Disagree with this take.
My impression is that people are putting too much on the separation between humans and AI. In the future, this line will blur, much like how people 30 years ago mistakenly drew a hard line between online and "the real world." With dating apps and online friend meet-ups, that border got destroyed a long time ago.
IMO, the title of this clip already suggests why the viewpoint is wrong. "Will AI End the Influencer Era" assumes that influencers started with the internet. In reality, influencer marketing goes way back.
In the 18th century, English potter Josiah Wedgwood promoted his products by giving members of British aristocracy free products that they could display, such as earthenware tea sets, ornamental vases, and fancy plates. Since his products were associated with the British ruling class, he eventually commanded a premium from members of the lower class who wished to copy them. In fact, if you look up "Wedgwood plates" online, you'll probably see them as "refined" and "tasteful." His product seeding — not unlike how fashion brands give Kim Kardashian free clothes — can still be felt today. The reason why you see them as "tasteful" is purely about their association with British aristocracy.
I disagree with this take because it misunderstands the motivations behind much human consumption. The man in the video suggests that AI in the future can help us personalize products to fit our desires, rather than the preferences of another person (a designer or influencer). However, this assumes that your desires are independent and not couched in a broader social framework. I'd argue that people's consumption habits are more often about social relations.
I'll give you an example. When I was on a menswear forum, a well-respected member touted this beautiful light-blue shirt fabric he got from his far-flung bespoke tailor in Naples. It had unique mottling, which allowed it to sit somewhere between the formality of dressy white poplins and the light blue chambray workwear cloths. Later, another well-regarded member found the company that made the fabric: the oldest mill in France, founded in 1787, known for its fine textile weaving and lacework. He bought a few bolts and sold cut lengths to American customers. The fabric soon became popular with other influential members on the board.
Another member later discovered that this fabric was not pure cotton. Instead, it contained a bit of polyester, which accounts for why some members boasted about the fabric's seemingly natural ability to resist wrinkles. This caused a fire sale among the remaining boutique retailers, and I bought as much as I could.
I will always love this cloth, despite its small percentage of synthetics, because of what it represents in a broader social context. It reminds me of a funny story about some memorable people in the social group I was part of. AI will never be able to replicate this feeling in me because it can't create that situation.
The same is true for a lot of stuff I consume. I'm enamored with Norwegian split-toe derby shoes because they are worn by people I admire, such as menswear writer Bruce Boyer and Japanese clothier Yukio Akamine. I like raw denim jeans because there's an online social group that talks about "sick fades." I hope to one day buy a Rolex 1016 underline gilt dial with a chapter ring because it was recommended to me by someone I consider to have good taste.
There are large online economies centered on consumer products, such as fountain pens, mechanical watches, menswear, audio systems, and perfumes. People engage with these things partly because they love the product in question (e.g., a fountain pen hobbyist obviously loves fountain pens). But they are also in it for the *community.* They buy things because an influential person in that community — let's call them an influencer — recommended it. Then they show off their purchase to their online hobbyist friends (e.g., "In my experience with Nakaya toki-tamenuri cigar pen, the nib is too stiff."). This garners them social capital in the community, making them feel like they belong and are respected.
Clothes perform certain utilitarian functions, such as protecting us from cold and wind. But their most important function is signaling to a group, such as saying "I'm nerdy," "I'm countercultural," or "I'm artistic." They signal belonging to a group and our individuality within that group (e.g., "I'm a punk rocker, but I'm also a very unique person within this broader social group"). AI can never completely replace the influencer because it can't hold cultural capital within a group, as it's not a member of that group.
Casual consumers may turn to purely AI-driven systems for product recommendations in the future. I sometimes use the NYT's Wirecutter to figure out which spoon to buy, even though I'm not in a spoon community and don't care what my spoon signals. But there are many products oriented around groups, and this is where the influencer will continue to thrive, just as people bought Wedgwood plates after seeing them on Queen Charlotte's shelf.