The Cancel Culture Loop: Why Do We Keep Forgiving Problematic Influencers
The age of social media gave rise to a new kind of career — the influencer. Influencers, both large and small, carved out a powerful niche in modern marketing by offering relatability, something traditional advertisements often lack. These were real people demonstrating real products in real time, building platforms based on perceived likeability, credibility and trust. The premise behind influencer marketing is simple in that the creator is also the consumer. Their supposedly authentic reactions or reviews give audiences a more “honest” look into what they’re buying, making the experience feel less transactional and more personal.
But while influencers were once valued for their everyday authenticity, the rise of what I call the “celebrity influencer” — creators with mainstream name recognition and enormous online followings — has brought something else with it: the rapid growth of unhealthy parasocial relationships. These influencers have gone beyond their role as content creators and entertainment, becoming personal brands, emotional crutches and aspirational icons. To many, they feel like best friends we’ve never met. And with that comes fierce loyalty.
Where Do We Draw the Line?
Most popular influencers are at least some level of “out-of-touch” considering their level of wealth and their careers based on the idealization of their lifestyles. Just take your standard “New York City Influencer” — typically cisgender white woman who moves to New York in her 20s and shares her idyllic life of going to pilates classes and consuming $10 lattes every day. Of course, on the surface, there isn’t anything horribly wrong with this type of influencer other than simply being kind of boring in my opinion. But, if their biggest scandal is not being interesting to me, I’m not going to waste any energy wondering why people enjoy these types of creators. Creators that flaunt their wealth or their supposedly perfect lifestyle aren’t necessarily bad, but the line between out-of-touch and downright problematic is fairly thin in the influencer space.
Mikayla Nogueira: From Relatable to Out-of-Touch
One of the larger creators on TikTok that has had a recent bat with controversy is beauty influencer Mikayla Nogueira. Known for her bold makeup looks and her strong Boston accent, Mikayla used to be one of my favorite newer influencers in the makeup space in the early 2020s. In the early days of her influencer fame, I enjoyed her outgoing personality and colorful eye looks. I even purchased two of her eyeshadow palettes when she released a collaboration with Glamlite. But over time, cracks began to show. I, along with other viewers, started to notice misleading sponsorships, an increasingly exaggerated accent that was not present previously and defensiveness when called out. Her infamous “try being an influencer for a day” rant, which came across as dismissive and entitled, felt like a turning point — a moment that revealed how far removed she’d become from the audience she once resonated with.
While her controversies may seem “small” in the grand scheme, they matter. When influencers build their platforms on relatability and authenticity, even minor breaches of trust call into question their entire brand. Giving creators like Mikayla a pass from any and all criticism reinforces a message that success excuses everything, even when that success was built on a promise of transparency.
James Charles: The Cycle of Scandal and Soft Rebranding
Unfortunately the beauty community seems to garner the most controversy among influencers, because next on the chopping block is James Charles. After being the first man to be on the cover of Covergirl, James made a name for himself in the YouTube beauty space through his inventive, artistic makeup looks. Over the years he grew immense popularity with millions of subscribers on YouTube, a brand collaboration with Morphe and eventually his own makeup line.
Early on in his influencer career, James was the center of controversy after an incredibly insensitive tweet insinuating that he was going to get ebola because he was traveling to Africa. The classic notes app apology tweet that followed was the first of many public apologies James would make.
Tasteless jokes and racist tweets eventually gave way to allegations of grooming, manipulation and inappropriate behavior with underage boys. After emerging relatively unscathed from what the internet dubbed “Dramageddon 2” — the explosive fallout following beauty guru Tati Westbrook’s now-deleted exposé video “Bye Sister” — James Charles seemed to set a precedent for himself. His two-part response, “Holding Myself Accountable” and “No More Lies,” managed not only to salvage his public image but also to establish a formula of apologizing publicly, releasing “receipts” and returning to regular content once the outrage dies down pretending as if nothing happened. It’s a strategy he’s repeated with each new controversy — and one that continues to work, as long as audiences are willing to move on.
What’s especially troubling is how normalized this cycle has become. With each scandal, there’s a rush of “he’s changed,” “I believe him” or “he deserves a second chance” discourse in the comments. The idea that someone with this kind of history and seemingly no meaningful attempt at change can be met with open arms time and time again speaks to the power of parasocial attachment.
Jeffree Star: The Blueprint for Monetizing Controversy
On the extreme end of the spectrum of problematic influencers is beauty influencer Jeffree Star. Long before his fame as a beauty mogul, Jeffree was a popular creator on MySpace who gained traction online through deeply offensive content. It wasn’t uncommon for him to use racist language and display harmful behavior, including using the N-word, mocking people of color and making grotesque 'jokes' in skits he posted online without any regard for the impact. Jeffree has also been repeatedly accused of bullying and intimidating fellow creators and people in general behind the scenes. These aren’t isolated incidents. He has built his entire online persona on shock value and provocation. Because there is too many receipts to link showcasing Jeffree’s behavior in the past, and frankly much of the content is extremely upsetting, I’d recommend checking out YouTuber Nikki Carreon’s four-part deep dive into Jeffree Star’s career if you want to learn more.
While Jeffree has made public apologies for various controversies over time — most infamously a video simply titled “RACISM.” with an absolutely insane thumbnail of Jeffree serving face with the word “RACISM” overlaying the image — his apologies largely fall flat in my opinion. Jeffree behaves as if he’s immune to cancellation. Even when addressing serious allegations, his apologies often come off as dismissive, filled with deflection and weak excuses rather than genuine accountability. In the “RACISM.” video description, he even puts the word racist in quotation marks, as if to suggest he doesn’t see his past actions as truly racist.
While other influencers cycle through scandal and redemption arcs, Jeffree has largely skipped the “accountability” phase altogether. Whether he chooses to release a YouTube apology or not, his response to backlash is typically the same — deflect, stay silent or double down. And yet, his online career continues to thrive. Fans remain loyal. Critics are written off as “haters.”
Why Do People Keep Defending Problematic Influencers?
Now, of course, Mikayla Nogueira is nowhere near as problematic as James Charles or Jeffree Star, in my opinion — but I’m using these three as examples of how highly popular creators with massive platforms seem to bounce back from controversy remarkably quickly, whether it’s a string of misleading advertisements or serious allegations.
And let’s be real: the platforms these influencers are on don’t exactly encourage accountability. TikTok, YouTube, Instagram — they all reward content that gets attention. The messier it is, the more it spreads. People who defend influencers get traction. People who frame criticism as “drama” go viral. Meanwhile, actual conversations about harm and responsibility get buried by an algorithm that favors chaos, and influencers know it.
The end result? Harm gets dismissed, patterns get ignored and problematic creators keep growing their platforms. Not because they’re misunderstood — but because we, as viewers, keep letting them off the hook.
We Don’t Owe Influencers Our Loyalty
At the end of the day, influencers aren’t our friends — they’re public figures who’ve built careers off attention, visibility and the illusion of authenticity. When they mess up, especially in ways that are harmful or dangerous, it’s not “drama.” It’s behavior that deserves to be taken seriously. And when we rush to defend them out of habit, nostalgia or simply because we are a fan, we send a message that being popular is more important than being accountable.
We don’t owe influencers our forgiveness, our excuses or our continued support — especially when they show us over and over again who they really are. If someone has a pattern of harming others and brushing it off, it’s time for us to walk away from their profiles.
There are plenty of other creators online, many of whom lead with integrity and genuinely care about the communities they’ve built. We don’t have to settle for the ones who continue to disappoint just because they’re familiar or entertaining. At a certain point, it’s worth asking if someone’s platform is built on harm, what exactly are we supporting when we keep showing up? Choosing to disengage allows us as the viewers and consumers to raise the standard for the kind of creators we want to see thrive.