Can TikTok “De-Influencers” Save the World?

There’s a genre of videos on TikTok that might, at first, seem at odds with the platform’s reputation as a site that drives excessive consumption. Instead of showing off a recent clothing haul or hawking aesthetically pleasing plastic storage containers available for purchase on their Amazon storefront, the creators of these videos boast about reusing old water bottles, recycling peanut butter jars for storage and repairing jeans they have had for years. They want you to pick up hobbies, spend more time in nature and buy fewer things. They are trying, to the best of their ability, to de-influence you. 

While the idea of “de-influencing” might sound strange, the trend and its cousin, “underconsumption core,” have been popular since a segment of social media users started engaging with content that rejected the aggressive way creators promoted sponsored products. As with all online microtrends, it’s hard to pin down an exact origin story, but de-influencing found a more mainstream audience in 2023, when beauty influencers went off-script and began dishing about products their followers shouldn’t buy.

Underconsumption, on the other hand, was something sustainability and environmentally conscious creators have been practicing for years. “We had been making these videos about these exact topics for several years,” says Summer Dean, a 27-year-old environmental storyteller who makes online content about sustainability. “We just weren’t using the word ‘underconsumption.’” Both trends gained a lot of traction before tapering off around 2024. But now, with Donald Trump back in the White House and the harsh realities of an increasingly recessive economy dominating headlines, de-influencing and underconsumption are regaining significance.  

In his first term, Trump rolled back more than 100 environmental rules. Now, the president and his cronies are feeling even more emboldened, which means existing protections and potential climate change legislation hardly stand a chance at survival. The administration has already announced deregulatory moves that include rolling back plans that limit air pollution in communities, reversing rules that force industrial polluters to report their emissions, loosening safeguards for people who live near chemical plants, and cutting funding for agencies that research the impact of rising global temperatures in the United States. This is all happening while people around the country experience unprecedented and unpredictable weather patterns — from alarming infernos in California to startling floods in North Carolina. 

“A lot of people are asking, ‘What do we do?’” says Dean. “How do we exist in this world without supporting these corrupt companies that are helping the government strip us of our rights?” 

These questions have led some Gen Z-ers to de-influencing and underconsumption content. Dean personally saw an uptick in user engagement after the election and inauguration. She attributes the increase to her generation’s desire for more guidance and education, as well as a hunger for alternative ways of living.

Brennan Coker, a 29-year-old environmental content creator and co-host of the sustainability podcast Talking in Spirals, agrees. “People want to see real life,” she says. “Budgeting content and cooking-from-scratch content performs really well on these platforms, because people can relate more so to that than an influencer showing you how perfect their high-income life is.” In an online space dominated by advertisements and garish displays of wealth, content that encourages users not to buy anything new can be both empowering and, in Dean’s words, kind of radical. 

Although they share some similarities, de-influencing and underconsumption videos aren’t the same. Creators of the former will often suggest one product instead of another, while those who participate in the latter advocate for little to no spending at all. A typical video within the underconsumption genre features a person highlighting items that reflect mindful spending decisions and an orientation toward less wastefulness. In one popular video, Jess Clifton (@jess.clifton on TikTok) frames underconsumption as a cool habit that makes people more interesting. She shows off her secondhand furniture, brags about repurposing pasta sauce containers as drinking glasses, and gushes about using propagated plants and beach treasures to decorate her home. “Target cannot beat my sand dollar collection,” she says at one point. 

The form of underconsumption videos also differs dramatically from the usual influencer offerings, mostly because they aren’t trying to sell viewers anything. Creators ditch ring lights for more natural options and often film their videos outside, as if advertising for Mother Nature herself. 

Of course, it needs to be acknowledged that these online movements aren’t new. For older generations repairing broken items was a no-brainer, and in working-class communities underconsumption is not a trend but a means of survival. “People from more well-off countries like the U.S. started this trend but it’s kind of mimicking the way of life of people who aren’t as well off,” Dean says, “and that reinforces what a lot of people in sustainability have been saying: People in lower incomes will always be the most sustainable people in our society, and it’s not out of choice.” 

Both Coker and Dean hope that the resurgence of the trend doesn’t leave that important context behind. “It’s an overarching good that this is mainstream,” Coker says of underconsumption and de-influencing, but “there’s so much that needs to be done. It’s much deeper than just seeing a video of somebody drinking their iced coffee from a jelly jar.” 

Thankfully, there’s a class of creators like Karishma Porwal (@karishmaclimategirl on TikTok), who pair their participation in these trends with educational content. Porwal’s page is filled with short clips about climate legislation and actions. Most of them focus on Ontario, where she is based, but she also takes a global perspective. Her underconsumption videos live alongside information about the reality of fracking, youth climate corps (a program that pays young people to take jobs fighting against the environmental crisis) and other useful insights. The mix of higher-stakes topics with seemingly lower-stakes ones makes understanding the climate crisis and taking steps toward living sustainably more accessible. 

And that’s key for a better climate future. Getting people clear information, including about straightforward actions they can take in their own lives, empowers them to question how normalized overconsumption has become in the United States, to experiment with more sustainable habits and to demand more from elected officials. Coker, who lives in Florida and has extended family who are “pretty right-wing,” believes that this kind of outreach will help people wake up. Right now, she’s using her platform to bring attention to a pro-plastics bill that’s making its way through Florida’s legislature. 

Dean also underscores the importance of community engagement. As she’s deepened her roots in Los Angeles, she’s noticed that she doesn’t need to mindlessly spend money. “After you go to an event, you don’t feel like you need to go shopping or order on Amazon,” Dean says, pointing out the links between rampant consumerism and feeling isolated. “It’s really powerful and empowering to share things with people that you care about.” Instead of taking Ubers, she asks friends for rides, and if she’s traveling to a city where she knows people, she will ask to stay with them instead of getting an Airbnb. However imperfect, these trends, at their core, can remind people that if they look around, they already have what they need.

This story appears in the April 2025 Sustainability digital issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to see the rest of the issue.