There is a specific kind of predator in the digital age: the one who treats human trauma like a scenic overlook. Soft White Underbelly (SWU) has mastered the art of the “poverty safari,” packaging the broken lives of the Appalachian hills into high-definition content for the suburban voyeur. The channel’s creator hides behind the veneer of “giving a voice to the voiceless,” but the math tells a different story.
This is a multi-million dollar business. Between a YouTube channel with billions of views, a $10-a-month private subscription service, and merchandise sales, SWU is a for-profit machine fueled by the misery of people who will never see a fraction of the revenue they generate. While the channel occasionally directs fans toward a GoFundMe or hands out a few twenty-dollar bills to interviewees, there is a gaping hole where actual financial transparency should be.
The irony is that these videos don’t receive critical acclaim for their “artistry” or any genuine humanitarian result. Instead, they are lauded by the elites of Hollywood and the global media class precisely because they make white people look bad. To the “self-hating American” in a coastal penthouse, these interviews are a tacit way of mocking the working class. It provides them with a high-res justification for their disdain, allowing them to point at a struggling family in a coal town and whisper, “See? This is why we don’t need to listen to them.”
The hypocrisy is sickeningly clear: if the subjects in these Appalachian hollows were part of a “protected” or fashionable identity group—if they were trans or part of an urban activist class—the tone of the documentary would shift instantly from voyeuristic mockery to reverent, tear-jerking hagiography. The camera would look for their “strength” and “resilience” rather than lingering on their missing teeth and cluttered porches.
In the Appalachian hollows, SWU doesn’t bring a ladder; it brings a tripod. It captures the caricature that the elite loves to hate, then leaves. It is the digital equivalent of an 18th-century “freak show,” where the owner collects the tickets at the door and the “performers” remain in the dirt. We don’t need more “awareness” if that awareness only serves to line the pockets of the person holding the camera while providing the world’s elites with a reason to keep laughing.
The Bible Verse
“He who oppresses the poor to increase his riches, and he who gives to the rich, will surely come to poverty.” — Proverbs 22:16
Why This Verse is Pertinent
This verse cuts straight to the heart of the “poverty safari” business model. It specifically condemns the act of using the destitute as a tool for personal financial gain. As per the context herein, it highlights the spiritual bankruptcy of those who build “empires of awareness” on the backs of the suffering, while simultaneously seeking the favor and “clout” of the wealthy elite. It promises that wealth built on the exploitation of the “lowly” is a house of cards.
A Prayer for the People of the Hollows
Lord, we lift up the families of Appalachia and the forgotten corners of our own land—the people who are treated as a spectacle for the world’s amusement and a punchline for the world’s elite.
Grant them Your protection from the cameras that seek only to capture their brokenness for profit. Provide them with the real help that the ‘self-hating’ world denies them—not the hollow ‘awareness’ of a YouTube video, but the dignity of work, the restoration of their homes, and the respect they deserve as children of God. Shield them from being a ‘circus side show’ and let them see that while the world mocks them, You have never turned Your back on them.
Amen.”
