Manus, an AI company Meta acquired for $2 billion last year is running ads promising quick, easy money with AI: Find local businesses without websites or with bad websites, have AI build them one, then call them up and sell it to them.
As part of the campaign, Manus was paying content creators to build out Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok accounts that promote its AI product as an easy, lucrative gig. (The creators’ TikTok accounts were taken down after The Verge inquired about them.) Some of these videos would also appear as official ads for Manus, but the posts on the paid creator accounts themselves often obscured their ties to the company.
The ads were not subtle. Posted by an account called “Manus AI by Meta,” one video presented Manus’ AI agent as an “Easy side hustle” that “absolutely anybody can do” — one that supposedly “takes less than 10 minutes” and can bring in a “potential $5k a month.” The young person in the video says, “There is literally no limit.” Except, I guess, the number of businesses willing to buy an AI-generated website from a stranger on the internet.
The ad did not tag the creator featured in it, but their TikTok account, which has since been removed, was filled almost entirely with Manus content. Their Instagram account, which is still live, is nearly identical. Neither disclosed any connection to Manus in its bio or posts.
Across TikTok and Instagram, I found a network of other accounts posting near-identical Manus content, much of it hyping the website scheme, but also selling vibe-coded apps. The accounts were strikingly similar. They looked the same, used the same language, and promised the same thing: “The art of Manus” with a close-up of their face, “my websites don’t look vibe-coded anymore,” “don’t get a part-time job,” and a “making [thousands of dollars] without talking challenge” as the creators put tape over their mouths. Most accounts were only a few months old, had only ever posted about Manus, and appeared to be run by creators in their late teens or early 20s. The majority of posts had no noticeable engagement, though some were viral hits with tens of thousands of likes, comments, and shares.
Some accounts vaguely referenced to “building with Manus” in their bio, or something similar. A few listed what appeared to be real names, and those led to LinkedIn profiles identifying them as contractors producing content for Manus. There was also a person whose LinkedIn profile said that Manus hired them in January as a contract “viral growth expert” to “lead a team of 10–20 content creators,” enforce “strict brand guidelines and quality benchmarks,” guide creators on persona-specific content, and run coaching sessions training creators on how to go viral. The person did not respond to a request for comment. Manus spokesperson Ronghui Li confirmed the company “works with third-party agency partners on paid UGC creator programs across platforms including TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube” and said the individuals and accounts I referenced were real “external partners involved in this program.”
Manus declined to answer questions on Meta’s role in the program, including whether the parent company was aware of it or whether it complied with Meta’s own policies. Asked about disclosure and advertising rules, Li said that Manus occasionally licensed some of their creator videos as formal ads on the platforms, where they were posted with the usual advertisement labeling. However, Li claimed responsibility for disclosure on creators’ posts lay with the creators themselves and that Manus is now reviewing the specific accounts and posts in question.
Asked why Manus was promoting the tool as an “easy side hustle,” Li said the company does “not endorse exaggerated or misleading earnings claims” and was reviewing the content I flagged. Li did not say whether that review is of the program as a whole. Li also did not answer my specific question about what evidence, if any, Manus had to support the earnings claims made in the videos.
Meta, YouTube, and TikTok all unambiguously require creators to clearly disclose paid promotions. Multiple legal and advertising experts I spoke to said the undisclosed relationships don’t just run afoul of major platforms’ advertising policies; in multiple jurisdictions, they probably break the law. Sonal Patel Oliva, an advertising lawyer at Fieldfisher, said British regulators “take a firm position on undisclosed commercial relationships in influencer marketing,” requiring incentivized content to be clearly labeled as an ad. Alexandros Antoniou, a law professor at the University of Essex in England, echoed this, saying that vague brand-adjacent language “won’t cut it” as a disclosure.
Meta did not respond to multiple requests for comment asking whether it was aware of the program and whether the campaign complied with its advertising policies. TikTok declined to speak on the record, but since I reached out, most of the Manus hype videos appear to have been removed, and many of the accounts that posted them seem to have been banned. YouTube did not respond to a request for comment.
Antoniou added that earnings claims are “riskier” than disclosure omissions, given tight rules on misleading consumers in the UK. The experts agreed that the same broad principles apply elsewhere too, including in the EU and US.
Meta owned Manus throughout the campaign described here and had reportedly already begun integrating the startup and its systems. It now faces the prospect of having to unwind the deal after Chinese regulators blocked it, even as the company insists it complied with relevant laws and says, without elaborating, that it expects to reach a resolution with Beijing.
