From the influencer Alisasa (愛莉莎莎) claiming that the presidential election was rigged in a now-deleted post, to YouTube content creator Superpie (超哥) physically assaulting someone during a livestream, the actions of influencers are increasingly coming under public scrutiny. Alisasa and Superpie have since apologized. Nevertheless, many people worry that these irresponsible influencers, who seem to prioritize garnering views on social media over anything else, have outsized sway in Taiwan’s sociocultural landscape.
This “nuisance influencer problem” is not unique to Taiwan. Johnny Somali, a US live streamer, is known for harassing locals and yelling racist remarks during his live streams in Japan. Somali’s income largely stems from donations from Internet trolls who find humor in such obnoxious behavior. There is a monetary incentive for Somali to be as rude and abrasive as possible, as infamy still brings rewards in today’s online ecosystem. He has been arrested for obstruction of business due to playing loud music at a restaurant and has since apologized in court, promising to “never take videos again,” the Japan Times reported.
Many content creators have been vocal in condemning Somali to discourage such behavior, showing that the online community could still self-regulate to some extent. Nonetheless, his change in behavior is only a result of legal action.
Hence, some argue for the government to take stricter oversight of influencers. China has chosen this path. According to the Chinese state-owned Global Times, the Chinese Office of the Central Cyberspace Affairs Commission announced that “short videos spreading wrong values, such as boasting for an incorrect career view, unscrupulous means, negative nihilism, flaunting wealth, worshiping materialism, and indulging in extravagance, will be subject to supervision.”
However, this approach seems excessive and leads to a slippery slope that erodes freedom of expression.
Furthermore, regulating influencers to curb moral turpitude is treating the symptoms, not the disease.
Alisasa’s election denialism reflects Taiwan’s increasingly populist political climate, which leads to baseless conspiracy theories being accepted at face value and promoted by people of all ages, including college-educated voters. In other words, Alisasa is selling a message that the audience was already demanding.
Superpie’s resorting to violence reflects Taiwan’s gangster subculture, which often sees violence as the only option to defend one’s masculinity. Simply banning these influencers from social media does not address the root cause of social problems.
In a society that values freedom of expression, nuisance influencers are here to stay for better or worse. They might be loud and flashy, but the court of public opinion is rarely on their side. Social pushback is inevitable in extreme cases like that of Somali. Impressionable teens might pick up bad habits by watching these creators’ content, but these habits are usually abandoned as teens mature.
Nonetheless, parents need to be acquainted with forces that influence teens online — forces that operate without much oversight.
Ultimately, what makes an influencer a “nuisance influencer” is inherently subjective, as standards of morality differ from person to person. Influencers, especially those with large platforms, should bear social responsibility for their words and actions. With social media algorithms promoting those who accumulate more watch time and views, the best way to deal with nuisance influencers is to not interact with their content to begin with.
Linus Chiou is a graduate student at National Yang Ming Chiao Tung University.