I have met quite a few influencers over the years and, to be frank, they’ve mostly been a strange bunch. I remember meeting one at a party a while ago, she was running around (literally) with a phone and a bunch of cables. “I don’t have data!” she screamed. “Oh hello?” I said, confused. “And I need a plug!” she declared. And then she screamed again, and promptly attached her phone to the nearest plug socket, which was stationed by her ankle. There she sat, hunched on the floor, gripping the phone and tapping it furiously.

I am only talking about my experiences here, and my sample may be wildly unrepresentative, but I have noticed patterns: they come across as twitchy and manic; they don’t make eye contact; and they seem to struggle to maintain the kind of extended volley of question-and-answer responses, shared anecdotes, or jokes, that a normal conversation requires. They basically radiate social anxiety.

So I was interested to read about the “loneliness influencers” who broadcast tales of their friendless young lives to attract a following online. They make vlogs detailing their cosy Friday nights spent alone, at home, in vibrant aspirational cities like New York – the kind of place one chooses to live mostly for the social life on offer.

A caption on a typical vlog might read: “POV you’re a childfree and single girl who lives alone,........

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