But We’re Friends Online
Watching streamer videos feels strangely intimate. If you’re unaccustomed to the vlog-style, webcam-based, POV format of streaming, it can feel intrusive to jump right into videos of creators speaking to their audience as if they’re best friends, as if you’re peeking behind a curtain into their private lives. From the comfort of a bedroom desk chair, streamers capitalize on this feeling, building a community of viewers through personality, charisma, interactivity, and engagement. By mimicking a real-time conversation with an audience of ten, thousands, or even millions of viewers, streamers forge relationships with their audience. To the viewer, it feels like they’re hanging out with a buddy in their bedroom, rapping about their favorite video games, listening to music, and spending an afternoon together. But to streamers, with each new viewer logging on, all they see are dollar signs.
Streamers make money by creating parasocial relationships with their followers. Parasocial relationships are similar to those between a celebrity and a fan. In the past, celebrities were more removed from their audiences, appearing only at fancy galas, on the silver screen, or occasionally on talk shows. Twitch, however, has introduced an intimate landscape for celebrities that more closely resembles real-world kinship or a long-distance friendship.
Via u/IvanS
“Parasocial relationships are one-sided psychological bonds between a streamer and a viewer, where the audience feels intimately connected to the broadcaster without the feelings being reciprocated,” says Dr. Alok Kanojia, a psychiatrist who streams on Twitch. “The audience often shares intimate details about their lives and donates small amounts of money to get their attention, [but] to the streamer, the viewers are simply names that rapidly scroll by in the chat box.” Many streamers broadcast live for several hours a day, offering viewers a glimpse into their private lives. Kanojia adds, “Unsurprisingly, when you spend over 12 hours a day with a person, your brain cannot help but form a relationship with them.”
Via u/meme-arsenal
Ultimately, Twitch and other streaming platforms serve as a means for audiences to consume content and for creators to make money. However, when connection, loyalty, and trust are on the line, ethical boundaries can begin to blur. Streamers’ revenue depends on their audiences feeling a connection with them, but do audiences receive any emotional reciprocation from this one-sided relationship?
Dance, Monkey, Dance
Approximately one month ago, the one-way mirror of parasocial streamer relationships shattered. The intentions of streamers and the illusion of a colloquial “friendship” were revealed by well-known Twitch streamer Charlie White, aka moistcr1tikal, when he broadcast his fiscal earnings of millions. To maintain the facade of approachability, the streaming community has long kept quiet about how much money they actually make, as such transparency would likely shatter the foundation of their money-making machine. Like all online content creators, streamers earn money from ad revenue and sponsorships. However, they now have a new monetary avenue to capitalize on: Donations. Streamers commonly accept and encourage these donations, usually in $5, $20, or $30 increments, from working-class audiences in exchange for a live-stream shoutout or some other display of broadcast attention. It may seem illogical that anyone would spend $30 to have their favorite streamer call their name during a live broadcast, but for those clinging to the remnants of a parasocial relationship, they would do just about anything to be validated.
How much money are streamers making by doing this? It turns out it’s a lot… Like a lot, a lot.
At the ripe old age of 31-years-old, Charlie White is one of the grandfathers of YouTube content creation. After launching his channel in 2007 to primarily discuss anime, video games, and Internet culture, he blossomed into the first hugely-popular, vlog-style channel and is now one of the longest-standing Internet influencers online. Despite his life-long career as a content creator and a streamer, White recently gave away the secrets of the grift. He outlined the tactics behind the streamers’ facade and the absurdity of the entire donation system, revealing that streamers' only goal was to make money, not friends. While his claims were simple and somewhat obvious, he was the first to highlight the absurdity of the entire operation, calling attention to the unethical nature of simulating a relationship, the donation scheme, and ultimately the catfishing scam that allows streamers to cash in.
Via u/penguinz0
“You are basically paying money for nothing,” White said in a simple yet profound video in which he critiques Twitch donations. In the video, White urged viewers to donate their money to charitable causes instead and, without further explanation, said he would be disabling the feature on his channel on both YouTube and Twitch. “I just don’t want people to donate money to me anymore,” he added. However, after much confusion and speculation, he created a follow-up video explaining the real reason he did not want any more donations: He already makes too much.
White publicized his financial data from the last ten years, showing that his Twitch revenue not only multiplied his earnings from ads but also lined his pockets far beyond what he could even spend. Through a lucrative ad contract with Twitch, White grossed over $4.1 million over the course of four years by streaming a few hours per day. White says, “I’m not a top streamer and I’m also not even a full-time streamer, and yet this is still a crazy amount of money.”
Via u/penguinz0
“There is no reason I should be taking money from normal people working everyday jobs. It just doesn’t feel right,” White admitted. This moral revelation proved to be a whistleblowing phenomenon, exposing the true top streamers on Twitch, some of the richest content creators in the world. Feeling suddenly betrayed by the entire system, and learning that their favorite streamers were likely earning $50,000 to $100,000 per day, audiences launched a frenzy demanding that every streamer reveal their earnings.
Heartbroken and feeling used, audiences watched Charlie White’s revelation in shock. It was a brutal wake-up call, exposing the smoke and mirrors behind streaming. Viewers may watch a streamer’s content every day, feeling something like a friendship growing between them, but by the end of the stream, they are nothing more than a number on a screen to the celebrity on the other side. Despite donating $10 so their favorite online personality can give them a live shoutout, content creators are not their friends, they do not know who they are, and they never will.
False Idols
Betraying his fellow streamers, the Charlie White drama has revealed the nature of the streamerverse. This knowledge will not stop fans from pursuing content created for their fandom. Parasocial relationships have long been exploited for financial gain on streaming sites, but it is human nature to seek social validation and connection. Despite their artificial nature, for some, even a pseudo-relationship with a public figure, celebrity, or content creator is enough to satisfy social needs. Nuanced, lopsided, and sometimes toxic, these relationships are complex, but in our increasingly online world, they are here to stay.
Some fans prefer to keep the veil over their eyes, believing wholeheartedly that streamers like Felix "xQc" Lengyel and Kai Cenat, who earn an estimated $100,000 every day from streaming, are their true, honest-to-goodness, ride-or-die homies. Yet, streamers and the parasocial connections they sell, might just be the social comfort we need in a world full of loneliness. They provide a port in a storm for wayward internet dwellers who just want to engage and be a part of a greater community.