Don’t Get Scammed By Shiny Social Media Stars
By: Felicia C. Sullivan
Tags: Writing, Content Marketing, Marketing, Social Media, Influencer Marketing

Hustle is as hot as oxygen, kids, and we want the inhale. From courses and ebooks to group coaching and masterminds, online stars, with their megawatt smiles and manufactured humility, promise success and cash money millions. Adoring fans coo at every caption and clap for every recycled “viral” story. The platitudes are pithy and the advice is pedestrian, but my oh my, would you get a look at their shiny hair?

For the low, low price of $1999, you too can have fame, fortune, and a guest feature on my Instagram story!

We’re vulnerable, desperate for an easy fix during the epic trash fire that is our time, and they guarantee betterment. And you think to yourself — they’re just like me. If they’re cloaked in cash, why can’t I be? In marketing, we like to call this selling relatability. People believe a level of success is possible if the person achieving it is only a few steps ahead of them. They’ll never access Kylie billions, but five-figures-a-month like the micro-influencer du jour? Sign me up, son.

But have you ever asked yourself whether they’re qualified to teach what they’re hocking? Have they achieved the success they’re pitching you for many other people? Or is their success story their sole case study and we’ve been blinded by the influencer light?

Yesterday, my online friend Bianca Bass shared an article about the unregulated life coaching industry in the UK and how scores of women got scammed by a star who sold them on the manifesting money lie. I’m always skeptical of bold proclamations that don’t account for privilege, education access, and socioeconomic status. As if the playing field has magically leveled for all. And my bullshit radar is on high alert when people pitch salves to people at their most vulnerable.

In the Refinery29 article, one of the victims of an Instagram influencer’s “business school” (and I’m being generous here) was asked why she paid for business and financial advice from someone who wasn’t qualified to give either. She says,

“Being vulnerable is not something I would like to admit to,” Leonne says on the phone…her voice cracking with emotion. “But I guess, actually, that I really was. When something that looks like a miracle cure to your situation pops up it does intrigue you, especially when we’re in the middle of a pandemic and everyone is a bit more desperate than usual.”

The irony here is the democratization of the online space, which has made it easier for people to craft a career for themselves and experience stratospheric success, but tricky to replicate for anyone else. Success can be the result of a confluence of factors, many of which are not in our control, such as timing, luck, privilege, connections, and old-fashioned beauty and charisma. We cleave to the influencer because our proximity might bask us in their glow. If we barnacle ourselves to their lives hard enough, maybe some of that sheen will rub off on us. Success through osmosis, etc.

Believe me when I say this is less of a rant than a warning. Even the most skeptical can be receptive to the lure of a simpler, cuter life — especially when we’re at our most vulnerable. We become the kind of voyeurs we never see coming.

Our brains are hardwired to pursue the path of least resistance, the dreamier option. So, we’ll contract the cheaper strategist, graphic designer or programmer that will cost us more in the long run. They’ll speak jargon, and the sum total of their experience exists of learning versus learning and doing for others. We’ll shell out hundreds for courses and thousands for masterminds taught by people who’ve never had a job, a pivot, a long-term track record of procuring the success they sell for others. Repeatedly. Over a long period of time.

You don’t need fancy degrees and a five-star resume to gain experience and expertise. You don’t need to have two decades of marketing experience like me to be a successful strategist. Age isn’t a factor until you invalidate experience or laud youth over experience. All you need is a sample size beyond yourself and your unique set of circumstances. Do the thing you’re selling for others, with tangible results. Put in the work. Procure the skills of your trade by apprenticeship and practice. Focus less on your socials and more on getting really fucking good at the thing you do.

Because socials and marketing aren’t about doing the thing, they’re about distribution of the thing. You get better at writing books by writing them. You become a stellar strategist by crafting strategies, creating methodologies and frameworks, and consistently refining your systems based on client feedback, peer collaborations, and experience.

You don’t become an expert at the thing by telling people you’re an expert at the thing whilst selling them your personal story or snaps of your curated life because authenticity makes the path to sucking in suckers easier than doing the work.

You don’t need hordes of followers to be reputable because, contrary to popular opinion, more doesn’t mean legitimate. Showing up consistently and doing the work breeds trust and legitimacy. My objective was never to be “famous” online — in fact, I’m allergic to it because fame means you have to deal with people and I deal with enough people. And people have a pile of wants, which they have no problem dropping in my lap, along with 45 follow-up emails. And it’s always been my opinion that among the famous, few of them are actually good at the thing — they’re merely deft at gaining attention.

For me, the online space is a conduit. It showcases my point-of-view, acumen, and expertise to guide others and gain clients. But I never promise success because how could I? Unlike my individual clients, I don’t know you or your background. There is no single formula, the formula has to be tailored to the circumstance. Instead, I give you a roadmap, a compass, snacks, and a tank of gas. Educate and empower is my bag. When I sell something, I’m telling you how to do the thing, not how to make a million dollars doing the thing, because teaching you the skill is something I can guarantee. Individual success for stranger? Hard pass.

It’s up to you to do the work and find your own way.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m not in the business of binaries. There exist people for whom the online space is the destination — content creators who have specific careers where their currency is their personality or life. And while many do branch out their careers and some are indeed experts, popularity and expertise aren’t necessarily correlated. Online fame doesn’t give you trespass to the expert kingdom or the audacity to guarantee sweeping success for the masses — doing the work does.

We’re living in unimaginable times filled with paralyzing fears and crippling self-doubts and there will be people who prey on those doubts and fears as much as those who succumb to them.

My point is this — before going in for easy, pause and ask the tough questions.

Question whether the person to whom you’re entrusting your money spends more time architecting and pruning their online life than delivering results for their clients. What’s their track record? Do they have one? Do they have testimonials, social proof, and results? Are they educating and empowering from their personal experience or do they rely on regurgitating the paths of others? It’s the “lessons they’ve learned” from Steve Jobs, Elon Musk, or some other staid genius bro more than imparting wisdom from their own experience. What are they selling you and what are the outcomes you’ll experience?

Then, ask yourself the trickier questions. Why this person? Are you attracted to them, the life they have and the one you covet? Why now? Why this moment? Separate the player from the game and is the game one worth pursuing? Is it worth risking your money for?

Or, are you really buying the terrific fiction they’re selling, the dream?