Certain corners of the internet that many of us didn’t even realize existed until 48 hours ago waited with bated breath for the long-hyped 7,000-word exposé against Caroline Calloway, a C-list “influencer.” “Influencer,” of course, is the modern fun way to describe an unemployed person with an Instagram account.
It turns out that the only scandal of the story is that the Cut, the fluffy female online offshoot of the supposedly austere New York magazine, published such a piece at all.
The piece, written by Calloway’s former friend and current nobody Natalie Beach, is more a screed than actual story. Beach spends about 3,000 words detailing how she helped Calloway write captions on her burgeoning Instagram account. Beach helped Calloway eventually land a successful book proposal about her fairly typical 20-something adventures. Another 3,000 words are dedicated to Calloway’s Adderall-fueled meltdown, which ultimately kills her book deal and thus their friendship. There’s about another 1,000 words sprinkled throughout of Beach lamenting that she can’t score a date and whining that Calloway was prettier than her, and I quote, “wore cashmere sweaters without a bra.”
Calloway, it turns out, is a woman who used an Oxford degree to dedicate her entire life to an Instagram account featuring photos of her rather banal travels and superficial factoids about art and history. Knowing that, nothing Beach tells you is surprising. Calloway comes across as both self-absorbed and passionless in Beach’s piece, and it seems obvious from the get-go that Calloway’s the kind of gal you hit the club with, not one who you trust to be reliable as a friend, let alone as a business partner.
But being a drug-addicted hot mess is not a crime, and it certainly isn’t a matter of public interest, even if Calloway does have a modest following. Beach may think herself a victim here, but the victim of what? It’s still unclear.
You may assume this is going to be a story of someone abusing her privilege or the like, but the more you read, the more you realize the central theme is the author’s jealousy. Beach and the Cut are the aggressors. You can expect someone who hinged their entire identity and financial security to an obviously dysfunctional “influencer” to be petty and vindictive. What’s horrifying is that the Cut would be complicit in a hit job like this.
My former friend actually sucks, and here are some personal details about her addiction and suicidality is not a good premise for a story. It sets a precedent that any personal complaint, no matter how minor, about any semi-public figure is fair game for media outlets to cover.
We recently saw this when babe.net ran a hit piece on Aziz Ansari.
The Cut article was just a natural extension of the Ansari one. Both featured protagonists who could hide behind the veil of private life (and in the babe.net case, literal anonymity). And both described behaviors that were maybe rude or even mean, but hardly matters of public concern.
Under this standard of journalism, anyone with a byline or social media handle could wake up one day to find a multi-thousand word essay in a major magazine complaining that said person was mean to them in high school or stood them up on a date.
Responsible journalism outlets ought to stop running pieces that amount to personal grievances.
