The accusation you’re referencing seems to stem from a recent Observer article, echoed widely in outlets like The Guardian, titled “‘Profiting from misery’: how TikTok makes money from child begging livestreams.” As of April 6, 2025, this story has gained traction, spotlighting a grim phenomenon where TikTok allegedly profits from livestreams featuring impoverished children begging for virtual gifts. The platform’s system allows viewers to send digital “gifts” that creators can convert into real money, with TikTok taking a cut—reportedly up to 70% per transaction. Critics argue this incentivizes exploitation, particularly in poorer regions.
The reports detail how children, some as young as nine, from countries like Kenya, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East, are pushed into livestreaming for hours—begging, singing, or even performing suggestive acts—to earn cash from global audiences. Middlemen or “digital pimps” often orchestrate these streams, taking a share of the profits while bypassing TikTok’s age restrictions (officially 13) using fake accounts or lax verification. Investigations, including undercover work by journalists, claim to have uncovered networks where kids are coached to plead for gifts, with phrases like “please send me roses” or “help my family,” tugging at viewers’ sympathies. The Observer and others assert TikTok’s algorithm boosts this content due to its high engagement, amplifying the cycle of misery for profit.
TikTok’s response has been to tout its “strict policies” against child exploitation, pointing to measures like age-gating and content moderation. Yet, enforcement appears spotty—reports note that flagged accounts often pop back up under new names, and the platform’s 40,000 moderators struggle to keep pace with the flood of content. The company’s financial stake is undeniable: with over a billion users and livestreaming as a growing revenue stream, those gift transactions add up. Critics, including child welfare advocates, argue TikTok’s cut—potentially millions annually from such streams—makes it complicit, even if indirectly.
On the flip side, some defend the platform, saying it’s a tool that desperate families use to survive, and the real issue lies with socioeconomic conditions, not TikTok itself. Others point out that similar dynamics exist on YouTube or Twitch, though TikTok’s scale and accessibility make it a bigger lightning rod. The debate’s heated—does TikTok bear moral responsibility, or is it just a mirror reflecting deeper poverty? What’s your angle on this?
