When you, along with 150 million other subscribers, watch a Jimmy Donaldson video—sorry, we mean a MrBeast stunt—you are helping him become an international phenomenon. Currently the third most popular content provider on YouTube, MrBeast is a distinctive kind of influencer whose revenues are based not on selling products or promoting brands but rather on whether he can get more viewers to watch him perform charitable acts, like randomly handing $10,000 to a person engaged in panhandling on a highway median.
How do these transactions work? How does MrBeast—or should we say, Donaldson—earn an estimated $54 million each year by giving away money to others?
The answers to these questions rest on the central concept of value, as it relates to MrBeast’s offerings but also to his audience’s participation. Because the videos MrBeast posts offer value to his followers, they happily subscribe to his channel—an action that costs little for them but offers great value for MrBeast, YouTube, and advertisers. Let’s break it down further.
MrBeast has gained a name for himself—well, for his alter ego—by posting videos that appeal widely to audiences. Their appeal stems from several features. First, MrBeast videos are well-produced, carefully edited, strategically designed content. Little is left to chance; it is clear to viewers that Donaldson has devoted substantial time and effort to producing the best content possible. Donaldson himself affirms this perception, noting that he has devoted hundreds of hours and many years of study to learn what make YouTube videos successful, even before launching his own effort. Thus, he knows precisely which cuts are more appealing, and how many, as well as where on the screen to place tickers that provide information about the number of viewers or people helped at each moment of the video. That level of quality differentiates the videos from the clutter of YouTube content available across the site.
Second, the videos offer altruistic benefits, which MrBeast readily shares with viewers. He promises them that by subscribing, they enable him to undertake even more and more extravagant charitable efforts. He explicitly defines clicking the “subscribe” button as an act of charity. He makes the link totally obvious, stating for example, “Beast Philanthropy is literally funded by your eyeballs. Not even joking.” For several months, he ended each video with the promise that for every new subscriber he received, he would donate 10 cents to charitable causes, even beyond those provided in the videos.
But the videos themselves also help viewers feel a warm glow, because they show struggling people benefitting in remarkable ways. MrBeast has paid for ocular surgery for 1,000 people with vision impairments, cochlear implants for 1,000 people with hearing loss, and to adopt all the dogs from an animal shelter. He has given the deed to a house to a pizza delivery driver and a Lamborghini to an Uber driver.
In return, people clearly are willing to subscribe to his channel, as well as spread word of mouth, in the form of their own MrBeast-inspired altruism. With more subscribers, MrBeast can earn more revenue from YouTube, which pays content providers according to the revenue it earns from advertisers that pay to appear next to that content. Because advertisers know that millions of people are paying attention, to catch the next video in which he might tip a server with real gold bars, they are willing to pay more for such slots. For consumers, even though subscribing costs them virtually nothing, other than attention, the benefits they earn, in the form of more and better content, is substantial.
Some theorists argue that this transaction—attention for entertainment—actually is more expensive than consumers realize. In a sense, their eyeballs are being sold. But most YouTube viewers appear aware of that trade-off and happy to enter into it. They figure they were going to watch anyway, so doing so in a way that allows someone like MrBeast to help others adds even more value to their side of the transaction. Furthermore, his fans argue that, by watching him commit acts of generosity or silliness, rather than the ugly, violent, and racist content that plagues the platform, they are helping create a better, kinder, more enjoyable YouTube overall. And Donaldson himself actively maintains this image, presenting MrBeast as just a regular, friendly guy who happens to be willing to spend exorbitant amounts to entertain and help others.
In turn, many fans have shared videos to the MrBeast channel, depicting themselves engaged in small acts of kindness, like cleaning up a public park or tidying the shelves in a local store. They claim to be inspired by his acts, and perhaps they are. But they also might be hoping for some substantial payoff; MrBeast’s invitations to join in silly contests often are limited to those who subscribe and interact more with him. In one video, he created a version of Willy Wonka’s factory, with large spinning peppermints, a chocolate river, and marshmallow-looking walls. The contestants, chosen randomly from among his followers, had to maintain their balance in the spinning peppermints. The last person standing received $500,000. Not a bad potential payoff for a simple click.
Discussion Questions:
- Do you subscribe to MrBeast? If yes, what is your favorite of his videos, and why? That is, what value do his videos provide?
- What sets MrBeast apart from other popular YouTubers, and how could other influencers learn from his example?
Sources: Max Read, “How MrBeast Became the Willy Wonka of YouTube,” The New York Times Magazine, June 12, 2023; Vincent Miller and Eddy Hogg, “‘If You Press this, I’ll Pay’: MrBeast, YouTube, and the Mobilisation of Audience Commodity in the Name of Charity,” Convergence (online first), https://doi.org/10.1177/13548565231161810; Olivia Peluso, “MrBeast Could Be Worth a Billion—and We Don’t Just Mean Views,” Forbes, December 23, 2022