Skepticism around virtual influencers has simmered for years, ever since these CGI darlings burst onto the scene promising to upend the creator economy. In my own "irresponsible prediction" as Setters, I even dared to forecast their swift demise as a fleeting trend — digital divas destined for the scrap heap of marketing experiments.
Fast-forward to 2025, and while virtual influencers (not to be confused with VTubers, those live-action avatars with real humans pulling the strings) still hold a niche appeal, they're falling flat where it counts most: with brands. The robots haven't quite conquered the world; instead, they're struggling to keep the lights on in their virtual studios.
What was once hailed as the future of flawless, 24/7 endorsements has hit a wall of authenticity cravings and ROI doubts. Sure, they offer brands god-like control — no scandals, no diva demands—but in a post-AI boom era, consumers are sniffing out the synthetic sheen and scrolling past. Let's dive into the data that's turning this sci-fi fantasy into a cautionary tale.
Brands' Cold Shoulder: Stats That Sting
If virtual influencers were supposed to eclipse their human counterparts by now, 2025's numbers tell a different story. A comprehensive April 2025 study found that a staggering 60% of the world's largest brands have zero plans to incorporate virtual influencers into their campaigns.
That's not just hesitation; it's a full-on rejection. And of those who've dipped a toe in, a mere 15% have actually tested the waters in the past year. Why the freeze? Trust issues top the list—96% of non-adopters cite consumer skepticism as the deal-breaker, fearing backlash over "fake" endorsements that feel more uncanny valley than relatable.
The decline is even more pronounced on the front lines of influencer matchmaking. Platforms connecting brands with creators report a 30% drop in brands opting for virtual influencers in campaigns over the past year. Back in October 2024, a whopping 86% of brands were game for AI creators, but by mid-2025, that enthusiasm has curdled into caution.
Kyle Dulay, co-founder of a leading influencer platform, chalks it up to the "boom-and-bust cycle" of hype-driven tech: Virtual influencers grabbed headlines with their glossy perfection, but real-world results? Not so much.
Brands are pivoting to micro-influencers and user-generated content for that raw, human spark, leaving digital dolls gathering virtual dust.
Contrast this with the broader influencer market, ballooning to $33 billion in 2025. Human creators are cashing in, with 63.8% of brands locking in partnerships this year. Virtual ones? They're the side character nobody invited to the party.
Gen Z's Guilty Pleasure: Niche Fans, Not Mass Appeal
On the audience side, there's a flicker of hope — or delusion, depending on your view. A May 2025 survey of 2,001 U.S. Gen Zers (ages 12-27) found that 40% follow at least one virtual influencer on social media. That's two in five young scrollers hooked on the hyper-real holograms.
Dig deeper, though, and the picture gets pixelated: The bulk of these fans are 19-to-21-year-old guys, with nearly half in that college sweet spot admitting to tuning in. It's a demographic bubble —tech-savvy dudes geeking out over AI aesthetics, while the wider Gen Z crowd (especially women) sticks to flesh-and-blood faves.
And influence? It's there, but tepid. One-third of those surveyed have made a purchase swayed by an AI influencer's rec, but that's a far cry from the blind loyalty human creators command. Broader stats echo the divide: While 56% of consumers trust virtual endorsements in theory, only 28% buy into their authenticity in practice. Gen Z might follow for the novelty, but when wallets open, they crave connection over code.
Lil Miquela: The Poster Child for Perpetual Youth (and Decline)
Want to feel ancient? The OG virtual icon, Lil Miquela, would be turning 28 this year if she aged like the rest of us. Created in 2016 as a 19-year-old Brazilian-American robot model, her agency Brud still markets her as a wide-eyed teen — frozen in perpetual Gen Z limbo. It's a gimmick that's wearing thin.
Once a trailblazer with Calvin Klein collabs and Prada campaigns, Miquela's Instagram empire (2.4 million followers) is hemorrhaging relevance. Over the last year, she's shed about 15,000 followers monthly, a slow bleed that screams "out of touch." Engagement's dipped too, from viral highs to algorithmic afterthoughts.
Miquela's saga mirrors the virtual influencer's plight: Early buzz from her "hacked" drama and celeb selfies gave way to fatigue. She's still pulling $73,920 per post, but at what cost? Her bio now winks at turning "older," yet the facade cracks — fans crave evolution, not eternal adolescence.
Also read:
- Rolling Stone’s Top 25 Influential Creators of 2025: A Controversial Ranking Sparks Debate
- Indian Influencer Dhruv Rathee Launches AI Fiesta, a Cost-Effective Proxy Platform for Premium AI Models
- TikTok Influencer Expands Reach with Eerily Realistic Digital Avatar
The Verdict: A Trend on Life Support
My "irresponsible prediction" from years back looks prescient: Virtual influencers aren't dead, but they're dialing it in. Brands are wising up to the trust gap — 62% are testing AI tools, but only for the backend magic, not front-facing fakes.
Gen Z's 40% follow rate is a loyal but limited lifeline, skewed toward a narrow dude-bro demo. And icons like Miquela? They're the cautionary CGI corpse, losing followers faster than a bad reboot.
In 2025, the real influencers are the ones who bleed, laugh, and mess up on camera. Virtual ones might stick around for niche gigs — gaming avatars or metaverse mascots — but as a brand replacement? That's a hard pass. If you're betting on bots to build empires, maybe it's time to unplug and go human. After all, in a world craving realness, perfection is just another word for boring.
