It has become almost impossible to ignore how quickly the internet has changed the way we decide who to listen to. A decade ago, most people still relied on doctors, academics, or major news outlets whenever they wanted to understand something important. Now millions turn to creators on TikTok or YouTube who may have no formal training at all but feel familiar, open, and easy to trust. It is not that experts have disappeared but that their authority no longer guarantees attention. Algorithms have created a new kind of influence, one driven by personality and emotional connection rather than titles or degrees.
Part of this shift comes from how people relate to creators. A young viewer might watch a medical professional using careful terminology and feel overwhelmed or even judged. Then they open TikTok and find a creator who speaks casually about the same topic, shares personal experiences, and admits when they are unsure. That humility feels honest in a way formal expertise sometimes does not. People are more likely to trust someone who reminds them of themselves, someone who looks and talks like the people in their own lives.
Another part of the shift is the pace of social media. The constant flow of content pushes creators to talk about events the moment they happen. Audiences get immediate reactions, emotional responses, and unfiltered perspectives. Traditional institutions simply cannot move that fast. By the time a newsroom confirms details and prepares a report, creators have already posted multiple updates, answered questions, and built entire narratives. The platforms reward this speed and intimacy. Algorithms push videos that spark emotion because they generate comments and shares, which means the creators who feel the most relatable often rise the fastest.
A clear example of this happened during the early months of the war in Ukraine. Many people around the world did not first learn about the conflict from newspapers or television, but from TikTok videos recorded inside Ukrainian homes and shelters. One of the creators who gained attention was Valeria Shashenok, who documented everyday life during the bombings with a mix of fear, humor, and blunt honesty. Her videos reached millions long before some news outlets finished their segments. People connected with her because she showed something raw and human without waiting for permission or a script.
The rise of creator-based storytelling has real benefits. It brings perspectives that would never make it through traditional gatekeeping. It gives people a sense of community and belonging, especially during frightening events. Many creators use their platforms responsibly, checking their sources and trying to avoid spreading confusion. Their work has helped humanize global events that might otherwise feel distant and abstract.
But some risks come with this new kind of influence. Without editors, fact-checkers, or any kind of oversight, some creators share information too quickly or interpret events without enough context. Even honest mistakes travel far on platforms built for speed. A single misinterpreted clip can send millions into panic before the facts appear. This does not mean creators are untrustworthy, only that the system they work within rewards immediacy more than accuracy. It is easy for audiences to forget that someone speaking confidently on camera might not be any more knowledgeable than they are.
Experts still matter, perhaps more than ever, but their communication style often feels distant in comparison. Many institutions speak in cautious, technical language that struggles to compete with the relatable tone of creators. If traditional experts want to rebuild trust, they may need to become more present on the platforms where people spend their time, speak more simply, and be more willing to show the human side of expertise. When experts share not just what they know but why they care, audiences respond more warmly.
The future of public trust probably will not belong exclusively to creators or to experts but to a blend of the two. People want accuracy, but they also want connection. They want someone who understands the facts, but they also want someone who understands their fears. When creators bring authenticity, and experts bring depth, both sides can complement each other. More importantly, audiences can become more thoughtful about how they consume information instead of relying on algorithms to decide what they see.
This shift in trust is not the end of expertise but a reminder that expertise must evolve. People no longer listen simply because someone holds a prestigious title. They listen when they feel seen, heard, and understood. In a world overflowing with information, relatability has become its own kind of authority, and our challenge is to make sure it works alongside traditional knowledge rather than against it.
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