The Cult of Personality

In 2025, the hottest wellness coach on TikTok isn’t a licensed therapist or a certified life coach—they’re a 26-year-old with perfect skin, a ring light, and a knack for confidently delivering hot takes about your childhood trauma. Influencers position themselves as lifestyle gurus, self-help sages, and pseudo-therapists, doling out relationship advice, mental health hacks, and spiritual guidance to millions.

If this sounds oddly familiar, that’s because it is. Anthropologically speaking, we’ve seen this before. While the medium has changed, today’s influencer-turned-healer mirrors the role of traditional shamans, charismatic leaders, and spiritual guides from various cultures. But instead of invoking spirits or consulting the bones for divination rituals, they're decoding attachment styles and explaining the "narcissist-empath dynamic" in 60-second clips.

From Village Shaman to Verified Shaman

In many societies, shamans have occupied a revered position as intermediaries between the spiritual and physical worlds. Their role is not simply to cure physical ailments but to address emotional, social, and existential concerns. Similarly, influencers today tap into the deeply human need for guidance, particularly in a world increasingly defined by disconnection and uncertainty.

The social media healer performs a modern version of ritual. Instead of smudging sage or chanting incantations, they light a candle, sip an iced matcha, and break down the "inner child wound" for a captivated audience. Their advice often feels intimate and personal, creating a para-social relationship that makes followers feel like they’re part of an exclusive circle of knowledge.

The Appeal of Digital Gurus

Content providers are thriving because consumers are craving this connection. Americans are struggling to cope and are actively seeking guidance, tools, and answers. Whether grappling with anxiety, loneliness, or societal pressures, people are turning to influencers not just for entertainment, but for emotional support and direction. Influencers fill this void by offering accessible advice in digestible formats, catering to an audience that feels overwhelmed yet hungry for connection. Why do these figures hold so much sway? The answer may lie in social structure.

Historically, shamans often gained influence by demonstrating wisdom through storytelling, symbolic interpretation, and communal rituals. Today’s influencers use digital tools to achieve the same effect. They curate Instagram grids like ceremonial altars, choreograph their speech rhythms for maximum impact, and build interactive spaces where followers contribute their own experiences—transforming comment sections into virtual talking circles.

This trend has deep roots. During my time in the San Francisco Bay Area and Los Angeles in the 2000s through 2010s, social value often hinged on cool currency. Conversations centered not just on career achievements or personal fulfillment, but on surreal, exclusive, and unusual types of projects or work—performative ventures seemingly designed to impress others.

Whether it was a friend collaborating on an underground art installation in a converted warehouse or someone developing a groundbreaking niche concept, the pressure to embody cultural relevance felt constant. In hindsight, this fixation on social valuation now seems like a precursor to the influencer phenomenon—an early stage in the transformation of coolness from social capital into an economic force.

Today, corporations with deep pockets actively court these digital tastemakers, turning performative coolness into a powerful marketing tool. Influencers with enough social sway can drive product trends, spark viral movements, and even shape mainstream discourse—all while monetizing their curated personas. What was once an intangible form of social capital has become a measurable economic driver, complete with brand deals, sponsorships, and subscription-based exclusives.

Tiers of Influence: From Personalities to Professionals

Not all influencers rely on charisma alone. Influence exists in tiers. On one end of the spectrum are entertainers and personalities who build fame through charm, humor, or aesthetics—often without formal expertise. These influencers dance, offer beauty advice, or narrate viral lifestyle trends. While their power lies in relatability or desire, their influence can spill into unexpected realms, from social movements to mental health conversations.

At the other end are credentialed professionals—clinical therapists, spinal surgeons, or licensed financial advisors—who strategically complement their expertise with influencer techniques. These figures blend traditional authority with marketing savvy, cultivating personal brands that straddle professionalism and entertainment. Their curated content often leverages their credentials to stand out in saturated markets, making complex topics digestible for mass audiences.

Both types of influencers wield power, but their methods—and the risks—differ. Where entertainers thrive on spontaneity and emotional connection, professionals risk oversimplifying their expertise to maintain engagement. The result is a digital landscape where consumers must navigate multiple layers of influence, deciding when charisma enhances wisdom and when it merely disguises misinformation.

Influencers and the Danger of Overreach

Digital shamanism carries significant risks. Unlike traditional spiritual guides, modern-day lifestyle coaches lack the accountability structures that come with established institutions. The advice they deliver is often anecdotal, oversimplified, or outright inaccurate. Worse still, their parasocial power can blur the line between guidance and manipulation. Influencers who adopt guru-like personas may find themselves more invested in preserving their influence than in delivering meaningful or responsible advice.

Some creators have even begun charging premium rates for personalized spiritual guidance, relationship coaching, or trauma healing—often without credentials. The result is a marketplace of self-help where influence trumps expertise, and followers risk confusing charisma with competence.

Critical Consumption

As this landscape evolves, we must ask ourselves: Do we want to become brands? Is curating our own lives for social relevance a natural extension of self-expression, or a performative trap that turns authenticity into strategy? As the pressure to craft a personal brand intensifies, how much of our identity is shaped by marketing ourselves rather than exploring who we are?

None of this is to say that influencers can’t offer valuable insights. Many are talented storytellers with compelling perspectives. But as with traditional shamans, their role is best understood as cultural interpreters rather than definitive experts.

Why I Write AnthroPop

I find it would be hypocritical not to address why I hide behind my screen and share my thoughts, while asking the same of others. In my day-to-day life, I often find myself surrounded by people I either agree with completely or disagree with entirely—but where social binds make arguing impossible. Navigating argumentative interactions can be sticky and complex, as they are often influenced by the nuances of social or professional etiquette. The desire to maintain harmony within broader social circles still persists for those outside my closest relationships. In these more elusive environments, the stakes of open debate can feel too high, leading to a kind of intellectual stasis where ideas remain unchallenged and discussions are superficial.

Writing AnthroPop has become my outlet, a space where I can channel my unfulfilled nervous energy into something meaningful and constructive. This platform allows me to explore my thoughts in depth, free from the constraints of immediate social repercussions. It’s my way of expressing my values, using my academic and professional background to analyze cultural trends and foster thoughtful conversation. Through the lens of anthropology and cultural studies, I delve into the intricacies of societal behaviors, examining how they are shaped by various factors such as history, technology, and human ways of being.

Each piece I write serves not only as a reflection of my perspective, but also as an invitation for others to engage with these topics critically without the stressors of arguing with a neighbor or soccer coach. I strive to create a dialogue that encourages readers to reflect on their own beliefs and consider alternative viewpoints, thus enriching the discourse around the cultural phenomena we encounter in our daily lives. In this way, AnthroPop transcends being merely a personal endeavor; it becomes a collaborative space where ideas can flourish and evolve, fostering a deeper understanding of the world around us.

As consumers of content, we can learn to identify the signs of canned wisdom versus genuine insight. Is the influencer promoting dialogue or demanding devotion? Are they encouraging self-reflection or claiming to have all the answers? The ability to distinguish between guidance and manipulation is crucial in a digital age saturated with self-proclaimed sages.

In the end, the influencer-as-shaman is a testament to an enduring truth: Humans crave meaning, guidance, and connection. Whether we find it in the flickering light of a TikTok feed or the smoke of a sacred fire, the need for trusted voices remains unchanged. The challenge is ensuring that the ones we follow are leading us toward empowerment, not exploitation.

Stay curious out there.

-AP