Gen Z Trusts TikTok Doctors in Lab Coats More Than Their Own, VCU Study Finds

Young TikTok users who follow doctors on the app see them as more credible than the physicians they actually visit, even when those creators are selling supplements. Most have never checked whether the person in the scrubs is licensed.

That’s the core finding of a new Virginia Commonwealth University study published in the Journal of Consumer Affairs.

Suzanne Makarem, an associate professor of marketing at VCU’s School of Business, co-authored the research with two colleagues. The team analyzed 330 TikTok videos from 11 U.S.-based licensed physicians with massive followings, then interviewed 26 Gen Z users who actively follow doctors on the app.

The wardrobe matters more than you’d think. Doctors in medical attire drew significantly more comments than those in casual clothes, and clinic or hospital backdrops outperformed personal settings. Some creators keep the lab coat on while making a sandwich in their own kitchen, Makarem told VCU News.

When she asked participants whether they’d confirmed these creators were real doctors, the answer was usually no. The stethoscope and the diploma on the wall did the convincing.

Then there’s the money. Followers often knew physician-influencers profit from products, supplements and books. They just didn’t hold it against them. Many assumed a doctor would only promote something that works and figured these creators would share the advice for free if they could afford to. Adherence was high, Makarem said. Followers buy the products and take the advice.

Their own doctors get no such pass. Participants described rushed appointments, co-pays for explanations they couldn’t follow and physicians they believed cared more about repeat visits than prevention. One participant said her gynecologist treated her urinary tract infection, but TikTok doctors taught her how to ease the pain.

Makarem calls it the “mere social media presence effect.” A doctor who shows up in your feed, shares bits of their personal life and seems to carve out time from a busy schedule to teach you something ends up carrying more weight than the one you see in person.

The timing is pointed. TikTok has been flooded with health misinformation since the FDA linked acetaminophen to autism, U.S. News & World Report reported this week.

Makarem doesn’t think the answer is fewer doctors online. Only about 17% of health and wellness influencers are conventional medical professionals, she noted, citing Pew Research Center data, and she believes more physicians should join despite liability concerns.

The study has limits worth naming. Twenty-six interviews make a qualitative snapshot, not a national poll. Every account studied belonged to a real, licensed physician. The worry is how much trust the costume earns before anyone hears the advice.

For health brands paying physician creators, the findings raise a disclosure question worth getting ahead of. For viewers, the fix is simple and rarely used. Look up the license, and notice who’s selling, even when they’re wearing a stethoscope.