When tears stain the cheeks of those we idolize the most, all wrongdoing is forgotten and our hearts open back up to them. At least, that’s what the hope is with the trend of influencer apologies. Gone are the days of written notes and silent Instagram posts; to be seen is to be heard, and to be heard is to be forgiven. Though, at what point did we start to see through the laughable attempts of connection between us and those who carefully curate their existence into a neat online portfolio?
One of the most infamous influencer apologies is Colleen Ballinger’s ukulele-led video titled “hi.” Following allegations of grooming her underage fans and making inappropriate comments, a vulnerable-looking Ballinger, also known as Miranda Sings, took to songwriting to express her sincerest apologies. Set up on her couch and wearing a plain black tank top, she appears down to earth, raw and even a tad bit remorseful; but with the first strum of the ukulele in her lap, the tone changes from apologetic to mocking. The “toxic gossip train” that spread allegations of Ballinger’s misconduct is used as the catchy centerpiece of her song’s chorus, while the YouTube star chalks the whole thing up to a mere misunderstanding.
Besides the fact that Ballinger’s apology video was met with obvious criticism for its lack of sensitivity towards the topic, her attempts to be relatable are all too obvious, starting even before the video is played. The video’s thumbnail is the look of a defeated influencer, with downturned eyes and an expression that almost makes me feel sorry for her. Even the title of the video, a single word in lowercase letters, works to humanize her: the meek and ignorant influencer who simply made a mistake.
While a flippant attitude and poor choice of medium are not present in all influencer apologies, one thing Ballinger’s video and others have in common is the way they are perfectly scripted to seem totally not scripted. Although Ballinger’s apology is in the form of a song, which she obviously wrote ahead of time, there are multiple points in the 10-minute video in which she “breaks character” and uses a speaking voice rather than singing. These parts are made to seem like she is conveniently recalling important information as the video is being recorded, but any viewer can see those “breaks” are just as scripted as the rhyming in the song. What often gets lost amongst those who believe influencer apologies to be sincere is the fact that they are indeed scripted. Even if they are not scripted, we have no idea how many times an influencer re-recorded their video to get the perfect take.
Thank about a friend who wronged you. You were probably hurt and shocked that someone you love so much would wrong you in such a terrible way. Now, think about their apology. Did they have a script in front of them? Did they strum the wrong chord on their ukulele and ask to start over? Real apologies filled with remorse don’t get a second take to hide behind. They also don’t get a PR team telling them which hairstyle will garner the most sympathy from those they wronged.
Influencers are not us, although they want us to feel like they are. Rich, but not too rich. Perfect, but not too perfect. The life of an influencer is that of a balancing act, trying to elevate themselves amongst the masses for brand deals and sponsorships but never getting high enough to lose touch with their parasocial friends. What is attractive about an influencer is not their lavish and unattainable lifestyle, as is the case with true celebrities. Influencers gain fame because we believe they are one of us, which is why when they do mess up, they have historically been allowed to apologize and gain forgiveness. Unfortunately for them, fans are beginning to see through the crocodile tears.
Everything about the existence of influencers is scripted. Social media is a tiny fraction of real life, which truly holds no basis in the real world. Seeing my favorite Instagram influencer promote a sponsored protein powder doesn’t make me believe I will achieve their already-perfect body by purchasing the product. Why should hearing an influencer apologize for doing something so clearly wrong make me believe they are sorry? While apologies aren’t attempts to sell a product, they are attempts to sell the idea that someone who should have known better is only human and deserves a second chance.
I don’t buy that logic, and I don’t think anyone else should. One thing that always comes with fame is the responsibility of being someone worthy of it. If there are PR teams at the ready when an influencer does wrong, they are just as accessible to tell influencers how to avoid doing something wrong in the first place. There is simply no excuse for people with money and fame to make such obviously wrong mistakes. I want to note that I disagree with dredging up mistakes from someone’s pre-influencer past to implicate them years down the line.
However, making mistakes when you already have an influencer’s status is unacceptable. These influencers have nothing but time and money to learn how to be worthy of the fame their fans are giving them. So again, I want to remind you that influencers are not us, no matter how hard they try to pretend they are. They are people with wealth and endless resources that should be able to prevent mistakes before they happen, and not give half-hearted apologies when they do.
Cailee Zeraat, FCRH ’25, is an English major from Fairfax, Va.
