify. We all fall short. The difference is that most of us fall short in private, while influencers fall short with comment sections waiting for them. And here is the uncomfortable truth, the very tools of empowerment, for instance the rhetoric of choice, agency and self-love, it can also be twisted into justifications for causing pain. But they can also be genuine. The line between liberation and selfishness is often visible only in hindsight, and rarely from the outside. My article is not a defence of anyone’s actions. It is an acknowledgment that we simply do not know. We do not know what happens behind closed doors. We do not know the full story, the history, the pain and the context. What we get to see are fragments, just some screenshots, allegations, gossip and on the basis of that, we construct the entire narrative. We demand that influencers be role models while simultaneously tearing them down for being human. Perhaps the real question is not about any specific influencer. Perhaps the question is about us! Why do we invest so much in the moral purity of strangers? Why do we expect public figures to live by standards that we fail to meet ourselves? Why do we reduce complex human situations to hashtags and hot takes? The influencer paradox is ultimately a mirror. We see in them the stardom we crave. We see in their scandals the judgment we project. But if we look closely, we see the universal human struggle, there is an endless war between who we present to the world Vs. who we are when no one is watching! Maybe the answer is not to tear them down or build them up. Maybe it is to hold them accountable, but also ourselves—with lighter hands. To listen to their words without demanding sainthood. To watch their content without expecting moral perfection. To remember that the person on the screen, dancing or sermonizing, is as messy and complicated as the person holding the phone. We wanted relatable. In return, we got real. But the truth is, real is never as clean as a filtered grid! —The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.