Not too long ago, motoring journalism in the Philippines meant seasoned print editors, long test drives, and carefully written reviews that came out weeks later. Journalists would spend days living with a car, putting it through traffic, expressways, and even provincial roads before sitting down to write their verdict.
Today, that world feels almost ancient. Now, a 30-second Facebook reel can reach more people than a full-page review — and it’s often made by someone who has never written a motoring article, never measured fuel economy, and sometimes, never even driven the car they’re talking about.
The shift has been swift and jarring. Carmakers that once prioritized veteran motoring editors now roll out the red carpet for content creators with big followings, regardless of their technical knowledge. Launch events that used to be low-key and detail-focused are now designed like concert shows — with choreographed reveals, photo-walls, and mood lighting. Publicists don’t ask about your circulation numbers anymore; they ask about your engagement rate.
And there’s serious money on the table. Many influencers are paid tens of thousands of pesos on the spot just to show up, take a few clips, post stories, and tag the brand. Some even demand appearance fees before agreeing to attend. They rarely read spec sheets or ask technical questions. They just pose, record, post — and get paid.
What makes it stranger is this: most of their followers aren’t even in the market to buy a new car. They’re mostly students, casual viewers, or lifestyle followers who just like glossy content. They’ll like and share, but they won’t walk into a showroom the next day. That disconnect means carmakers are chasing numbers that look impressive on paper but often don’t convert into sales.
It’s easy to see why brands still do it. Influencers can create instant buzz, especially among younger audiences who no longer read newspapers or watch long-form motoring shows. A well-edited reel can make even a budget car look like a dream machine. And that reach — at least on the surface — is hard to resist.
But there’s a downside. Many influencer “reviews” gloss over the important stuff: safety ratings, real-world fuel economy, aftersales costs, long-term reliability. Some have even posted glowing reviews of cars they never actually drove. Meanwhile, seasoned journalists — who spend real time with the vehicles and test them in the real world — often see their detailed, hard-earned work drowned out by algorithm-friendly stuff.
That doesn’t mean influencers are villains. A few have matured into proper reviewers who blend style with substance, and many bring creativity and energy into an industry that could use fresh voices. But when hype outweighs credibility — and when brands prioritize clout over content — consumers lose. Because cars aren’t just lifestyle props. They’re complex machines that affect people’s safety, finances, and lives.
What the industry needs is balance. Use influencers to create buzz, yes — but keep journalists in the picture to provide depth, scrutiny, and context. One brings excitement, the other brings credibility. Both are important.
The medium may have changed, but the need for trustworthy car information hasn’t. And if motoring journalism is going to survive this influencer era, it has to adapt without losing what made it valuable in the first place — even if it means speaking a little louder in a room full of ring lights, filters, and followers who can’t actually afford the cars they’re seeing.
