The cost of living and the demands of life itself, intersecting with the current circumstances of existence, have driven creators to hustle constantly, monetizing their presence online. On YouTube, this has created a new category of content that thrives on relatability: viewers who are themselves "crashing out" want to see others in similar situations.
This has led to the emergence of so-called “crash-out grifters” — creators whose content is designed to resonate with the struggles and failures of their audience. These creators often appeal to audiences in the following camps: lonely, rejected, neurodivergent, depressed, incel, femcel, and other marginalized or disillusioned groups.
The growth of these “tribes of rejection and disillusionment” has created a new market, which some creators exploit by marketing their persona to financially benefit from traffic and engagement.
Many creators openly express gratitude for views, subscriptions, or superchats, often in an over-the-top and repetitive way that dilutes genuine sentiment. This is usually part of a marketing strategy rather than authentic appreciation.
Audience placation becomes central: content may begin with raw honesty, but over time, creators shift focus to maintaining engagement and income. Some creators are primarily performative from the start, while others begin by sharing their struggles honestly. Once they acquire a sizable audience — typically 10–30k subscribers — many switch to a performance mode, in which their original persona ceases to exist.
This shift occurs because creators are conditioned by early feelings of success and approval, and because audiences expect consistent, relatable content. If a creator overcomes their struggles or moves on from a “crash,” their audience can no longer relate, creating a performance trap that inhibits natural growth.
The platform itself heavily shapes creator behavior. YouTube’s algorithm may give a new creator an initial boost, promoting their videos and rapidly increasing subscribers. This surge of early success conditions the nervous system to seek audience approval, creating a strong positive feedback loop.
As a result, creators feel compelled to continue performing and producing content that maintains this sense of success, even if it requires exaggeration or dishonesty. This phenomenon is pervasive and explains why many creators become increasingly performative as they gain traction.
This cycle is not limited to online video. In music, art, and other creative fields, early success often shifts focus from the craft itself to maintaining status, income, and audience approval. Initial authenticity attracts attention, but sustaining success increasingly relies on performance and audience management rather than pure creation.
Terms like “real,” “unfiltered,” and “genuine” have been absorbed into the marketing strategy of this new wave of creators/grifters. The market demands authenticity, yet to monetize consistently, creators cannot remain truly authentic. Genuine experiences are temporary and seasonal; constant entertainment requires acting and persona-spoofing to keep audiences engaged.
When considering the high cost of living, the pursuit of social and sexual success, the demands of life itself, and the rules of the attention economy, the result is stark: everyone on the platform — and in the broader social continuum — is incentivized to perform and present a curated persona constantly. Authenticity becomes a tool, rather than a state, in the ongoing grind of attention and survival.
This means that every conceivable identity — any group formed around a shared grievance, interest, or other unifying factor — has been absorbed into the marketing machine. You want to believe that the person you’re watching truly resonates with you, but they could simply be performing. The result is that trust in online personalities erodes, and the hustle-driven ecosystem cannibalizes itself.
We can see what they are doing, but commenting “I see you” is ultimately meaningless. Why do people engage in this performance? Mostly because they want to avoid a mundane or undesirable job. In the full-speed pursuit of monetization scraps on YouTube, grifters exhaust every possible angle, leaving nothing original or compelling.
I’ve reached the point where I can’t watch anything anymore — all I see is acting and performance masquerading as “reality.” The only thing that could hold my attention was the hope that someone genuinely related to me. That hope is long gone.
It’s over. YouTube has been entirely consumed. There’s nothing left because everything has already been commodified and exhausted.
When relatability becomes a marketable commodity, authenticity is subordinated to performance. Survival and status incentives push people toward continuous self-marketing. The age of genuine content is long over. You can see it dying in the resulting disbelief and sense of alienation, which fuels the audience’s “desire for authenticity.” The system has noticed this demand and responds with: “Step right up! Come and get it! Authenticity and ‘realness’ right here! Super chats welcome, links to Cash App in the description!”
The last group the system can exploit are those who are disillusioned and searching for something real. This creates a paradox: content cannot remain truly authentic while being monetized for long. Over time, “real” and “authentic” simply become new buzzwords in the marketing machine. The dicky is cooked.
The attention economy and algorithm-driven maximization can only sustain itself for so long. Every possible angle has been exploited, every niche monetized, every identity performed for clicks and engagement. Once this saturation is reached, authenticity collapses, novelty disappears, and audiences grow fatigued. In essence, the age of content is over—what remains is a fully commodified loop of attention, where creators, platforms, and viewers are all caught in a cycle that ultimately cannot sustain itself. Eventually, no one will believe that anyone is doing anything except performing or spoofing a persona to compete for attention within the system. This marks the total collapse of trust: the moment when audiences can no longer distinguish authenticity from performance, and the belief that anything seen is real disappears entirely.
Once a creator receives money and approval, remaining truly real becomes impossible. Monetary rewards and audience validation condition the nervous system, creating a feedback loop that alters behavior. This is a fundamental dynamic: people adapt their actions to ensure their needs and comforts are met, and in doing so, authenticity is inevitably compromised. Any channel where the creator emphasizes “being real and authentic” or stresses “the importance of authenticity” is, by definition, performing a persona.