Some TikTok users trust medical influencers more than their own doctors

Medical misinformation is a significant issue on TikTok. The app has been populated with misleading videos discussing topics like steroids, ADHD, and acetaminophen. Despite TikTok’s preventative measures, those videos continue to be a thorn in its side.

What mechanisms allow health misinformation to spread on TikTok? A research team led by Dr. Suzanne Makarem of Virginia Commonwealth University studied medical influencers on TikTok and put forth a compelling idea: Viewers might be putting too much faith in the doctors they see on the For You Page.

The study consisted of two parts. First, the researchers combed through 330 videos posted by doctors who have at least 100,000 followers on TikTok. Then, they interviewed 26 Gen Z TikTok users who follow physician-influencers on the app.

The first part of the study revealed that TikTok users are more likely to engage with doctors who look the part. Physician-influencers who wore medical attire received significantly more comments than those dressed in casual clothes, and using a medical background (i.e. a hospital or clinic) also drew more engagement than more “personal” settings.

Those results show that the appearance of a physician-influencer is just as important as the information they convey, and the interviews with Gen Z TikTok users add more credibility to that conclusion. One of the study’s so-called “informants” said that “looking the part of the doctor” creates a more “believable” atmosphere. “Even in her videos at home, she always has a stethoscope on,” said another informant when asked to describe a physician-influencer they follow.

The believability of a labcoat-and-stethoscope outfit may not seem like a big deal. After all, the accounts studied by the research team are all medical doctors. But viewers’ willingness to automatically trust someone who looks authoritative can be tricky when product recommendations come into the picture. “[Physician-influencers’] role as healthcare experts appears to keep informants from questioning their medical advice or product recommendations because ‘after all, the doctor is only going to promote something that actually works,'” reads the report

Some of the respondents don’t even extend that trust to their actual doctors. In their interviews, the researchers found a persistent double standard: Recs from physician-influencers are seen as well-meaning, whereas real-life doctors are seen to be chasing profits. “My gynecologist taught me how to treat my urinary tract infection, but the TikTok doctors taught me how to ease the pain,” one informant said. The same person said that their doctors focused on “just healing the thing you have in the moment, and they’re not doing anything to stop it from getting to this point.”

That attitude shows that the problem of medical misinformation on TikTok goes far beyond social media. It is a symptom of a broken medical system that has led many Americans to lose faith in their primary care providers. “I feel like I can’t go to anyone… It’s hard to schedule an appointment with a face-to-face therapist,” said one informant. “So if I can follow [doctor name] on TikTok and she gives some of her points and tips and tricks from her therapist job in real life, then I can take that into account and I can personally better myself.”

That lack of trust is too big of an issue for TikTok to solve on its own. In the meantime, the app’s users can keep one important idea in mind: Just because someone’s wearing a labcoat, it doesn’t mean they are automatically trustworthy.