Why Gifting on Instagram Feels Like a Dud
May 9, 2025
Why Gifting on Instagram Feels Like a Dud
May 9, 2025
Instagram wants to play in the fan economy.
It wants creators to earn directly from their audience, just like they do on TikTok, Twitch, and even Circo. That’s why features like Badges for Lives and Gifts on Reels now exist. You can now send a creator a “Star.” You can buy them a Badge. You can tip them with love.
But hardly anyone does.
Because gifting on Instagram feels weird—like bringing a tip jar to a runway.
The behavior doesn’t land because the platform wasn’t built for it. The mismatch is cultural, not technical.
Instagram is a machine for showing off.
It’s where people post their best selves, curate lifestyles, and manage perception. It’s a performance stage, not a confessional booth. Vulnerability, when it appears, is polished. Even pain is aesthetic.
Gifting, by contrast, is intimate. It requires reciprocity, not just reach.
It thrives where creators say, “I see you, and you see me.”
On TikTok, creators cry, joke, struggle, or celebrate in real-time. Fans respond with gifts in the moment—because the bond feels real.
Instagram doesn’t foster that kind of bond.
There’s admiration, yes. But it’s distant. And in that distance, the impulse to give dies.
Instagram’s gifting features haven’t caught on because they don’t feel native.
Less than 15% of eligible creators regularly activate Badges during Live sessions.
Many mid-sized creators earn under $120/month from Gifts.
Compare that with TikTok’s top creators, where fan gifting accounts for up to 20–30% of monthly income.
Even YouTube’s “Super Thanks” performs better per user because it’s attached to content that creates loyalty over time.
It’s not that Instagram users don’t want to support creators—it’s that the platform hasn’t taught them how.
Here’s the core behavioral tension:
Instagram trains creators to look successful, then asks them to ask for money.
It’s a contradiction. A glitch in the aesthetic matrix.
When a creator says “send me a Gift” right after posting a perfectly filtered video from a hotel in Dubai, it doesn’t feel like a request—it feels like a lie. The audience is left thinking:
“If you’re living like this, why do you need me?”
That’s because Instagram’s dominant social contract is built on envy, not empathy. And gifting requires empathy.
Effective gifting platforms understand this truth:
Gifting is a feedback loop. Give → Get recognition → Feel seen → Repeat.
On other platforms, fans get:
Public acknowledgment
Leaderboard rankings
Highlighted comments
Shoutouts during Lives
On Instagram? You get a small icon. Maybe. Quiet. Invisible. There’s no emotional return on your generosity. No ritual of connection.
Just a silent transaction.
Gifting on IG
Gifting on IG
Meta assumed gifting was a feature.
So they copied it.
But what they missed is this: Gifting is a cultural behavior.
It’s not just a button. It’s a belief. A social norm. A shared understanding between platform, creator, and fan.
Instagram didn’t build the social soil that makes gifting grow.
And no feature, no matter how well-coded, can substitute for that.
If you’re designing tools for creators—especially in emerging markets—remember this:
Monetization isn’t just about payout methods. It’s about permission.
Gifting works where closeness is designed, not just allowed.
Your platform has to teach people how to care.
Because fans won’t tip someone they don’t feel close to.
And creators won’t feel comfortable asking unless the platform says it’s okay.
Instagram doesn’t have a gifting problem.
It has a truth problem.
Until it creates space for creators to show up honestly, fan-led monetization will remain an awkward feature stapled to the side of a curated world.
You can’t build generosity in a place that punishes vulnerability. And you can’t expect fans to give in to a system that trains them only to watch.