In the wake of Instagram’s international second wave of the platform’s “no likes, no views” test feature, controversy stirs over the way the change could affect users, both positively and negatively. On the positive side, these features challenge the like-based self-worth measuring method applied by some users, particularly adolescents. In the words of Instagram’s CEO, Adam Moserri, the intent is to allow the app to harness a “less pressurized environment,” perhaps even one in which users feel a stronger sense of community among their peers. It sounds like a dream come true, right? 

However, on the negative side, many have directed their focus on the way a permanent transition into this feature could affect an ever-emerging breed of social media user: the Instagram Influencer. 

As defined by Pixlee, Instagram Influencers are “users who have an established credibility and audience; who can persuade others by virtue of their trustworthiness and authenticity.” That girl you barely spoke to in high school with thousands of followers, a flawless profile, and a million hashtags per post? She’s a part of this population, and, on top of her digital claim to fame, she probably makes more money than the both of us combined.  

For Instagram Influencers, the “like” feature acts as a measuring tool for their actual influence. Without it, it could force a change in dynamic between the Influencer and their audience; maintaining genuine relationships that go beyond “a like for a like” might become a focal point. 

For those wondering how a potential dynamic between a super fan and an Insta-Star could play out in a world too accustomed to Influencer culture, Ingrid Goes West (2017) is here to show you. Newsflash, it’s creepy. 

The film follows Ingrid Thorburn, an Instagram cyberstalker, who travels to LA to become best friends with her newest Influencer obsession, Taylor Sloane. Ingrid’s character presents a caricature of an individual who has become so entwined with social media that she has lost her ability to socialize properly away from her phone screen. Her life is guided by digital “likes” from moment to moment, and this hinders her ability to realize that her likability in real life is ultimately non-existent. 

We catch a glimpse of this during the film’s opening sequence when Ingrid’s reaction to being left out of a local Influencer’s wedding results in a mental breakdown and an assault on the bride. This serves to establish Ingrid as someone who has a tendency to read too deeply into the relationships she maintains online; for her, surface-level, online engagement turns into a profession of unwavering devotion and friendship beyond the screen. 

However, where Ingrid’s character lacks personality, Taylor’s character lacks authenticity. Taylor embodies the basic Influencer archetype; she’s trendy, she’s fun, she’s seemingly deeper than we think. (She literally sites The Deer Park as her favorite book in the world, what’s deeper than that?) And, of course, she’s paid to make sure every post she makes reflects these things as genuinely as possible. But, when the veil is slowly lifted as her relationship develops with Ingrid, she’s ultimately revealed to be a fraud, unwilling to acknowledge her real-world problems.

Among her unresolved issues is her troubled marriage to her alcoholic, failing artist husband, Ezra. During a scene shared between Ingrid and Ezra, he drunkenly confides that Taylor’s so-called career has made her fake and unable to enjoy anything she didn’t deem to be “the best”. He goes on to suggest, however, that she’s rarely the one truly deciding what she thinks is amazing. As the narrative progresses, it becomes clear that Taylor’s relationships with people rarely go beyond surface-level and results in a similar inability to genuinely connect. 

Beyond it’s leading ladies, the film provides a broad spectrum of characters that represent the different types of social media users (and non-users), ranging from the relatable, casual user to the avid abolitionist. This provides varying examples of the types of approaches social media users make toward relationships on and offline. The major theme throughout presents the conundrum of remaining genuine in a culture rife with examples of what true authenticity should look like; and, as the narrative drives home, even the #realme posts are likely crafted for the specific purpose of generating a relatable viral post. 

Though the narrative presented here is as cynical on the subject as one could possibly get, I think there is a lot of value in the message. The over-exaggeration of archetypes all serve the purpose of providing examples of the types of people that we could be without maintaining an online/offline life balance. Existing in a never-ending delusion of our own creation where everything is awesome all of the time, or constantly comparing our lives to the people living in the delusion, will only create a universal inability to maintain genuine relationships and socialize with other human beings. 

Will removing the “like” button on Instagram change our course as a collective society? Probably not. It might, however, force us to work a little harder to connect with each other, online and off, and that’s one step toward true authenticity that I consider to be worth taking. 

For Further Reading:

As Instagram tests its ‘like’ ban, influencers will have to shift tactics to make money

What Instagram removing likes may mean for influencers and our self-esteem

Instagram Starts Test To Hide Number of Likes Posts Receive for Users in 7 Countries

Social Media’s Impact On Self-Esteem

About the Author

Mercedes K. Milner is a Co-Founder and Administrator of the Write or Die Chicks and the Writers Group Coordinator. She is a staff writer for the WODC Blog and she heads the Reading on Writing column.