Podcast Episode: BBC investigation into OnlyFans exposes the brutal reality of platform capitalis

Pip: A BBC documentary tears the veil off OnlyFans and somehow manages to indict everyone except the economic system running the whole operation. Impressive restraint.

Mara: freerein61 takes that contradiction apart in a piece that connects platform capitalism, the pseudo-left's defence of commodification, and what the collapse of sustainable cultural work actually looks like on the ground. Let's start with the BBC investigation itself and what it reveals — and conceals.

BBC Investigation, Platform Capitalism, and the Pseudo-Left's Alibi

Pip: The BBC went inside OnlyFans expecting to find bad actors. What the post argues is that they found the system working exactly as designed — and then flinched from saying so.

Mara: The piece sets the frame directly: "he is following a business model that is discussed openly in these forums." The agent who threatened a woman and her daughter, who sent masked men to strangle her in her own home, is not a rogue element. He is the informal enforcement arm of a platform taking a twenty percent cut and disclaiming responsibility for everything downstream.

Pip: Which is the rentier logic in its purest form. OnlyFans generated $684 million in pre-tax profits last year by extracting value from labour it does not employ, policing exploitation it does not acknowledge, and parasitising creators it does not protect.

Mara: And the BBC's response to all of this is to invoke the Online Safety Act and interview the UK's anti-slavery commissioner. The post argues that framing matters enormously here: calling it "modern slavery" portrays extreme exploitation as a rare crime rather than a structural feature. It "individualises exploitation, prosecutes the worst offenders, and leaves the economic structure that produces the desperation intact."

Pip: So the documentary functions less as exposure and more as pressure-release — enough outrage to satisfy viewers, not enough analysis to threaten the system producing the outrage.

Mara: The post makes the same argument about the pseudo-left. The "sex work is work" position, it contends, is not progressive but capitalist realist — it accepts that all human relations must become commodities and frames resistance as prudishness. The post puts it plainly: "No amount of regulation can make the commodification of the human body humane."

Pip: The comparison to justifying nineteenth-century child labour lands harder than it should.

Mara: There is also a sharp economic dimension. The piece points to Kate Nash losing money on every tour and turning to OnlyFans to cover costs — streaming paying $0.00173 per play, touring costs up forty percent since the pandemic, eighty percent of music revenue captured by one percent of artists. The post's argument is that sexual commodification is not a choice but a forced response to the collapse of culturally supported work.

Pip: The language of agency, the post notes, belongs to a class for whom OnlyFans might be a lucrative side hustle. "For Rebecca from South Wales, it was a trap."

Mara: The Marxist position the post advances is abolition of the conditions, not sanitisation of the market: expropriating tech monopolies, socialising digital platforms, treating cultural labour as a public good. Regulation, it argues, cannot humanise a market whose violence is not accidental but structural.

Pip: The violence, as the post puts it, is capitalism without its ideological mask — which is perhaps the one thing the BBC documentary accidentally got right by showing it.


Mara: The thread running through all of this is what happens when a system has no use for most of its people and no language for saying so honestly.

Pip: Next time, presumably, the BBC will commission a follow-up about Uber drivers and call it a labour story. We'll be here.

Emma and the Fake, AI-generated profiles on Twitter (X)

I have known Emma for over a month. She has contacted me four times and follows me after I post an article. Although she claims to live in Shoreditch each time, she seems to have multiple personalities. Her end goal appears to be to generate revenue from her OnlyFans page, which she advertises.

To draw in customers, she shares photos of herself in revealing clothing. She is attractive and has a notably large backside, if that’s your preference. The source of these images is uncertain, but they are likely generated with highly realistic synthetic faces, bodies, or bios created by language models to mimic real users. These accounts are primarily involved in coordinated influence campaigns, crypto scams, spam, and political boosting. Research shows that such accounts often operate in groups and tend to have fewer followers.

To understand how these accounts operate, particularly given the advanced AI technology involved, visual and behavioural cues are crucial. Emma’s fake accounts seldom post original or varied content. Other fake profiles often act as reply-guys, spam affiliate links, promote schemes like “get-rich-quick,’ cryptocurrency scams, or use generic language similar to ChatGPT. These profiles usually follow thousands of users but have very few followers.

Although Emma the bot dismisses her work as trivial and insists she’s real, the rise of AI-generated fake identities and synthetic bot networks poses more than just a technical challenge. It exposes a deeper problem rooted in capitalism’s social dynamics. This issue significantly affects humans as aware, social beings and could be harmful. To fully understand this, we must link it to capitalism’s long history of using technology to benefit the ruling class, as well as the wider social crisis capitalism has induced in human awareness and community.

I identified Emm’s game early, but for others less aware, a collapse of Shared Reality can threaten mental health. One of the most damaging effects of AI-created fake profiles is what can be called an epistemic crisis—a systematic breakdown in an individual’s capacity to tell reality from falsehood. This problem isn’t novel under capitalism; historically, the ruling class has sustained control via ideological mystification.

However, AI bots operating on an industrial scale mark a significant advancement. When someone cannot be sure if their online interlocutor is human or machine, if the consensus they see reflects genuine public opinion or a synthetic effort, and if the emotional connection they feel is with a real person or an algorithm  the very basis of rational social discourse begins to break down..

This has profoundly corrosive effects on individuals. The natural human response to an environment saturated with deception and manipulation is a generalized suspicion, not merely of bots but of everyone. When you cannot reliably distinguish the genuine from the fake, you begin to distrust all online interactions. This cynicism is, in many ways, a rational adaptation to an irrational environment, but it carries an enormous psychological cost. It deepens social atomisation, makes solidarity harder to build, and breeds a pervasive sense of isolation and powerlessness. People retreat from engagement, or are drawn into filter bubbles where algorithmic amplification — often driven by bot networks — creates false communities built around manufactured outrage.

In this already fragmented social landscape, the emergence of AI-generated fake social environments often results in predictable harms. Young people, still forming their social identities and seeking validation through peer interactions, are particularly vulnerable. When online communities are dominated by artificial personas created to provoke engagement, outrage, or emotional reliance, authentic developmental progress is hindered. The fundamental human ability to form genuine relationships—based on mutual vulnerability, genuine uncertainty, and meaningful stakes—is jeopardised when these interactions occur mainly with machines rather than real individuals.