The explosive rise of college students turning to OnlyFans as a side hustle is symptomatic of a society losing sight of its moral compass and the purpose of higher education. As highlighted by the recent documentary “Lonely Fans,” more students are opting to sell explicit content online in pursuit of financial stability—an alarming trend that should give every concerned citizen pause. This isn’t just about creative entrepreneurship or economic flexibility; it’s about the underlying failures of our education system, the normalization of online pornography, and the risks students are now encouraged to take to survive the burden of student debt.
Supporters of this movement claim that platforms like OnlyFans offer more flexibility and higher earning potential than traditional jobs. Some even equate it with college athletes making money through NIL deals, attempting to put them on the same moral footing. But the reality is that selling explicit content is not a harmless side gig. It cheapens both the individual and the value of real work while exposing young adults to serious long-term risks, from exploitation to digital footprints that can haunt them for decades. Comparing this to working a food service job or tutoring is a dangerous stretch—one that undermines personal dignity and social standards.
The normalization of OnlyFans in academic circles is even more troubling. Satirical comparisons of OnlyFans courses alongside gender studies or pop culture classes reflect a growing cynicism—that the modern university, especially on the Left, has lost its way. Instead of training future leaders and innovators, universities are now ridiculed for embracing every passing trend, no matter how degrading or self-destructive. There’s a bite in the jokes circulating about “Professor OnlyFans,” but it’s rooted in a real concern for the erosion of academic and societal standards.
While leftist commentators might downplay the risks or even frame OnlyFans as a form of empowerment, the reality remains: the internet never forgets. Employers in the real economy will absolutely factor in a candidate’s online record, and having a history of explicit online content is a liability that won’t be erased. Additionally, the vast majority of OnlyFans users do not rake in big profits—instead, they face high levels of stress, privacy invasion, and long-term consequences that far outweigh any short-lived financial gain. This is not a “get rich quick” scheme, but a digital minefield with permanent repercussions.
At its core, the phenomenon is another stark example of what happens when traditional values—hard work, integrity, responsibility—are discarded in favor of instant gratification and easy money. Instead of pushing young adults toward self-respect and productive, meaningful careers, society is now telling them that self-exploitation is a valid path to success. If America is to reclaim its cultural footing and equip future generations for true prosperity, it must return to championing faith, family, and honest labor—not the false promises of digital fame and fleeting financial gain.