Rise of the Amateurs
Understanding the appeal of ascendant amateurism
Two weeks ago, China passed a new law requiring online “influencers” to have a formal credentials in order to discuss certain serious topics like medicine, law, finance and education.
In America, well, let’s just say things are moving in the opposite direction.
Carl Trueman recently ruffled feathers in a First Things article when he observed how “Big Eva” (a term he coined years ago to describe an evangelical culture heavily shaped by celebrity pastors and influential conferences) has given way to “Gig Eva”—a world in which anyone with an online platform can potentially be a formative Christian voice.
Being “big time” in Big Eva generally required some kind of credentials, well-established ministry experience or highly regarded publications. In Gig Eva, no such indicators of competence are required. Indeed, Gig Eva is largely dominated by “amateur pastors” and parishioners.
I suspect people have mixed feelings about Gig Eva as an emerging phenomenon within the church. But it’s important to recognize that Gig Eva is just a symptom of a much broader cultural trend—and Trueman briefly nods to this reality.
The shift toward amateurism in culture at large has been slowly growing for at least three decades and shows no sign of slowing down. Celebrity sex tapes, Pornhub, and now OnlyFans trace just one such progression. People have turned away from “professional” news media and commentary in droves, opting instead for the voices of independent publications—or the just the sober-minded “girl or guy next door” giving thoughtful reporting or analysis.
Public health professionals have lost credibility in the wake of their disastrous handling of COVID-19. In their place has arisen a host of online medical, health, and wellness consultants—united less by their wellness expertise than by their hatred of Big Pharma and Robert Fauci. Certified personal trainers now compete with online “fitness influencers” who film their workouts and divulge their best practices for the benefit of their online audiences. Ordinary couples who believe themselves to have exemplary marriages attract massive followings with short-form videos and online courses reserved for those bold enough to type “#savemymarriage” in the comments.
We could go on.
Some of it’s good, some of it’s terrible—but either way, amateurism is an ascendant force to be reckoned with. And it's here to stay.
Why Amateurism Appeals
Regardless of how one feels about the rise of amateurism, it’s important to understand its appeal.
From the standpoint of creating content, the primary reasons are fairly straightforward as I see them: economic opportunity, creative outlet, personal affirmation and the chance to be influential by gaining a following.
Outside of a fawning for personal affirmation, none of these motivations are necessarily problematic. Many content creators are genuinely talented or knowledgeable and know they have something valuable to offer for public consumption. People who film themselves shopping for groceries? No so much. Having said that, amateur entertainment requiring little to no talent—like watching a good parking lot scrap instead of a UFC fight—has always had wide appeal.
Still, I’d like to focus on why amateurism is so compelling for consumers, not creators. While the sheer amount and diversity of content defy neat classification, amateurism’s appeal can be explained, I believe, by a yearning for two things: trust and authenticity.
Trust
Largely owing to a steady rise in skepticism toward higher education on the political right, amateurs now gain unprecedented public trust because they haven’t been “infected” by universities and their supposed brainwashing agendas. This is especially true in the humanities—STEM fields have fared much better.
Being educated once set a person apart in a positive way. Increasingly, however, a degree is seen as an advertisement for how much exposure one has had to intellectual idiocy disguised as knowledge.
Among many conservatives, not going to college has become a badge of honor—a validation of one’s cognitive purity. It is the uneducated, not the educated, who hold the unpolluted common sense necessary to be the voices of reason in a culture gone mad.
Amateurs are not merely tolerated; they are celebrated.
This intuition is one of the driving forces behind those who see Gig Eva as a welcome development in church culture. The professionals and established ministry folks failed us during COVID-19 and in response to BLM, the thinking goes. We need common-sense voices uncorrupted by seminary-inculcated tendencies to be “nuanced,” “winsome,” and eager to appease the left while policing the right.
This skepticism toward higher education and its products is merely one example of a more general mistrust of “elites.” We also crave non-politicians in politics, for example, so that the “swamp” might finally be drained. We’re not looking for Thomas Jeffersons anymore—bartenders from Manhattan will apparently do just fine.
Amateurs earn initial trust not because of their books, careers, credentials, or IQs, but because they seem pure, passionate, and untouched by institutional defilement.
Another reason amateurs earn trust is their ability to build personal rapport with audiences. This often happens through comment sections, reply videos, and live chats.
One’s chances of personally interacting with Jordan Peterson or Sam Harris are slim. But with John Dixon and Tina Jones? Much higher. Even a simple “like” or short reply can make a follower feel seen.
In a disconnected world, that kind of interaction builds both respect and likeability—two factors tightly linked to persuasiveness. Research confirms that we’re more likely to believe people we like than those we perceive as arrogant, regardless of credentials.
Creators who frequently and personally engage with their base often build trust that goes beyond fandom—it turns audiences into loyal followers, open to being shaped and led.
The importance of trust in understanding the rise of amateurism cannot be overstated, and is only eclipsed by authenticity.
Authenticity
Authenticity is the single most powerful driver of amateur content consumption.
Take pornography, for example (no, I don’t watch it, nor can I remember the last time I saw it—and I have a strong memory).
The rise of amateur porn was made possible by technological developments like home video cameras in the 1980s and, later, smartphones—but the demand for it was driven by the desire to see “authentic” sex.
Playboy and Hustler quickly became irrelevant with the advent of the internet, which then created new demand for professionally produced sex videos. But anyone who’s ever had sex realized those productions were about as realistic as the Titans winning the Super Bowl. The demand began to shift.
The bottom line is that many people are utterly compelled by the prospect of watching sexual interactions between attractive, normal people who could be their neighbors or co-workers. They desire to witness actual sexual performances and thus, what they might realistically hope to experience themselves one day. The IKEA decorations and crooked lampshade in the background scream “authenticity”—and perhaps, achievability—over and against the performances of paid professionals in a studio. The allure of being a fly on the wall watching real people have real sex is tantalizing.
Professional porn hasn’t disappeared, but the giants that have emerged alongside it—Pornhub and, more recently, OnlyFans—cater directly to the craving for “real” sex. According to Semrush, Pornhub ranks as the eighth most-visited site in the world. Moreover, in 2023, “Amateur” was the most searched porn category, accounting for about 70% of all online porn content.
People crave authenticity, and amateurs producing all kinds of content—sexual or otherwise—are perfectly suited to deliver the raw, unpolished and “real.”
Beyond pornography, amateurs are often perceived as free from the agendas that constrain professionals. Unlike those beholden to sponsors, organizations, and PR departments, amateurs are seen as truth-tellers—people with nothing to lose.
They can “keep it real” without fear of HR policies or corporate optics. That freedom gives them credibility and edge. It’s likely not an overstatement to say that authenticity is more appealing to many people than truthfulness. We crave raw expression—even when it’s misguided—because it feels viscerally human.
Experts and professionals, by contrast, often seem neutered by institutional caution. Influencers are obviously not completely free from influence themselves, but at least in their early stages, they’re largely free from the accountability and bureaucratic constraints that make many professionals careful and dull.
Finally, while amateurs may have strong political leanings—and indeed may produce political content—amateurs are not constrained by the political agendas of professional production companies or corporate America. For example, when race relations were the primary topic of social ethics in the wake of George Floyd’s murder and the Black Lives Matter movement, College Gameday (ESPN’s flagship pre-game show on Saturday mornings in the Fall) spent meaningful time discussing racism and how it affected black athletes.
You might think that football pundits aren’t the best candidates to unpack the structure of racism in America, but ESPN decided it had to play their part in the racial dialogue in between talking about quarterbacks and fired coaches. To simply focus on football seemed tone deaf. Other sports talk shows did the same.
Amateur sports commentators, on the other hand, conduct(ed) their analyses under no such burden. They—along with their colleagues in other fields—enjoy the freedom to be unapologetically narrow in their commentary and subject matter analysis. They feel no need to help shepherd the world through social issues or keep the optics politically shiny. For many (most?) people, this is a breath of fresh air.
Amateurism, therefore, frees content creators to be purists—avoiding mission creep— which not only increases their perceived authenticity but also gives their followers exactly what they want (and nothing more).
The Takeaway
There are other reasons amateurs are rising, but the foundational reason flowing out of the last decade or so is a yearning for trust and authenticity. This yearning is coupled with the conviction that amateurs often deliver on these desideratum better than the credentialed or professionals.
You don’t have to like the rise of amateurism—but you should definitely understand its wide appeal. You should also be careful not to throw the baby out with the bathwater in observing the trend—there's plenty to be thankful for. Experts and professionals aren’t going anywhere, but social media has ensured that the unprecedented prominence of amateur influence is here to stay.
May our patience be great and our discernment be sharp.