There are few things more British than quietly tolerating linguistic nonsense until, one day, we collectively snap and rename it properly. “Influencer” had its moment and will hopefully soon RIP. Now, we turn our attention to two more digital terms: “online model” and “content creator.”
At face value, both sound entirely respectable. “Model” carries decades of meaning. It conjures images of structured campaigns, fittings, agencies, creative direction, and a professional standard that has been refined, critiqued, and, frankly, earned. Models are part of an ecosystem. They represent brands, embody design, and often set cultural tone. They are, in a very real sense, aspirational figures. People look to them, consciously or not, when forming ideas about style, presence, and identity. It’s glamour, Paris, Milan – what “Emily in Paris” brought to our screens.
So when the same word is casually applied to someone filming themselves in their bedroom, algorithmically optimising angles, and quietly embedding a paid link three swipes across… it does feel like the term has been left “unsurped”.
Let us be plain: there is a difference between modelling and monetising attention through suggestive content. One is a profession rooted in collaboration and craft. The other is a business model built on engagement and conversion. Again, both exist. Only one is being described accurately.
“Online model” is, in many cases, a polite euphemism. A soft-focus phrase doing quite a lot of reputational heavy lifting. It attempts to borrow legitimacy from an very well established profession without adopting its standards, structures, or accountability. And that is where the tension sits.
Then we arrive at “content creator,” the most elastic term of the lot. Technically, it applies to anyone producing anything online. A documentary filmmaker? A teacher sharing revision guides? A historian breaking down archival material?
A person lip-syncing in a kitchen while performing a strange dance whilst directing viewers toward a subscription link? Also, apparently, a content creator.
At this point, the phrase tells us almost nothing.
Language, when it works properly, should clarify. It should help us understand what we are looking at, what value is being offered, and what expectations are reasonable. Instead, these terms blur the edges. They create a polite ambiguity where clarity would be far more useful. This is where a slightly sharper, more honest vocabulary helps.
If the primary activity is selling access to sexualised material, then dressing it up as “modelling” is not accuracy, it is branding. If the output is engineered to drive clicks toward paid platforms, then “content creation” is only part of the story. The more precise term is commercialised attention, or, more bluntly, monetisation of self-presentation. And yes, that may feel less comfortable. It is not meant to be flattering. It is meant to be clear.
There is also a cultural angle worth addressing. Words shape perception. When everything becomes “modelling,” the term itself loses weight. When everything becomes “content,” quality and intent become indistinguishable. Over time, that erosion matters. It shifts standards quietly, without debate, until one day we realise the baseline has moved.
A model should be someone whose work stands up in a professional, creative, and often public context. Someone you might reasonably point to as an example of discipline, presentation, or artistry. That does not require perfection, but it does require substance. A “digislut” twerking in a looped clip with a hidden link is not occupying that same space. That is a different lane entirely. A profitable one (for a very few), but different nonetheless. Pretending otherwise does not elevate it. It simply confuses the category. It’s also giving our growing children aspirations of earning top dollar for a career that has a very short shelf life and leaving society having to pick up the pieces for someone who was not properly educated and may have mental health problems from exceeding their digital “best before” date.
Now, to the legal question, because it sits quietly in the background of this discussion. In the UK, prostitution itself is not illegal. An individual can legally sell sexual services. However, many activities surrounding it are illegal. These include soliciting in public, running or managing a brothel, and controlling or coercing someone into prostitution. In practice, this creates a situation where the act is lawful, but much of the infrastructure around it is restricted.
Why does that matter here? Because it highlights the difference between legality and labelling. Something can be legal and still be misdescribed. Something can be profitable and still benefit from clearer language. This is not a moral argument. It is a definitional one.
If we are comfortable enough as a society to consume, click, subscribe, and engage, then we should also be comfortable enough to describe what we are engaging with accurately. Polite euphemisms might smooth the edges, but they do little for understanding.
Platforms are currently hiding behind Article 230, but if the law changes, they will become liable for everything published on their platforms – watch all those reported accounts they are so sure don’t go against their guidelines disappear…
So is it time, again, for a gentle reset? Not outrage, not condemnation, just precision.
Models model. Creators create. Monetisers monetise, and the rest is, quite literally, marketing.
#SayWhatItIs
