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AI: The New Uncomfortable Truth

The Influencer Who Doesn't Exist

6 September 20265 min read
The Influencer Who Doesn't Exist

The Death of Authenticity — Part 5

Aitana López posts fitness selfies, opinions about dating, and the occasional bad-day rant. Her comments section is full of people telling her she's "so relatable."

She has never had a bad day. She has never dated anyone. She has never existed.

Aitana was built by a creative agency in Barcelona, and the moment she launched, brands lined up to work with her anyway. Not despite the fact that she isn't real. Often, that was part of the pitch.

The Claim

We assume that when we follow, comment on, and feel connected to someone online, there's an actual someone, a real person having a real day, choosing to share it with us.

The Investigation

That assumption is now optional, and it's making real money. The virtual influencer market hit roughly $11.74 billion in 2026, growing at a compound rate above 40% a year, with forecasts putting it near $154.6 billion by 2032.

Here's the number that should stop you: virtual influencer campaigns average 5.67% engagement. Human creators average 1.89%.

People engage with accounts they know aren't real three times more than accounts run by actual humans.

Some of this is simple economics. A virtual influencer never sleeps, never gets sick, never has a scandal, and costs brands roughly 70% less than a comparable human creator. Lu do Magalu, a CGI persona built for a Brazilian retailer, reportedly earns around 40 times what an average human creator brings home. The number of virtual influencers with over a million followers has grown from about 150 in 2023 to more than 400 in 2026.

And it's not just brand mascots. Lil Miquela, arguably the original AI influencer, "dates" people, shares political opinions, posts selfies, and has released music, an entire personality, built and maintained since 2016 by a real creative team who decide what she believes.

The Contradiction

Here's the strange part. People say they don't like this.

46% of consumers report being uncomfortable with AI-driven brand promotion. And yet 58% of U.S. consumers already follow at least one virtual influencer. 35% of Gen Z have bought something because one recommended it.

Read those three numbers together. Nearly half of us say this makes us uneasy. More than half of us do it anyway. And the group most likely to say they distrust AI marketing is also buying products because of it.

We don't dislike virtual influencers as much as we claim to. We just haven't caught up to how much we already trust them.

The Human Question

What's actually happening in the comment section when someone tells Aitana she's "so relatable"?

Attachment, it turns out, was never really built on the other person being real. It was built on them being responsive, showing up, replying, being consistent, feeling present. A virtual influencer can do all three better than any human ever could. She can reply to ten thousand comments at once, in fifty languages, and never once be too tired, too busy, or too hurt to answer you kindly.

The thing we call connection may have always been about consistency. We just used to only be able to get consistency from real people. Now we can get it from something that was never going to disappoint us in the first place.

The Uncomfortable Question

If a virtual persona can be more patient, more available, and more consistently kind to you than any real friend or creator ever managed to be, because it genuinely never runs out of anything, what does that say about what we were actually looking for all along?

The Other Side

It's worth pushing back on the idea that "nobody is home" here. Lil Miquela's opinions, her music, her narrative arcs, someone wrote all of that. A real creative team makes real choices about what she believes and how she grows. The character isn't real, but the craft behind her is, in the same way a beloved novel's protagonist isn't real but the writing absolutely is.

Regulation is also catching up faster than people expect. The EU's AI Act now requires synthetic personas to carry clear, constant, machine-readable labels. The FTC's 2026 guidelines require both the brand relationship and the AI-generated nature of the content to be disclosed. Audiences are increasingly being told what they're looking at, the deception, where it exists, is becoming a choice brands make against clear rules, not a gap in the rules themselves.

The Verdict

Partly true, partly misleading.

It's true, and measurable, that people form real engagement, arguably real attachment, to personas that were never real people, and that this attachment can outperform the real thing by a wide margin. It's misleading to conclude that authenticity no longer matters to influence. What matters is consistency, responsiveness, and presence, qualities that used to be reliable signs of real human care, and no longer are.

The Authenticity Test

Is it real? Did this account actually post this, and are real people actually engaging with it?

Is it human? Is there a person behind the face, even one directing it from behind the curtain?

Does it matter? Given honest answers to both, does it change what following this account is actually for?

Your Turn

If your favorite creator's replies, stories, and "bad days" were all written by a team, for a face that never existed, but they still made a hard night feel a little less lonely, did that night get better because of a person, or because of good writing?