Could influencers be the new priests of our age? Spreading gospel in the form of skincare, hustle culture, and conspiracy?
Aight, let’s start with a confession — I once bought a RM200 face serum because an influencer said it made her “glow like peace and purpose.” Spoiler alert: I glowed like a “pisang goreng” instead. XAXAXA.
But that moment — the swipe-up-to-believe-it moment — got me thinking. What if influencers are the new priests? Their sermons don’t happen on Sundays. They stream daily. Their scripture? Captions. Their miracles? Filters. Their tithe? Your attention.
Welcome to the new religion: Influencism™.
🧴 The Gospel According to Skincare
In the old days, holy water could cleanse your soul. Today? It’s a 10-step Korean routine that promises to cleanse your pores and realign your chakras. Influencers preach routines with sacred precision. “Double cleanse, tone, essence, serum, moisturise, SPF.” Miss one step, and you’re a sinner doomed to breakouts.
And don’t you dare question their authority — these skinfluencers have glowing receipts (a.k.a. filtered selfies) and sponsored partnerships to prove they’ve achieved digital enlightenment.
💼 Hustle Culture: The New Prosperity Gospel
Enter the gospel of grind. The online prophets of hustle whisper sweet productivity mantras into our algorithmic souls:
“Wake up at 5am.”
“Read 50 books a year.”
“If you’re not building a personal brand, you don’t exist.”
Sound familiar? It’s the modern twist of God helps those who help themselves, except now it’s The Universe rewards those who repost motivational quotes.
And just like any preacher worth their salt, these hustle-gurus sell salvation — in the form of online courses, affiliate links, and limited-time ebooks. Redemption? Yours for RM199. Discount code: BLESSED.
🧠 Conspiracy as Community
Let’s not forget the other corner of the digital temple — the underground prophets. The conspiracy influencers. These ones preach from the Book of Shadows (read: Reddit threads and dodgy YouTube channels).
Their sermons are spicy:
“The earth is flat.”
“Birds aren’t real.”
“5G caused the pandemic.”
It’s nonsense, but it feels profound. Why? Because like all good cults, they offer belonging. Certainty. A shared enemy (Bill Gates, apparently). And most importantly, they give you truths they don’t want you to know.
Every generation has its doomsayers. Ours just come with affiliate links and Patreon accounts.
📱 Worship in the Age of Wi-Fi
We don’t gather in temples or chapels anymore. We scroll. We like. We comment “Yasss preach!! 🔥🙏💯” under Reels.
Influencers give us what old-school religion once did:
- A sense of purpose (“You’re not lazy, you just haven’t monetised your passion yet.”)
- Rituals (morning affirmations and gua sha sessions)
- Saints and sinners (Saint Taylor, Sinner Logan)
- And a promised land (aesthetically lit, Bali-filtered, mentally healed)
😏 So… Are Influencers Really the New Priests?
Maybe not priests in the theological sense. But in function? Oh yes. They guide behaviour, shape culture, and define what’s “in” or “immoral” (like wearing skinny jeans in 2025 — heresy!).
They offer us meaning in a chaotic, content-flooded world. They’re relatable deities, selling salvation in skincare pots, hustle guides, or perfectly choreographed chaos.
Just don’t forget — the gospel might be sponsored.
Final Amen:
In this modern age of curated lives and sponsored sermons, maybe it’s time we ask: Are we following influencers… or worshipping them?
And more importantly: Is that RM200 serum really worth your faith?
XAXAXA.
References:
- The Empty Religions of Instagram – The New Times
- The Psychology of Conspiracy Theorists: More Than Just Paranoia – Neuroscience News
- The Pros And Cons Of Hustle Culture: How To Work Hard Without Burning Out – Fobes
- Psychology of Influence – GRIN
Wanna dive deeper into the gospel of algorithms or the theology of TikTok? Let me know. I’ll keep my sermon short, but sharp 😈