Donating to the deprived or donating to TikTok?

TikTok, the app beloved by many in Gen Z, is facing significant controversy. Creators with over 1,000 followers can profit from the platform, particularly through TikTok Live streams, which have become the primary income source for many users. But the big question remains: how much of this revenue truly benefits creators, and how much simply fuels TikTok’s ever-growing profits?

When opening the app, users can navigate to the “Following,” “For You,” or “Live” tabs. The “Live” section, in particular, offers endless streams of creators worldwide interacting with followers in real-time. During these live sessions, creators can receive virtual gifts, co-host with other streamers, and engage viewers through subscriptions, reactions, chats, and donations. This interactive format has made TikTok Live an incredibly popular and profitable feature for the platform.

Virtual gifts are a key element of TikTok Live. They range from small tokens like “Panda” or “Love Bang” to pricier options like “Rainbow Puke” or “Concert.” Each gift is tied to a specific number of coins, with values ranging from just a few to several thousand. Here’s the catch: these coins are purchased with real money. Users buy coin packages, similar to in-app purchases in mobile games, and use them to donate to their favorite creators. For instance, sending a “Panda” translates into a small amount of income for the creator. However, this seemingly harmless system takes a turn when vulnerable families from third world and developing countries use TikTok Live as a platform to beg for donations.

Consider the case of the displaced Syrian family of Hannah Gelbart, Mamdough Akbiek, and Zia Al-Qattan. They livestream daily, asking viewers for digital gifts to survive. On average, they earn around $1,000 USD per hour in gifts. Yet, due to TikTok’s substantial 70% commission, the family keeps only a fraction of that amount. For every $185 spent by viewers during their live streams, the family receives just $56, while TikTok pockets a staggering $129. In these cases, TikTok emerges as the primary receiver, profiting disproportionately from the desperation of those in need.

So, who is truly at fault here? Are the families wrong for using TikTok as a last resort to survive, or is the platform to blame for profiting from their struggles? Many users are unaware of how little of their donations actually support the families they aim to help. TikTok has announced plans to take action against “exploitative begging,” but the decision raises questions about fairness. Why target struggling families while wealthier creators are allowed to employ similar tactics without scrutiny?

This issue highlights a larger problem: misinformation and a lack of transparency in online donations. It’s essential to understand where our money goes. Spending hundreds of dollars on virtual “Pandas” or “Concerts” doesn’t directly aid families in need; instead, it contributes to TikTok’s annual $18.5 billion revenue. If we truly want to help vulnerable individuals, we must rethink how we donate. Ensuring our contributions support those in need, not just enriching these incredibly large and wealthy corporations. In order for this change to be possible, it requires a systemic change and overall greater awareness.