I’ve been thinking about the future of social media lately. I feel in my gut that something is about to change—something big. 

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Platforms today feel less social and more business—and I’m no exception. I first opened Instagram at 18, then dropped it for a decade. I only returned last year, not to socialise, but to build an audience. As a writer who wants to live from writing, I needed visibility.

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Bookstores are overflowing, the internet is worse: endless blogs, e-books, newsletters, journals. It feels like there are a million writers for every ten readers. So, like many, I joined Instagram, TikTok, Substack, and Medium to share my work—and yes, maybe earn a few dollars in the process. 

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But here’s the thing: I barely use these platforms socially. I check in to monitor growth, not to scroll. 

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Around me, it’s the same—my partner, my mother, my sister, my friends. Everyone’s becoming an influencer. Have you noticed? Once people realised you could make money, get free dinners, or receive clothes from your favourite brand just by posting, social media turned into a fiercely competitive market. And let’s be honest—we all think we’re special, that we have something worth showing, something people will love. Deep down, most of us believe we could do it better than the influencers we follow.

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So if we’re no longer using these platforms to actually socialise, what are they now?

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Instagram has become a marketplace of sameness—the influencer life isn’t that appealing anymore. The travel pics, the gym bodies, the healthy recipes—they all blur into one endless scroll. Art critics are everywhere. Psychologists give therapy through posts. And business gurus give advice on how to give advice so others can make money giving advice, just like they do. You see where this is going…

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TikTok is now more of a search engine than anything else. Want to make matcha or train a camel? You know where to look. X is mostly abandoned. Threads is aesthetic-first, soul-later. YouTube your classroom. And Snapchat… I think it died with my generation, though I hear it’s coming back.

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Now, the first phenomenon I identify is simple: there’s a growing wave of people making content, and fewer and fewer consuming it. Most of us who want to be seen are too busy doing that to actually see others. Again, just like with books—millions of writers for a handful of readers.

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And then there’s the second, the elephant in the room: AI. Every day it gets better. In no time, it’ll be impossible to tell whether an image of me in Paris is real or generated. What happens then? Fake profiles of fake men, with perfect fake bodies, travelling the world in fake jets, with fake models—and just like that, the grotesque Dan Bilzerian is out of a job.

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But then, what’s going to happen? Here’s my prediction:

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When something becomes too available, too free, too repetitive… it loses value. What comes next is exclusivity.

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Soon, you won’t be able to just click and follow your favourite influencer. First, you’ll have to be accepted; some creators will be casual about it, others will require applications. They’ll review your profile and decide whether you’re worth the access. If you’re accepted, you’ll feel chosen. It will feel intimate. You’ll think: I’m in. But, of course, you’ll have to pay, not just to watch, but to belong.

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And it’ll feel good.

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You’ll have access to their now private world—that which not everyone gets to see. And because it’s hidden from others, it will feel special. Not like now, where you’re one in millions following the Kardashians while pretending there’s something personal happening. You know there isn’t—it’s a brand talking to you, not a person.

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That’s how content creators will stay relevant—not by increasing production, but by offering more of their private world. A door slightly open.

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But it doesn’t stop there.

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Yes, AI avatars will look exactly like people. Yes, they’ll talk. And yes, some will fall in love with them, marry them, raise AI children, take AI vacations. But for the rest of us, AI will still feel fake.  Something’s missing. It’s too perfect, too polished. It’s cold. But it will be all over the place in no time. It will surround us. 

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And so, to escape the tech nightmare, we’ll start to crave what’s real, what’s human. Slowly, back to basics. 

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We’ll want to see real people walking to the store. Reading a book. Cooking. Sleeping. All the quiet, uneventful things that make life what it is. But by then, sharing that won’t be enough. Pictures won’t do it. Stories won’t do it. We’ll want more.

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The next phase of content will be live, uninterrupted, continuous.

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Influencers will live inside their own broadcasts. Cameras and microphones installed throughout their homes. Not edited. Not curated. Always on.

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We’ll no longer want a photo of Cristiano Ronaldo on a yacht—we’ll want to watch him in his home gym while we eat lunch. We’ll want to see Taylor Swift in her living room watching Netflix, while we lie in bed watching her on our own TV. We’ll want to check in on Sundays to see who’s coming over to the Biebers’ house for lunch, and whether Justin prays before eating or if it’s just Hailey.

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Why? Because we’ll want to know they’re real. Just like us.

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We’ll want to see how the influencers we follow argue with their partners. What books they pretend to read. What brand of toothpaste they use. And how they do absolutely nothing at all. Because that kind of access will feel like intimacy, and in a world of fabrications, intimacy will be the ultimate currency.

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And yes, of course, this will have its “other” side.

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You’ll get access to the living room, the kitchen, maybe the gym—for a basic monthly fee. Want to see the bedroom? You’ll pay more. Want access to the bathroom? The shower? You’ll pay even more.

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The explicit content will be blurred—unless, of course, you are a premium subscriber.

And then you’ll be able to watch that man you quietly desire undress and step into the shower. You’ll see that model you follow making love to her husband. Not in the high-definition, over-lit style of pornography. But simply, awkwardly, quietly—like people do. In soft light. In real time.

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I know how this sounds… 

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But why pretend it isn’t coming? Or, is it already here?