‘Kindness’ influencers on TikTok give money to strangers. Why is that controversial?

Every Christmas growing up in Minnesota, Jimmy Darts’ parents would give him $200 in cash: $100 for himself and $100 for a stranger. Now, with more than 12 million followers on TikTok and several million more on other platforms, philanthropy is his full-time job.

Darts, whose real last name is Kellogg, is one of the largest creators of “kindness content,” a subset of social media videos dedicated to helping strangers in need, often with money raised through GoFundMe and other crowdfunding methods. A growing number of creators like Kellogg are giving away thousands of dollars – sometimes even more – on camera, as they also encourage their large followings to donate.

“The Internet is a pretty crazy, nasty place, but good things are still happening,” Kellogg told The Associated Press.

However, not everyone likes these videos, with some viewers seeing them as performative at best and exploitative at worst.

Critics argue that recording a stranger, often unknowingly, and sharing a video of him or her online to gain social media influence is problematic. In addition to their influence, content creators can also make money from the views they get on individual videos. When the number of views reaches the millions, as is often the case for Kellogg and his colleagues, they earn enough to work full-time as content creators.

Comedian Brad Podray, a content creator formerly known online as “Scumbag Dad,” creates parodies designed to highlight the flaws he finds in this content – ​​and its proponents – as one of the most outspoken critics of ‘ kindness content’.

“Many young people have a very utilitarian mentality. They only think of things in measurable value: “It doesn’t matter what he did, he helped a million people,” Podray said.

Registration practices raise ethical questions

From the recording equipment and methods to the selection of topics, “kindness content” – like everything on social media – exists on a spectrum.

Some creators approach strangers and ask them for advice or a favor, and if they bite, they receive a prize. Others choose to reward strangers who see them doing a good deed. Kellogg performs a “kindness challenge,” where he asks a stranger for something and returns it in kind.

Many of these strangers are unaware that they are being filmed. Some creators use hidden cameras and aim to capture subjects in a discreet manner. Kellogg said he wants to be as “secretive about it” as possible, but asks for permission to share the video after the interaction. Kellogg said most agree because they look “like a superhero” after his challenge.

Another charity content creator, Josh Liljenquist, said he uses a GoPro camera and tries to make the shot “extremely eye-catching,” adding: “Consent is the most important thing.”

Regardless of the withdrawal method, some consider the process predatory.

“These guys always find someone with cancer or they always find someone who can’t pay their bills because they roam around underserved and poor areas and just wait,” Podray said. “He looks across the car park and says, ‘He looks pathetic enough’.”

Karen Hoekstra, the marketing and communications manager at the Johnson Center for Philanthropy, studies TikTok-based influencer philanthropy and says the videos sometimes exploit their subjects.

“The model of the man on the street walking up to a stranger and handing him money is – we’ve all heard this phrase, as terrible as it is – it strikes me as poverty porn,” Hoekstra said. “It’s exploitation.”

Calls for exploitation often arise when creators show the same people in multiple videos, especially if they appear to be homeless or have a drug addiction. Liljenquist regularly features a number of people and claims that his recurring subjects are his ‘best friends’.

One user commented on an Oct. 5 video that recent content makes it feel like Liljenquist is “playing caseworker for opinions,” as he posted several videos of a woman who followers suspect is struggling with drug addiction. He films himself bringing her food, giving her a ride in his Tesla and asking her questions that are often answered in one word.

Liljenquist said criticism doesn’t bother him because he knows his intentions are good.

“I love these people,” he said. “They love me.”

Lack of checks and balances

Some criticize the showmanship of “kindness content,” but visibility is crucial to the model that relies heavily on crowdfunding. Kellogg has been known to start GoFundMe fundraisers on behalf of his video subjects, which usually brings in tens of thousands of dollars in viewer donations.

Kellogg, Liljenquist, and a host of other creators also use their personal accounts on payment apps like Venmo, CashApp, or PayPal to accept donations.

Tory Martin, also from the Johnson Center as director of communications and strategic partnerships, said transparency about donations “is not an option if it only goes to an individual.”

While these creators don’t adhere to standards and regulations like nonprofits, Liljenquist says he feels like donor dollars in his hands go far further than in the hands of traditional organizations, which he says are “designed to fail.”

“Nonprofits – not all of them, there are some good ones – but I would encourage you to do your homework on the nonprofits you give money to because there are quite a few of them abusing the system,” he said .

Some creators have created nonprofits or foundations to support their work, but that is not a widespread practice.

Podray said he is “100% sure” that some creators are “taking a rake or there is some kind of nonsense going on.” He also claims that select creators are handing out fake money to capitalize on the trend.

Kellogg said it’s hard for him to see fraudulent or exploitative videos, and he worries: “My goodness, every Facebook mom just fell for this and thinks it’s real.”

New wave of philanthropy

While there is controversy surrounding these videos in some online circles, they are part of a hugely popular trend on social media with millions of supporters and thousands compelled to donate after watching.

Although Hoekstra is concerned about the methods of some creators, she says the introduction of charity donations for young people is valuable.

“Anything that can present philanthropy to them in a new way, make it accessible and exciting, I think is a good thing,” she said. “Obviously there will be a learning curve, but I think it’s really exciting to see philanthropy being so accessible and understandable and embraced in these new spaces and in new ways.”

Some skeptics have become supporters. Kyle Benavidez said he saw “kindness content” on social media and thought it was fake. But after his mother was featured in one of Kellogg’s recent videos and a GoFundMe Kellogg created for her raised more than $95,000 to support their family while her husband is in the hospital with cancer, he said Kellogg’s online persona is true to his true character.

“There is a chapel in the hospital and I always go there every morning to pray. “Hopefully something will happen.” And then Jimmy came into our lives,” said Benavidez, 20. “It’s like God sent him.”

Kellogg shows no signs of slowing down his philanthropic work anytime soon, posting videos to his social platforms almost every day. Still, he says doing good deeds on camera only matters if he and his colleagues can keep it up when the cameras aren’t rolling.

“You can fool people all day long and make money and do this and that, but God sees your heart,” he said.

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