If you’re a Gen Z who grew up during the rise of social media influencers—especially in the early days of YouTube, you’ve likely stumbled across the now-infamous “Seven Super Girls” or “Piper Rockelle and her Squad”, among the many kid-focused Youtube channels that once dominated the platform.
While the former shut down after the emergence of disturbing allegations against its owner—a predatory older man accused of sexually exploiting the girls who would make these videos for him, some as young as thirteen—Rockelle continues to post videos alongside her mother, Tiffany Smith, despite facing a lawsuit from former squad members. The lawsuit alleges emotional, physical, and even sexual abuse of minors at the hands of Smith.
Netflix’s recent three-part docuseries “Bad Influence”, released last month, delves deeper into the dark side of “kidfluencing,” focusing heavily on Rockelle’s story and how what seems like innocent online fame has and will continue to spiral into exploitation if not curbed with proper child protection laws for child-influencers much like child actors. The documentary shines a light on the blurred boundaries between content creation and child labor, parental responsibility, and the price of digital fame.
Alarmingly, there seems to be a surge of kidfluencers again– this time within the Instagram influencer ecosystem. With child creators once again gaining millions of followers and brand deals, one can’t help but wonder—is history repeating itself?
What is “kidfluencing”?
Kidfluencing, in simple terms, refers to kids who partake as social media influencers. These kids can be as young as toddlers and are mostly managed by their parents or moms giving rise to the word “momager”. Kidfluencing is usually conducted via “sharenting”- a blend of ‘share’ and ‘parenting’ where parents share their children’s content on social media choosing what to make public and what not.
It may seem harmless or cute at first, but these practices often violate a child’s right to privacy and can lead to long-term psychological harm, identity issues, or exploitation, especially if the parent seemingly gets swayed by the idea of virality and money— much like in the case of Tiffany Smith.
No legal protection of these child influencers
While in the UK and USA, debates around child-influencer laws are slowly gaining more momentum, its implementation to a level that can actually protect these children remains unsure. The UK’s Online Safety Act and the Children’s Code offer some digital protections, while the USA still lacks specific federal laws regulating kidfluencers—often relying on outdated child labor laws. Shockingly, India has no formal legal framework to govern this space at all.
One major concern is that there’s no proper law mandating parents to set aside a portion of the earnings their children make from brand deals or monetized content. In many cases, parents control the money and may misuse it, similar to early Hollywood's struggles before the Coogan Law protected child actors’ earnings in the US. Child influencers deserve the same recognition, legal safeguards, and financial rights as traditional child actors, but currently, there’s a huge legal and ethical gap.
Recent rise of social media “kidfluencers”
Children have once again started taking over social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok, becoming the centre of a new wave of content creation. Channels like Addie McCracken’s, featuring her young son Rustyn, have gained popularity by documenting wholesome, everyday moments—like Rustyn’s milestones, parent-child bonding, and toddler adventures. The videos are innocent and heartwarming and gain millions of views and likes with edits being made of baby Rustyn, proving there’s a growing demand for “kid reels” that feel genuine and family-friendly.
But not all kinds of kidfluencer content is this hunky-dory. A concerning trend has emerged, especially among young girls, who are now posting Get Ready With Me (GRWM) videos, nighttime skincare, and even preschool makeup routines. These videos, often guided or at least approved by adults, reflect how social media is pushing appearance-focused narratives onto little girls. While platforms already pressure women and girls to prioritise looks, it’s now seeping into early childhood—where self-worth is being shaped around eyeliner and lip gloss rather than play and growth.
Why is it problematic in ways more than one?
Moreover, this also exposes kids to a barrage of online opinions– some positive, many negative but all capable of disrupting and distorting their sense of self and identity. In many cases, these children are even dressed in suggestive, age-inappropriate clothing by the very adults in charge—knowingly placing them under the harsh glare of the male gaze and leaving them vulnerable to predators online. A platform that has already been repeatedly linked to deteriorating mental health in full-grown adults is now being freely accessed by, and used to showcase, toddlers and preteens as young as twelve or thirteen.
What’s even more troubling is the materialisation of childhood where young girls are being introduced to high-end beauty products like Rhode and Ghisou in their so-called preschool makeup routines. These children, who should be learning how to build confidence and creativity, are instead learning to measure their worth through aesthetics and expensive skincare. It’s not just play anymore—it’s product placement, consumerism, and brand conditioning disguised as “fun.”
What’s next?
As the lines between play and profit continue to blur more and more everyday, the resurgence of these kidfluencers have once again demanded urgent global scrutiny. While some content may be harmless, the lack of regulation leaves room for deep emotional, financial and psychological exploitation out of the several other forms.
It is high-time that people start seeing the effect of “influencing” as a profession and the power it has on those who produce and consume it. It’s not mere “sing and dance” for ten seconds anymore, there’s a massive system of strategising, oppressing, branding and creating that operates parallelly and continues to remain unregulated.
Children deserve protection, not platforms that turn them into products. Whether it’s YouTube ten years ago or Instagram today, the risks remain the same—only more disguised. Until laws catch up with the digital age, it’s crucial for platforms, parents, and policymakers to rethink how childhood is being sold, one reel at a time. The innocence of youth should never come at the cost of likes.
(By Archisha Mazumdar)