Influencers: asset or marketing trap? 2/3

Special Feature – Part 2/3, Before we continue, a quick recap of Part 1: we explored all the positive aspects that cycling influencers bring: inspiration, education, community, openness, accessibility… And if you missed it, we invite you to start with the first part of the feature by clicking here. And for today, we’re dropping to the small chainring: we’re talking business, partnerships, promo codes, storytelling that’s too polished to be spontaneous… and potential pitfalls.

By Jeff Tatard – Photo: @jefftatard

The Commercial Trap: When Influence Becomes a Commodity

But… there’s a “but.”

…and it’s also time to remember something essential: while many influencers are paid to test or promote gear, at 3bikes that has never been the case. Never. None of our four writers have been paid to speak positively about a product. When it’s excellent, we say so. When it’s not, we say that too. That’s our policy: honesty, transparency, and total independence.

Of course, each of us at 3bikes comes with our own preferences, our own habits, our own history as a cyclist. We all have our biases and we certainly don’t try to hide them. On the contrary: we embrace them, because they are part of our sincerity.

A 3bikes test is never that of a neutral robot, nor of a perfectly objective algorithm. It is that of a real cyclist, with their sensations, their experience, their demands, their favorites… and sometimes their disappointments.

But embracing our biases doesn’t mean being complacent. It means being transparent. Saying why a product appeals to us, how we used it, under what conditions, and with what expectations. It means: contextualizing, explaining, owning our point of view, rather than concealing it behind a pseudo-neutrality.

Ultimately, what we publish is not a universal truth, but an honest and acknowledged interpretation of equipment by one of the four writers of the media. And that is precisely what distinguishes us from sponsored content: the freedom to say what we really think, without anyone buying our enthusiasm or our reservations.

The influencer’s economic model, even a very bike-friendly one, even one who starts all their videos with “Hey commu, hope you’re doing well!” still relies on a small gasoline engine we all know: business.

Sponsorship, product placements, affiliate links, -10% with code CYCLISTELIFE, “limited edition” launches, “premium ripstop thermo-structured gravel kit”, “ultra-tech rain jacket that resists water, wind, and your banker”. In short: a nice entry ticket at stake. And like in a peloton when it’s riding at 55 km/h, everyone in a neat line: everything becomes a little less clear in terms of aero.

And then, inevitably, the questions pour in:

• Is the content truly disinterested, or subtly flavored with the bittersweet scent of a paid partnership?
• Do brands scrutinize audience, or authenticity?
• Do followers buy because “it’s cool”, or because it’s useful, truly useful, or because they’re afraid of being the only ones not to have the carbon-look Apidura saddlebag mounted on the seatpost?

And then there are the more blatant cases: when a cycling influencer is paid to do an “honest and transparent” review of the latest model at €1,400 a pair of wheels, the message becomes as blurry as a windshield in the rain without Rain-X. Yes, high-end equipment makes sense. Yes, it’s enjoyable. Yes, it makes you go faster. But for whom? For everyone? Or only for those who want to show off a little more than a Garmin bike computer on their handlebars?… The kind of people for whom having a Karoo 3, two power meters, and a GoPro 12 means “I’m a minimalist, I only take the essentials.”

That’s where we enter a technical zone, like a muddy singletrack: the slippery slope of accessibility. Basically, cycling is supposed to be simple. You get on. You pedal. You breathe. You come back. The end.

But commercial influence can easily give the impression that you absolutely need:

• the Oakley Sphaera full mirror glasses,
• the “Pro Team Aero Thermal Light Mk3” outfit (Desert Sand color),
• the latest aero venturi-optimized helmet,
• and that handlebar bag that costs more than your first Decathlon bike as a kid,

to be “a real cyclist”.

And little by little, without even realizing it, we slide. Not because of worn tires, no. Because of the pressure: to be part of the club, to be stylish on Insta, not to be “the only one in the group riding a 2012 aluminum frame with noisy wheels.” We go from simple pleasure to a kind of market of the visible, where dopamine sometimes comes more from likes than from kilometers.

And we haven’t even talked about the ultimate: Sponsored challenges where you’re offered to ride 300 km in 24 hours to try to win: “AN ULTRA-EXCLUSIVE PAIR OF CARBON WHEELS (value: one minimum wage) – draw among finishers*” (Spoiler: there are 48 finishers and only one winner. It’s not you.)

As if suffering became the ultimate badge, the totem, the entry ticket to the temple of modern cycling.

The Dissonant Message: Community Versus Consumption

In an ideal world, the cycling influencer would be an amplifier of simple pleasure: “get in the saddle, breathe, look at the landscape, share”. In the real world, there’s often this double discourse: “get in the saddle”, and “buy this, wear that, film this”.
And that’s where some cyclists start to raise an eyebrow. The message “freedom, air, breathe” is sometimes accompanied by “ride at X km/h, equip yourself with Y accessories, be visible”. The amateur cyclist can feel like Tom Thumb facing an industry trying to convert them into a consumer.
Remember that scene from one of our recent articles (and which we still love): the cyclist who sets off with their Oakley Meta glasses screwed onto their nose, weaving between two cars like in Ninja Warrior, and imagining that the 12 cm gap is equivalent to a highway. This cyclist may be influenced by what they see on screen: “it fits”, “it’s cool”, “try it”. And we end up valuing borderline trajectories, extreme style, and sometimes the useless.

Between Ethics, Transparency, and Responsibility

So: how to maintain positive influence?

First, by remembering that influence is not a flaw in itself. What matters is how we influence. Because showing a Zone 2 workout while filming the sunrise is beautiful.
Showing a bag of 14 products received in partnership under the pretext of “minimalist simplicity” is… something else.

So here are a few principles that could save the ecosystem before we all end up buying €600 titanium pedals without knowing why…

Basically: style + technique: OK, but with a bit of intelligence, a touch of kindness, and a generous helping of ethics.

Because the best influence… is the one that inspires without pushing to consume, that guides without infantilizing, and that reminds us that cycling, ultimately, remains a simple pleasure: two wheels, a crankset, and a dose of lucidity to avoid ending up prisoners of carbon rim marketing.

In summary:
“transparency, diversity of narratives, simplification, community, nuance”.

An influencer doesn’t exist for YouTube statistics, but for those who follow them.
If they explain, motivate, democratize, then their role is beneficial.
If they sell, oversell, and wrap it all in false authenticity… then that’s something else.

In the next part…

In Part 3/3, we will go even further: extreme excesses, loss of objectivity, influence that goes beyond cycling,
and especially a very real anecdote, you’ll see, a scene experienced in Canada that resembles a magnifying mirror of what unbridled influence can become.

=> Review Part 1 of our feature

=> All our Mag articles

=> The influence economy: understanding an indispensable system