How should a government go about communicating with people? It is an age-old question; for decades there were frequent controversies about the sometimes dodgy ad agencies hired by political parties. For years after that, attention turned to what they were getting up to online, how they were targeting voters on social media and what they were targeting them with.
Over the past week, attention has turned to the government’s latest attempt at being down with the kids, which involves paying influencers to spread their messaging. According to news reports, the Home Office is planning to ask foreign influencers to tell their countrymen not to bother trying and coming to Britain illegally.
It is, if nothing else, quite a novel way to deal with the small boats crisis, as well as a worthwhile effort, seeing as nothing else has worked so far. The plan was quick to attract criticism for being odd and callous, but the department made “no apologies for using every means necessary to stop the boats and save lives”.
“People smugglers frequently use social media to peddle lies and promote their criminal activities, and it is vital that we utilise the same platforms to inform migrants about the truths about crossing the Channel and coming to the UK illegally,” they said in a statement.
According to the Times, the Home Office has earmarked a budget of £30,000 and shortlisted, among others, a rapper, two comedians, lifestyle bloggers, TV personalities and a travel writer, all from Albania. The fee for each influencer would be capped at £5,000.
It is hard to read about the scheme and not find it quite absurd, in a vaguely malevolent way. Why should someone doing little videos about, say, fashion or holidays be paid by the British government to tell their viewers that they should under no circumstances decide to enter the country illegally? It sounds ridiculous, like especially clunky satire.
Still, it is worth wondering if it really is as preposterous as it seems. For a start, the Home Office wouldn’t be the first government department to rely on influencers to get their message across. Back in 2021, French influencers Macfly and Carlito won a bet with president Emmanuel Macron, who challenged them to make a viral video about ways of keeping safe during the pandemic. The video got over 10 million views in three days.
A few months earlier, fellow social media star Justezoé was criticised for hosting a video Q&A with then-government spokesperson Gabriel Attal (whatever happened to that guy?). Granted, none of those people were paid by the Elysee, but they did still work closely with the French government, and helped spread uncritical information about government policy.
It looks and feels weird because, quite frankly, none of us – me, writing this; you, reading it – grew up around influencer culture. Weirdly, mostly young, mostly photogenic, often bland people are essentially acting as one-man brands and ad agencies.
It is weird that they can just get paid to talk about whatever it is their clients want them to talk about. It is weird that they will, more often than not, talk about those things in a normal and casual way on social media, in the way that normal people would talk about their lives. It’s weird!
It is also frankly disturbing that many of them would consider themselves so apolitical that they would happily collaborate with a country’s government, as long as it got them money or more exposure. Cash is cash; success is success. What an odd and shallow way to go through life!
All of this being said, it is ultimately their choice. Similarly, governments cannot exactly be blamed for using all potential avenues available to them. Younger people do not tend to watch a whole lot of linear television, or frequently read newspapers. If they are to be reached, they must be met where they spend their time.
In short: don’t hate the player, hate the game. Well, or hate both. In this instance, you can probably hate both. What a world we live in.