WEALTH October 25, 2026 0 Comments

Why TikTok’s Influencer Boom Is Suddenly Backfiring—And What It Means for Your Brand’s Next Move

After riding high on years of almost guaranteed success, it seems the TikTok generation is now wading through what experts call “influencer fatigue.” Ever wondered what happens when the crowd starts tuning out the once-insatiable call of influencer marketing? Well, if the recent tumble in Jaclyn Hill’s engagement figures is any indication, the game is changing — fast . The influencer who once commanded millions now finds herself talking into what feels like a void, sparking both bewilderment and honest reflection across the digital landscape. But here’s the kicker: industry insiders aren’t sounding the death knell just yet. Instead, they’re pointing to a fresh, evolving opportunity — one that rewards authenticity, earned trust, and a savvy approach to connection. So, while the sun may be setting on the old influencer empire, a new dawn of genuine, micro-community driven influence is edging in. Intriguing, isn’t it? How do you turn what feels like digital exhaustion into a winning strategy? That’s exactly what we’re about to unpack. LEARN MORE

Following years of almost guaranteed success, influencer fatigue has set in for the TikTok generation. According to industry experts, however, this shift presents a new suite of opportunities — if done right. Kate Demolder writes

“I’m gonna talk about something that I think is maybe a little controversial,” the prominent beauty influencer Jaclyn Hill, who first gained popularity on YouTube in the 2010s, told her audience via a TikTok video last December.

Hill, whose follower count sits around the 8,200,000 mark on Instagram, expressed shock that her views had dropped to as low as 30,000 in recent weeks.

“I feel like I am trying to run through mud to connect with my followers at this point.”

Hill, a former MAC store employee who garnered millions of views through makeup tutorials, products and celebrity collaborations, continued by asking her followers why they weren’t engaging with her content as much anymore.

“I put videos out there and sometimes it’s like I’m talking to myself. Like, where is my audience?… So it’s like, okay, my audience wasn’t feeling the vibes of this video. That’s fine. But I’m talking like when you have a million followers but your videos are only getting 30,000 views, this is just not the way it used to be.”

Fans past and present of Hill’s work chimed in with suggestions.

“Saying ‘I’m burnt out’ from posting Sephora hauls and GRWMs [Get Ready With Me videos] to employed people is insane,” one commenter wrote.

“My husband and I are trying to figure out how to buy formula next week, I’m sick of influencer wealth being thrown in my face daily,” another commented.

“Girl,” another penned. “You’re missing the point in the comments.”

Hill’s video, albeit unknowingly, acted as something of a temperature check for a 2026 social media audience, one which all but confirmed that influencer brands are losing their sheen.

So much so that the general malaise around being incessantly sold to has garnered a new name: influencer fatigue.

The term has grown legs in recent months as content creation became the most easily accessible job for, well, everyone. According to Yahoo Finance, more than 200 million people worldwide identify as content creators, with some 27m Americans paid in 2023 to make online content in one form or another. Naturally, this pervasiveness comes with some serious returns.

According to Forbes, the global creator economy’s value hovers around $250 billion, with Goldman Sachs forecasting it to reach $480bn by 2027.

All that said, enthusiasm to be influenced has recently attracted some ire. “Influencer Culture is Finally Dying,” a recent Vice article declared before finishing the headline with: “We Won’t Miss It.”

An article on Vogue Business seemed to agree, stating that the average consumer has grown far more discerning in the wake of influencer ubiquity. This is despite, in some ways, the industry proving more legitimate than ever.

“Nobody likes to be marketed to,” Gregg Murphy, Program Director of PR & Media at South East Technological University, says.

“And yet if we’re about to buy something, we all want to see a review of it being used. Ask anyone under the age of 22 what they use as a search engine and they’ll say TikTok, rather than something like Google. Because they know they can search whatever [they want], and have a video of someone answering that question.”

In Ireland, 58 per cent of consumers say they check influencer content when making shopping decisions. So the commercial influence is still “very significant” according to Amy Buckeridge, founder and MD of PR company Publicity Loft and its sister agency Digital Loft.

“But consumers are much more educated about influencer marketing now. They understand paid partnerships, gifted product and affiliate relationships, and they can spot very quickly when a collaboration feels forced or inauthentic.”

As the landscape becomes more and more crowded, new platforms have come to shape consumer habits and ultimately impact influencer relations. Where once a curated Instagram feed upped the ante, audiences now prefer those messier and more authentic. The same can be said of the former pull of huge audiences.

“What has changed is that trust is harder earned,” Buckeridge continues. “Consumers are looking for credibility, relevance and genuine connection, which is why smaller creators with highly engaged communities can often be just as influential, if not more so, than much larger names. In fact, only 17 per cent of consumers now say they check follower count before deciding whether to engage with a creator.”

By this metric, microinfluencers, accounts with between 1,000 and 10,000 followers, seem to boast a greater selling power than ever, Murphy agrees.

“They’re seen as more approachable, more down to earth. By comparison, huge accounts feel corporate in nature. Which, to be honest, they kind of are.”

Without question, TikTok — with an algorithm driven on relatability rather than curation – changed the way this economy moves. The fact that Instagram launched reels in response to the pull of its short-form videos shows its impact on behaviour.

“Recent data shows that 72 per cent of consumers say authenticity is important in creator content, yet only 17 per cent currently feel sponsored creator content is authentic,” Buckeridge says. “So while TikTok didn’t invent authenticity, it absolutely helped make it the currency of modern influencer marketing.”

“When I’m VERY authentic, even just saying a product is sh*te, the engagement shoots through the roof,” says content creator Laura Young aka lauras_views. “I think we all love a bit of drama, don’t we?”

This drive for authenticity will likely only swell with the introduction of AI. “My students detest AI content,” Murphy says.

“It immediately breaks trust. I think most influencers are tuned in enough into overall social sentiment to know not to use it if they want longevity. That said, corporate companies without this awareness could move into a place where they no longer need to hire real people to promote their business. They can just generate one for free.”

As wealth inequality gets worse and cancel culture still reigns, could the stars we create from TikTok overnight fall victim to their own success? In a world where authenticity reigns, the reality is probably not. “Certain accounts are almost impenetrable to controversy,” Murphy says.

“It’s almost like once a certain follower count is reached, even bad publicity makes them more intriguing. Because of that, I actually think that in five years’ time, we’re going to have even more influencers than ever before. Except, I imagine, most will call themselves ‘content creators’ because there tends to be less of a stink off that term.”

When done correctly, brand collaborations with influencers can still see big results. Of course this is the case — the basic concept of influencer marketing is something that’s been capitalised upon for millennia, and likely will never fully go away.

But as the field becomes saturated, it can’t help but shift. That’s okay, insiders say. Anybody can garner influence, but not everybody should, according to Jules Fallon, founder and managing director of talent and model agency First Management.

“The landscape has become overwhelmed by posting, but not everyone should call themselves an influencer,” she says. “Being an influencer means you have the ability to build trust with an audience, and you wield a certain expertise to do so. That’s something you earn, not something you claim.”

As the algorithm shifts and trusted influencers like Hill continue to fall victim to it, Fallon insists the only way to maintain success is via bypassing it entirely.

Amy Buckeridge, founder and MD of PR company Publicity Loft and its sister agency Digital Loft.

“The best advice I can give an influencer wanting a career in five years is that they need to build something the algorithm cannot steal,” she says. “People watch EastEnders or Desperate Housewives because they become addicted to the storytelling, it’s the exact same for influencers.”

For those committed to this for the long haul, Fallon says get used to the idea of turning down big pay cheques. “To last in this game, you need a relationship with your audience, not just a following. We’ve said no to a lot of briefs for that reason. Because at the end of the day, virality will only get you so far… it’s consistency you want, and actually need.”

Photo: YouTube personality Jaclyn Hill (L) takes selfies with fans during Morphe store opening at the Miracle Mile Shops at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino on June 16, 2018 in Las Vegas, Nevada. (Photo by Gabe Ginsberg/Getty Images for Morphe)