To be clear, pills like these are still on the market. Victoria Szamreta, an online coach with a degree in nutrition and professional certifications in personal training and nutrition, explains how she sees the ramifications of these products on a daily basis:

“A lot of my clients have done previous diets before, and their metabolism is so broken from it because these things are presented as really good for you, but they don’t state the long-term effects that they’re going to have on your body. So, for instance, one of my clients took a weight loss pill like a long time ago. Actually, a couple of years ago. And since working with me, she’s discovered all sorts of metabolic issues that we’ve been trying to repair together. So, I would say coming out of these things is the worst thing. For your body and mentality.” 

The reason diet and ‘nutrition’ supplements still exist in the market is one of nuance. Supplements are regulated, in part, by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) (the FDA shares the responsibility with the FTC). Supplements are sorted out from drugs by the advertised purpose of the product. If a product is advertised to cure a disease, it’s considered a drug. If it’s advertised to somehow support the general functioning of the body, it’s considered a supplement. 

The alarm bells are probably already ringing in your head. 

Because the distinction rests on how a product is advertised, companies are able to choose whether to advertise their product as a drug or as a supplement. Basically, we allow companies to choose which marketing scheme should apply to their products. To be sure, this is a massive distinction. Whereas drugs need to undergo a strict system of FDA approval, supplements are essentially able to make any claim they want about the use of their product, so long as it is not found to be false or misleading by the FTC or FDA. To make matters worse, so long as supplements include the language “this statement has not been evaluated by the FDA. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease,” the makers are exempt from the FDA’s authority.  

The supplement industry has also been uniquely active in challenging regulation by the FDA on First Amendment grounds—much more so than drug companies or other similar industries. In a case called Alliance for Natural Health v. Selibius, for example, the District Court of D.C. basically said that the FDA cannot reject a product claim if there is significant scientific uncertainty about its truthfulness. One of the claims the FDA rejected, for example, was that the supplement had an “effect” on “certain cancers”—a claim which was unsubstantiated and did not even mention which cancers would be affected. And yet, the court overturned the FDA’s rejection. The thought is that rejecting product claims will infringe on the maker’s First Amendment rights. The court went as far as to emphasize the preferability of disclaimers over product regulation—even though it has already been well-established that disclaimers are ineffective at overcoming initial impressions from an advertisement.

The FTC, in sharing jurisdiction with the FDA, is still making a strong attempt to reign in these false claims. To promote better efficacy of disclaimers in advertising, the FTC has established the “4Ps” of fair disclaimers: prominence, presentation, placement, and proximity. Taken together, this framework means that the disclaimer needs to be (1) clearly legible (not obscured with tiny font or difficult-to-discern colors); (2) easily readable (written in clear language); (3) somewhere the viewer will actually see it (not at the bottom corner of the screen); and (4) near to the main “claim” it’s modifying (not just at the very bottom of a page or post). What’s more, for a disclaimer to be valid, the company using one (theoretically) must overcome a presumption of inefficacy.

Photo by NordWood Themes on Unsplash

None of this, though, clearly applies to Instagram influencers. Are influencers, who may be people using their personal accounts that just so happened to skyrocket to fame, really advertisers? Are they themselves the advertisement? Or are they just a person trying to provide their two cents on nutrition, fitness, products, etc., who happen to be making money by doing so? 

Therein lies the problem. 

The catch-22 of social media is something Danielle encounters in her daily life: “I think that social media is like a double-edged sword because I think that there are a lot of genuinely good people who just like, literally want to help and like spread knowledge and spread awareness. But I think that, depending on the person that’s willing to receive that information, they can also feel overwhelmed by it, and that can kind of send them into like a negative cascade. Whereas there are other people on social media who are not genuine people and are just gimmicky.”

According to the FTC social media guidelines, influencers are required to disclose that they have a “material connection” with the brand they’re promoting. As within the context of traditional advertising, the disclosures must be easy to see and understand, placed where it’s hard to miss, etc. The FTC even goes so far as to outline specific methods for disclosure, such as recommending that “[i[f your endorsement is in a picture on a platform like Snapchat and Instagram Stories, superimpose the disclosure over the picture and make sure viewers have enough time to notice and read it.” Let that sink in for a minute. Is that clear?

Think of an Instagram reel featuring an influencer’s post-workout smoothie routine. She’s talking into the camera, just chatting as if she’s Facetiming a friend. The reel includes text with the list of ingredients:

½ banana

1 cup blueberries

½ cup milk

1 scoop @ghostlifestyle protein powder

1 tablespoon peanut butter

Is that influencer sponsored by anyone? Imagine the milk is clearly Fairlife brand milk. She shows you her favorite flavor of Ghost whey protein. The blueberries are clearly from Trader Joe’s, the peanut butter is Jif, and the banana is just a banana. Are any of these endorsements? If so, are they properly disclosed? 

My personal hunch would be that she is sponsored by Ghost and has a commissionable link for the brand in her Instagram bio. Maybe she even tags @ghostlifestyle in her bio, likely paired with an apparel company that sponsors her. The other items pictured are just the products she bought at the grocery store. But does tagging Ghost meet the FTC’s disclosure requirement? 

To make matters even more complex, many people who are just beginning their fitness and nutrition journeys rely on influencers for the background information they need to succeed. As Danielle explains:

“It’s so tricky because I used to literally use Instagram swipe videos or reels, for my workouts when I was, I don’t know, 22, 23? I also would, you know, follow the silly little workouts that people did that swore that it would either make my arms smaller or make my booty bigger. Like I’ve done all that too. So, I almost want to say it’s a rite of passage. The more you know, the more you know—the more that you’ll be able to see kind of through the bullshit.”

You feel like they know what they’re talking about, or they actually give you quality information. And then they all of a sudden start working with this company and you’re like ‘but that company promotes like what you are against!’

As Danielle notes, it’s ciphering through the different messages, brands, coaches, influencers, etc. that can create the trouble for beginners entering the space. This is especially true as it applies to the FTC disclosure guidelines. Should there be a clear standard designating paid advertisements from unpaid product recommendations, the understanding may be a bit clearer. As Danielle continues, it is often hard to tell whether a product recommendation is genuine, or if it’s just a ploy to gain more financing for influencers’ individual brands: 

“I feel like there’s a lot of times where there are people that you feel like … are dependable. You feel like they know what they’re talking about, or they actually give you quality information. And then they all of a sudden start working with this company and you’re like ‘but that company promotes like what you are against!’ [For example], someone who says they live a holistic life or are very ingredient conscious or whatever. And then they start working with like a protein company [that has] ingredients that go against what is considered clean or healthy and you’re like, ‘are you just getting the bag, like, why? Where is where is your [integrity]?’”

To be sure, advertising with often unattainable standards isn’t exclusive to social media. Traditional media has received criticism for perpetuating unrealistic beauty standards in recent years and, hopefully, has begun to change their practice. The problem, though, is that social media makes it significantly harder to discern what’s real from what isn’t. As D’Amore Mental Health explains, “[i]t can be difficult to determine if a person has altered their appearance if you just see them on social media. All you’re seeing is a beautiful, 2-dimensional image of someone’s seemingly perfect aesthetic.” For someone already suffering with perceived flaws in their appearance, this will be incredibly triggering. Because “[t]heir feed may be full of people looking “perfect,” which can be a constant reminder of their perceived flaws,” social media use can then lead to compulsive actions they believe will remedy the situation. When that remedy is being promoted alongside the image of a “perfect” social media influencer, the results are endless. 

Because “[t]heir feed may be full of people looking “perfect,” which can be a constant reminder of their perceived flaws,” social media use can then lead to compulsive actions they believe will remedy the situation.

Companies take advantage of this uncharted territory. The combination of ambiguity around advertising regulations for influencers, as well as the bond that people feel towards influencers they follow, provide the perfect outlet for companies looking to establish a brand connection within the market. By sponsoring influencers—giving them free stuff, commissionable links, etc.—companies are able to skirt the (already limited) advertising regulations in place and establish a sense of trust among consumers without having to run their own ad campaigns. Victoria summarized how she sees this effect metastasizing across her clients: 

“[Influencers] present [products] as correct, and the more people see them on social media, yes, the more fancy they are, the more people want to do them because they’re like this is a trend. You know, like if they see them on a website or an infomercial, they’re not going to be like, ‘yeah, let me jump on that.’ But if they see a bunch of influencers doing it and they see people advertising it on Instagram, yes, they’re definitely going to try it. So, I would say 9 times out of 10, that’s usually the people that come to me is people have tried all these like fancy things, these weight loss teas or shakes.” 

If they see a bunch of influencers doing it and they see people advertising it on Instagram, yes, they’re definitely going to try it. So, I would say 9 times out of 10, that’s usually the people that come to me.

The sheer number of people who have encountered diet remedies on social media that actually harmed their bodies or their mental health is astonishing. And yet, it’s not all that surprising. Various studies on adolescents have found that the problem buildings on itself: the more people use image-focused media, the more likely they are to talk about their image with their peers. What’s more, people are also then increasingly likely to “exchange feedback” on each other’s appearances. When they discuss the appearance standards set by the media with their peers, these falsified beauty standards become internalized, making them more personal and thus more impactful. This feedback, of course, can also come in the form of likes and comments on social media posts. Thus, the harm of social media snowballs from itself, creating a never-ending feedback loop. 

Photo by Михаил Секацкий on Unsplash

In a 2019 study, researchers found that social media can have drastic effects on one’s dissatisfaction with their appearance. Compared to a control of 1-3 hours of daily social media use, researchers tested various intervals of daily use to the frequency of mental health struggles in adolescents. For those who spent between 3 to 5 hours on social media each day, the frequency of depressive symptoms jumped up 26%. For those spending 5 hours or more on social media, the frequency jumped up 50%. 

Social media is designed to keep your attention, even if it is harming your wellbeing. By capitalizing on attention, memory, and social cognition, social media is able to “constantly sustain[] our attention, even when there is nothing to see.” What’s more, the habit of checking social media displays behavioral reinforcement, meaning that when someone checks it, they receive an instant sense of gratification, and is thus more inclined to continue checking it. For those suffering with anxiety disorders such as body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) or obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), this behavior of “checking” is one that is already hard-wired. Thus, they find themselves continuously checking the platform that also triggers their symptoms: “[s]ince the rewards found online (i.e. amount of likes and comments) are easily measurable, someone with BDD might engage in more social comparison online.” Thus, though those struggling with BDD are more directly harmed by social media use, “[r]esearchers believe that individuals with BDD tend to be more involved with social media, specifically Instagram and Snapchat.” 

BDD is of course only one example of a harm worsened by the rise of social media and, especially, advertising on social media. When you take, then, the addictive nature of social media and combine it with the opportunity to advertise with severely less regulation, the attraction for supplement companies becomes incredibly strong. They have an incredibly captive audience, a large swath of whom is already struggling with their self-image, to whom they can sell a product that claims to cure their insecurities with almost no regulation and virtually no required proof of efficacy. Better yet, they can sell the product through real people who can appeal to their audience in their own language and their own corner of the world. 

If you ask them, though, they’re not manipulating advertising regulations. Nay, they’re not even selling you a product. 

They’re selling you hope.