Uneducated Advice: Should There Be Some Kind of System to Hold Influencers Accountable?

I’m a true Chamberlain. I’ve been a Chamberlain since before scrunchies and blue plaid Brandy Melville skirts were canceled. Yes, that long. I started watching Emma back in 2017 when she uploaded her first YouTube video, and in recent years, I’ve moved over to her podcast Anything Goes, where she shares unfiltered thoughts on everything from fashion, burnouts, ambitions, coffee, and mental health. She talks like a friend, or maybe more like an older sister.

Emma Chamberlain is without a doubt one of the biggest influencers in the world. She’s worked with brands like Cartier and Vogue, launched her own coffee company, and built a multi-platform empire from scratch. And let’s not pretend she wasn’t the one who made everyone obsessed with CeraVe! She’s also known for switching up her style like crazy, even Lady Gaga might want to take notes. With 14.8 million followers on Instagram and 12.1 million on YouTube, her influence is massive. I started wondering: what is it that makes Emma Chamberlain someone people genuinely want to follow? And I realized part of it is that her advice sounds expert. Like something you'd hear from a professional. But here’s the thing: she doesn’t have a degree or any certification beyond high school. Does that matter? Should it?

I had a conversation with my dad about this the other night. Okay, more like a debate. We were sitting at the dinner table; Spanish meatballs, rice, and a salad with pickled papayas made by mom. She sat in the middle, just trying to eat her food in peace. Not easy when both me and my dad don't understand the difference between being engaged and being combative. I don’t remember how the discussion started, but I do remember him saying:

“I hate bloggers.”

I shot back. Half-joking:

“What about me? I’m a wannabe blogger.”

He said:

“Yeah, but you don’t give health advice.”

His tone. Not so joking.

I tried to explain that blogging and influencing have changed. It’s not all kale smoothies and miracle herbs for “reducing cellulite” anymore. Influencers talk about everything now. Yes, even airplanes, Dad. But I understood who he was really pointing to: Belle Gibson. The Australian wellness influencer who gained massive fame in the early 2010s by claiming she had cured her terminal brain cancer through clean eating. Turned out, it was all a lie. She never really had cancer. However, people believed her, followed her advice, skipped medical treatment, and some paid the price. Gibson’s influence came not from education or credentials, but from a pretty Instagram feed and a confident voice. So, if anyone with a ring light and charm can say anything online, how are we supposed to know what’s true?

Should there be a system to hold influencers accountable?

In my opinion... Yes.

I’m not saying every travel blogger needs a degree in tourism. But if you’re giving advice on health and nutrition? Money? Therapy? Legal matters? I feel like it should be something. Like a mark or verified label that says: “This person is qualified.” If you’ve seen those weird AI-generated cat videos floating around on Instagram (don’t ask if you haven’t), you might’ve noticed that Instagram now labels them as AI-generated. Why not do something similar for expertise? Is the advice coming from lived experience, certified knowledge, or just pure opinion?

If it were up to me, I’d make a rule: once you hit 10,000 followers, you should be required to verify your area of expertise. If you can’t? You don’t grow past 10k. Simple. And if you still want to grow? You go get the credentials to support what you’re posting about. If qualified, a badge will appear on your profile, much like the "category" feature in your Instagram bio. Also, for every new tier of followers (10k, 20k, 100k), each platform should require a short ethics or “influencer impact” course. It could pop up right on your screen, just to remind you how many people your content actually affects. We already do this in real life. You can’t be a personal trainer without certification, and you can’t teach in a school without a degree. My idea might not be perfect, but it’s a thought.

I can’t see this issue getting any better either. We’re a generation literally raised on content. Gen Z doesn’t consume traditional news the way our parents did. We don’t read the paper or watch the evening news. We scroll through 15-second Reels and ask ChatGPT to explain the world to us. Disagree if you want, but prove me wrong. And if that’s where we are now, just imagine where Gen Alpha is headed. The kids born between 2010 and 2025. They’re growing up in a world where influencers are more important than journalists. For them, this isn’t strange, it’s normal.

Sure, one can always argue that social media has created new and nontraditional paths to success, especially for those who can’t afford higher education or those who thrive on that kind of creativity. That's totally valid. However, it's simply not my point for this essay.

Emma Chamberlain was the first person I ever heard use the phrase “uneducated advice.” Now I’ve kind of adopted it myself. I heard it on her podcast, which, by the way, I do recommend, even though she doesn’t have a college degree. And to her credit, she’s always been upfront about that. She doesn’t claim to be a therapist, a doctor, or an expert in general. She stays in her lane. Not every influencer is that self-aware. That’s exactly why I believe we need some sort of system. A new set of digital guidelines to protect people from influencers who don’t know where their lane is.

Vote for me as president! Just kidding.