I've come to the conclusion that very famous YouTubers are their own breed of human.
I'm old enough to vividly remember when FRED became the first YouTube channel to reach 1 million subscribers; since that milestone over a decade ago, it's estimated that 16,000 channels have reached the million mark. One of them is David Dobrik.
I am not one of the 17 million subscribers on David Dobrik's main channel, nor am I subscribed to any member of his absolutely chaotic friend group, the Vlog Squad. That's all because, up until quite recently, I was very sure I would hate him. And let me be clear: I really, really wish I could hate him. But Dobrik—who isn't even an American citizen—is doing more to help American families in need right now than our own administration, which makes it really hard for me to maintain my hatred.
My inclination to hate Dobrik is, admittedly, quite biased. He's a white guy in his 20s who pivoted to YouTube after gaining a steady following on the now-defunct Vine, a category of influencer that I tend to avoid due to a pretty tainted track record. Of course, not everybody who fits this criteria is inherently bad; Cody Ko and Kurtis Conner are two examples of 20-something white men whom I discovered through Vine and remained loyal to after the great migration to YouTube.
But there's something about Dobrik's incredibly rich, incredibly famous lifestyle that instantly turned me off. I watched his episode of "Open Door with Architectural Digest"–as a loyal viewer–and found myself flabbergasted. As Dobrik walks the AD film crew through his humble $2.5 million abode, this man reveals that he orders Chipotle "seven to nine times a week," keeps a flame thrower within arm's reach, and sometimes backs his Tesla into his street recycling bin. Sure, a lot of that video is probably him just maintaining a bit—but he needs a babysitter, not a mortgage.
I'm also typically not a fan of reckless pranks, which comprises a great deal of Dobrik's content (like legally marrying his 46-year-old best friend's mother for less than a year). He had to go to the ER once after juggling empty wine bottles. He likes surprising people when they least expect it, an attitude that translates into his recent acts of philanthropy.
Last week, Dobrik partnered with EA Games to gift gaming consoles to a handful of lucky fans, hand-delivering them (with gloves and masks, of course) while driving around Los Angeles. The Vlog Squad went the extra mile by wrapping up $10,000-checks in Dobrik's merchandise, using t-shirt cannons to sanitarily give viewers in need a great deal of help. The reactions are very sweet, and I may or may not have gotten goosebumps while watching. He's kind of like Ellen DeGeneres, except without the drastic pay cuts to staff with no warning.
I'm aware that nobody really cares what I think about a YouTuber who is more rich and famous than I could ever dream of being, but I know I can't be the only one with these strong conflicting feelings. I I hereby release my senseless hatred of Dobrik. Maybe he does still need supervision at all times, but he's doing a bigger, greater good for the world than almost any boomer right now. I'll let the absurd Chipotle consumption slide.