Influencers and their virtue signaling obsession
Jewyz Ann Bunyi
Issues here, issues there, and we’re still not yet halfway through 2023. This year’s starting point gives us the same old influencers and their usual pattern of addressing such issues that can make one’s eyes roll — slapping virtue signaling as a quick cover-up to save faces.
Virtue signaling is defined as the “attempt to show other people that you are a good person.” It is a derogatory expression for people who are just strutting their stuff as if they deserve a medal for putting themselves in a good light.
But let’s get this straight: none of us have complete knowledge of another person’s true intentions, even our own. We do the wrong things for just reasons and vice versa. Admit it or not, we simply find ourselves jibber-jabbering excuses that don’t make sense. And living in the Philippines, where most of us can be deeply warmed up by Bible verses, compelling backstories, and hedonistic pities, virtue signaling is an overused technique to avoid taking responsibility and acknowledging what went horribly wrong when problems arise.
A God-orchestrated fiasco for growth?
Birthdays are never complete without a cake as the main attraction, and for Alex Gonzaga, a TV personality known for her mischievous character, a simple birthday cake is God’s instrument for her most-awaited character development. During her advanced birthday party, all was great and fun, not until she blew her candles and smeared chocolate icing on a service crew’s forehead. At that moment, Kuya Allan, the waiter, could only watch everyone fill the room with laughter because of Gonzaga’s insensitive ploy.
Criticisms towards Gonzaga flocked, and so much damage control had to be done, considering that her sister’s “sold out” concert was only a few days away. Days later, Gonzaga apologized. She also sought forgiveness from her family, assuring them that she would rise up as a wiser and better person. The bottom line: her non-apology revolved around her rather than the person she caused humiliation.
What added fuel to the fire was when she let Kuya Allan write a confirmation letter with his signature. Looking at it closely gave the impression that Gonzaga wanted to clear her name as swiftly as possible, and confirmation of apology from her victim would appease the public that she knew her fault. Yet, her apology backfired when she and her sister made fun of the issue during the latter’s anniversary concert. She even used the issue as a punchline by giving her father a “tinapay” cake on his birthday.
Gonzaga’s action in addressing the issue illuminated her fatalistic belief that everything was already laid out for her growth — a free pass that prevented her from being accountable for the underlying points she had caused: from smearing icing on Kuya Allan and even after the issue dried out.
As Filipinos with thriving religious beliefs and strong faith, we are easily enticed by this Christianized narrative of virtue signaling. To justify offensive actions and insensitive behaviors, one would use God’s name to lessen the brunt, spewing half-hearted apologies just to keep the waters from boiling over. Mentioning God’s leniency and the Bible in an apology leaves the other party no choice but to forgive since doing otherwise would picture them as the anti-hero with no sense of mercy. Not to mention the power dynamics between Gonzaga and Kuya Allan, Gonzaga flawlessly made a drastic turn to bring herself to a good angle with her self-absorbed “God taught me a lesson” sentiment.
No amount of Christianized notions should justify her lack of human decency.
Milking sympathy for clout
Pathos has been long utilized as a defensive measure against onslaughts of criticism. We’ve seen it on our favorite kakaibabe Donnalyn Bartolome and Ella Cruz and we’re likely to see it again.
Birthdays often seem to be the root of problems like these since, just like Gonzaga, Bartolome also had hers when she posted a sensual baby-themed photoshoot for her 28th birthday. While I commend her for her thoughtful demonstration of a proper apology, she reverted back (again) as an entitled influencer who just loves to sashay her feats with her toxic “back to work” remark and kanto-themed birthday bash that both induced toxic positivity in order to feel relatable. And for her February entry, she downgraded herself on a Facebook comment while complimenting pregnant women, which sounded off and more like backhanded praise. Hope she knows that not every conversation requires her to open her mouth.
By exploiting relatability as leverage and blatantly oversimplifying the struggles of the ordinary masses, Bartolome has a remarkable knack for getting under our skin before slipping empty platitudes and excuses under the veil of her own life experience intended to motivate us. She wanted to reminisce those moments, but she failed to notice how it served as a selfish justification. Pretending to be poor made her seen as humble, while others who couldn’t offer food on their table were stigmatized. Poverty and toxic working conditions in this country eventually turned into a social currency for views and “positive vibes.” Her heroic tales neglect to include the aspect of privilege that most people just seem to disregard.
As for Cruz, who drew flak for her “history is like tsismis” faux pas last year, she surely knew how to invoke emotions for sympathy. Coming from a person who starred in a film about historical denialism, it’s not surprising to hear her say those exact words. While citizens and even historians like Ambeth Ocampo and Xiao Chua enlightened her, she, unfortunately, swept everything under the rug, thinking that everyone was teaming up against her.
With overflowing criticisms thrown at her (most of which were constructive), she should have realized the density of her words that inflicted pain on the victims of Martial Law, historians, and history itself. The fact that she cried, never apologized, and stood firm by her words spoke volumes — she was way too focused on her own pain that she overlooked others’.
The world doesn’t revolve around you, honey
The overused recipe of these influencers gives us the main character energy they eagerly want to radiate. It’s always about them and never about the people they hurt. We are all humans who make mistakes. Nobody is perfect. Fair point. But the way we put ourselves accountable for our actions speaks a lot about character. Virtue signaling our way to forgiveness dishonors our apology while also depriving justice for those we have caused pain. This should have been long gone. It’s time for us to know how to properly apologize by admitting our faults and sincerely reflecting on them.
Unfortunately, most influencers develop a superiority complex when someone calls them out, as if they were a helpless damsel, and the world would come crashing down when no one took their side. As citizens who recognize their mistakes, let’s seek accountability from them critically without stating below the belt and ad hominem remarks.
Masking their mistakes with personal attacks gives them the platform to move from one issue to another, making the case more personal than logical. We have this widespread cancel culture, and it stems from a good intention of pushing them to have their character development moment. If they’re only going in circles, then they don’t deserve their respective platforms.
Using virtue signaling is limited in its effectiveness when faced with criticism. If it’s their ego that speaks for themselves or perhaps the intention to gain clout, it’s still for naught. Their motives must be pure, and they regret what they did without putting on a show in order to feel righteous. Apology and accountability both go hand-in-hand. If one of them grips way too loose, they both lose their essence.
