Selling financial freedom: a brash breed of influencers appeal to Gen Z investors

0 7

The Blockchain Boy freely admits that his world of financial influencers is a murky one. The 23-year-old Floridian, whose real name is Lucas Dimos, has a TikTok following of more than half a million where he discusses cryptocurrencies and which tokens he thinks will rise and fall.

“Obviously [financial influencers] have a bad reputation, which is somewhat well-earned most of the time,” he says. “You kind of get to see what someone’s moral character is like.”

The videos posted by financial influencers online are often cringeworthy at best. 

“If Pablo Escobar can make billions without computers and AI, how are you still struggling in this day and age to make a poxy 10K per month,” boasts 29-year old Luke Desmaris, in a video in which he walks stiffly to the balcony of a Dubai flat, set to a remix of the theme from The Godfather.

Desmaris’s account is typical of a kind of “hustle bro” financial influencer, a group of young gurus who claim to have made a killing through trading and now dole out financial information to their followers — often for a price. Their messaging is simple: the system doesn’t want you rich, and the only way to get there is to break out. You can choose years in a dead-end job for a shot at the property ladder and a modest portfolio, or do as they do: take a punt on a life of luxury, Lamborghinis and living it large in foreign locales.

“Seventy per cent of Gen Z think influencers give better advice than traditional financial advisers,” warns Alex Barkley, a banking strategist and managing partner at Lancero Capital Partners. “They’re peddling a world that’s ethically and legally grey; for young investors facing a challenging world, it’s appealing.”  

And in the dog-eat-dog world of foreign exchange, crypto and other exotic products, influencers such as Dimos are keen to stress that it’s up to investors to work out whether to step through the looking glass.

“If you do what someone on the internet tells you to do, I don’t have any sympathy for you,” he says. “I’m only showing people what I’m doing, it’s their prerogative about what to do next.”


Alex King, founder of personal finance site Generation Money, has studied what he describes as “work freedom culture”, which often promotes forex and crypto as a path to making cash. The world he describes is plastered across social media — one where young influencers (mostly men) show off their wealth to encourage others to buy in.

“You’ll see an image of a trade that made 300 per cent in one day or profit and loss reports which have gone from £10,000 to £300,000 in a few months,” says King. “These are huge, massive gains that professional hedge fund managers would only dream of, tied in with lifestyle marketing — things like sports cars and Rolex watches.”

Desmaris is a posterboy for that kind of mindset; he reached media notoriety for bragging about driving in bus lanes and claiming they were for the rich. In a video from July, he shows viewers an alleged flight from Luton to Manchester with a private jet from Uber (the company does not offer such a service). In another, he confidently tells viewers that they need £20,000 a month for a “normal life”.

Companies House shows a string of companies that listed Desmaris as director but which are now defunct. Of the two that are still active, TheAlertNation was flagged by the Financial Conduct Authority, the UK’s leading financial watchdog; in 2021, it warned that TheAlertNation was unauthorised to provide financial services or products in the UK.

An X account, which the FCA has said was connected to TheAlertNation, offers monthly memberships, providing trades to follow. Packages cost up to £149.99 a month, which covers forex, gold, stocks and crypto markets and promises “personal lessons via Zoom or Call”. Although the X account has been renamed, a connected Telegram group lists a man with the same name as Desmaris’s fellow director as an administrator. 

When approached for comment via TheAlertNation X account, the owner responded with “interesting story bro”. Desmaris did not respond to a request for comment on other platforms.

Another self-proclaimed trader is Anders Østerby, a Dane living in Dubai who claims to have made it big through contracts for difference (CFDs), a highly leveraged investment product which allows investors to bet on whether the value of an asset will rise or fall (in this case, typically currencies) agreeing to pay the difference across a set period.

In a video filmed while driving a Ferrari, Østerby tells his audience that there is no reward without risk. “Is it worth the thousand dollars at risk that might change your whole life in five years, or the doubt you will have in five years that what if I just started?” he asks. 

Dig into Østerby’s world and the narrative becomes hazier. A disclaimer at the bottom of the page warns that 80 per cent of retail investors lose money trading on CFDs. It also claims that his videos are “not to be interpreted as trading advice”, despite the website telling would-be investors that they can “copy [his] personal trades”.

Østerby did not respond to a request for comment. 

Dimos is at pains to emphasise that he is upfront that his videos are a business.

“I’m not telling you I have these Lamborghinis, or that I’m going to make you this much money,” he says. “If you’re not promising returns, and if you’re being upfront with people, there’s nothing wrong with sponsorships or selling a course — it’s up to the individual to understand that you’re paying for their time.”


It may be tempting to write off those drawn in by the promise of financial freedom as naive, but the popularity of these accounts is driven by the economic context. “Social media has created a distorted idea of success, especially for a younger generation,” says Barkley. “The idea that you need a Lambo and an Audemars Piguet in order to be seen as successful has really warped many people.”

But the success of these kinds of accounts is as much about the challenge of the “formal” financial system. The average house price in the UK in July 2024 was £266,334, according to Nationwide, up 2.1 per cent year on year — the fastest annual pace since the end of 2022. Meanwhile, wage growth excluding bonuses in the three months to June 2024 slipped to 5.4 per cent, the smallest increase since July 2022. 

And though inflation is easing after the peaks of the immediate post-pandemic era and the shock of the Liz Truss “mini” Budget, those relying on Isas or traditional investing routes face an uphill struggle if they are unable to put away significant amounts.

“Who buys lottery tickets?” asks Felix Pflücke, lecturer in law at Somerville College, Oxford, “It’s poor people. For them, buying a memecoin [a cryptocurrency based on a joke or trend] is the only way they can make money. They’re not going to get wealthy with a £100 a month saving plan.”

Regulators have begun to tighten the screws on influencers that breach their rules. For example, in June the FCA announced it had brought charges against nine influencers — including stars from reality TV show Love Island — for providing unauthorised advice on buying and selling CFDs. Eight pleaded not guilty, while one was unable to attend the hearing on July 11.

FCA data also hints that its efforts to clamp down on dubious financial promotions are bearing fruit. The number of promotions withdrawn in 2023 rose to just over 10,000 from 8,600 in 2022 and 573 in 2021. 

But influencers in more lax jurisdictions, such as Dubai, still pose a major challenge, says Pflücke, who also holds a post as a postdoctoral researcher in law at the University of Luxembourg.

He says UK regulators are doing a good job, but some influencers are not in the EU or EU, but in Dubai.  

“How can you counter that?” he says.

The other key part of the answer to the challenge lies in financial literacy, an antidote to both dodgy financial influencers and any outright scams, though he admits that this is nothing new.

Dimos sees financial literacy through the lens of what he calls an increasing “understanding that everything’s a bit of a scam”, adding that he thinks there is more critical thinking by retail consumers before they put their money in.

He also emphasises that he is not telling users what to do; although his Telegram channel is listed as the one group “that could actually change your life”. He says he seeks to build a community rather than a herd.

“There’s always a winner and a loser in finance — you take that risk by participating,” he adds. “People know they can’t rely on the government or the stock market to deliver those returns . . . ethical or not, people have changed their lives through following this advice. That’s a net positive.”

Those who have lost a lot of money buying into complex products they didn’t fully understand will not necessarily agree.

Read the full article here

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More

Privacy & Cookies Policy