Is the French Riviera Really Gay-Friendly — Or Are We Simply Being Tolerated?

 

There is a question I am asked surprisingly often: Is the French Riviera actually gay-friendly, or is it simply gay-tolerant because LGBTQ+ visitors are good for tourism?

It is a legitimate question, because for LGBTQ+ travelers, safety is often much more than simply asking whether a destination has gay bars, Pride events or rainbow flags.

We have learned, sometimes the hard way, that there can be an enormous difference between a destination that welcomes gay people because they spend money and a society in which LGBTQ+ people genuinely feel like they belong.

After more than three decades of visiting the Côte d’Azur — and more than a decade of living here — my personal answer is that the French Riviera is, by and large, genuinely welcoming to LGBTQ+ people. That does not mean it is perfect, however, and perhaps that distinction is important.

 

I first started coming to the French Riviera in 1990. Like many gay visitors of that era, I was interested in discovering the nightlife, meeting people and finding out whether I could actually be myself without constantly looking over my shoulder. I travelled here alone most of the time and spent plenty of nights exploring the clubs and bars, and what struck me was how comfortable I felt.

That feeling has stayed with me throughout the years. More than 25 years ago, the Explore Nice Côte d’Azur tourism authorities began developing a more formal LGBTQ+ tourism strategy alongside local gay-owned and gay-friendly establishments, helping establish the city and surrounding region as a welcoming destination for LGBTQ+ visitors.

Today, that approach has evolved considerably, with local tourism initiatives working alongside LGBTQ+ organizations and businesses to promote a destination that is not simply commercially interested in attracting the so-called “pink euro,” but one that has developed an actual LGBTQ+ community and infrastructure.

 

Of course, gay-friendly tourism isn’t automatically the same thing as genuine equality. A destination can be extremely profitable for LGBTQ+ tourism while remaining socially uncomfortable for LGBTQ+ residents.

A hotel can happily welcome two men sharing a room while those same two men might receive strange looks walking down the street. A bar can put a rainbow flag outside during Pride while its management does little if an LGBTQ+ customer is harassed.

A tourism board can advertise itself as a gay-friendly destination because LGBTQ+ travelers represent an attractive and relatively affluent market, while LGBTQ+ residents might still encounter discrimination in employment, housing or their everyday lives. 

 

The real test, therefore, isn’t whether the Riviera can sell itself to gay people; it is whether LGBTQ+ people can simply live here.

 

That is where my personal experience has been overwhelmingly positive. In my professional life on the Riviera, I have never felt that being gay has prevented me from doing business or building relationships. Quite the opposite: I have generally felt accepted, respected and able to be myself.

That has actually been one of the more interesting contrasts with some of my experiences in Canada. I have sometimes felt that Canadian society can place people into very specific expectations of what a gay man is supposed to look like, sound like or behave like, and if you don’t fit the stereotype there can be an assumption that something about you is unusual. Not always but it certainly would happen on more than one occasion.

Here, I have often found the opposite. Being gay doesn’t necessarily need to become your defining characteristic. You are gay, but you are also a businessperson, a neighbour, a friend, a customer, a landlord, a tourist, a waiter, a real-estate agent or simply the guy walking down the street. It is one part of who you are rather than the explanation for everything you do.

 

That is perhaps one of the things I appreciate most about life here.

There is a strange irony in modern LGBTQ+ marketing because, while visibility has been enormously important and has helped countless people find community and understand that they are not alone, sometimes everything now seems to require a label. Gay hotel, gay restaurant, gay beach, gay event, gay neighbourhood, rainbow everything. There is absolutely nothing wrong with LGBTQ+ spaces, and they remain incredibly important, particularly for people who are isolated or searching for community.

But one of the things I personally appreciate about the Côte d’Azur is that homosexuality can often exist without needing to be announced every five minutes. A gay couple having lunch isn’t necessarily an “LGBTQ+ experience”; they are simply having lunch. Two men walking hand-in-hand aren’t necessarily making a political statement; they are simply walking down the street. That ordinariness can be incredibly liberating.

 

That does not mean nobody cares or that prejudice has disappeared. France has strong legal protections for LGBTQ+ people and same-sex marriage has been legal since 2013, but legislation does not magically eliminate prejudice from society. There are still people who don’t approve, there are still families where coming out can be difficult, and there are still people who will make comments, stare, insult or occasionally behave aggressively.

The Côte d’Azur is not some LGBTQ+ utopia floating beneath the Mediterranean sun, and anyone visiting should exercise the same basic common sense they would use anywhere else, particularly late at night, in isolated areas or around groups of people where alcohol and aggression may become factors. What I have found reassuring, however, is that LGBTQ+ organizations and activists in the region are willing to speak publicly when incidents occur rather than pretending they don’t happen.

 

That community infrastructure is one of the strongest indicators to me that Nice has something more substantial than a tourism marketing strategy. The Centre LGBTQIA+ Côte d’Azur provides support, community activities, resources and assistance to people experiencing discrimination, rejection or other difficulties, while also connecting numerous LGBTQ+ associations in the region.

This matters considerably more to me than seeing a rainbow flag hanging outside a hotel. A rainbow flag tells you that a business wants you to feel welcome; an organization that provides support when someone is experiencing discrimination tells you that there is a community prepared to stand behind people when things go wrong.

 

I have also noticed over the years that the local LGBTQ+ business community tends to support itself. Of course there is gossip — this is the Côte d’Azur, after all, and there is gossip everywhere — but there also seems to be an understanding that maintaining a viable LGBTQ+ ecosystem benefits everyone.

If a gay bar disappears, you haven’t simply lost another business; you have potentially lost a place where people meet, socialize and create relationships. If an LGBTQ+-friendly business closes, another visible piece of the community disappears with it.

There is therefore an incentive to support one another, and I have often found that businesses here are inclusive because they genuinely want to be inclusive rather than simply because someone in a marketing department has calculated how much money LGBTQ+ travelers might spend.

 

One of the simplest tests of social acceptance is what happens when LGBTQ+ people are visible in ordinary public spaces. I have friends who will walk through Nice holding hands with their partners, sometimes during the day and sometimes at night, without giving it much thought. They aren’t trying to make a political statement; they are simply walking down the street with the person they love. Occasionally someone may look, and of course that happens. There are older generations who grew up with very different social attitudes, there are religious people, there are conservatives and, inevitably, there are people who simply don’t like homosexuality.

But a look is not necessarily harassment, and that distinction matters. You don’t need everyone to approve of you. You need to be able to live your life without being intimidated.

 

The annual Pink Parade in Nice provides another fascinating window into how the region has changed. The event is highly visible, colorful and energetic, but what I particularly enjoy seeing is the younger generation. They don’t seem particularly interested in asking permission. They show up, dress how they want, bring their friends, celebrate, dance, wave flags and demonstrate a level of confidence that many older LGBTQ+ people simply did not have when they were young. That isn’t because homophobia has disappeared; it clearly hasn’t. It is because younger people are growing up with decades of activism and legal progress behind them. They have inherited a much larger space in which to be themselves, even if they still have battles of their own to fight.

 

There is also an important generational dimension to this. Many LGBTQ+ people from older generations grew up knowing exactly what could happen if they were too visible.

 

Some experienced rejection from their families, discrimination at work, violence, bullying or simply a lifetime of being told that there was something wrong with them.

 

The younger generation has inherited many of the freedoms created by those earlier battles. When I watch young people celebrating openly at Pride in Nice, I sometimes think about how dramatically the world has changed since I first arrived here in 1990. They may not always realize how much courage previous generations needed simply to be visible.

 

Then there is Monaco, which is another story entirely. People often ask me about the difference between Nice and Monaco, and the reality is that although they are geographically close, they can feel like remarkably different worlds.

Monaco has historically placed an enormous value on discretion, privacy and reputation, and those characteristics influence the way LGBTQ+ life is expressed there as well. Monaco has nevertheless made progress in recognizing same-sex couples through its Contrat de Vie Commune, introduced in 2019, which provides legal recognition and certain protections for couples, including same-sex couples. It is important not to confuse this with marriage equality, because Monaco’s legal framework is different from France’s, but it does represent a gradual evolution that to this day continues to develop in the Principality’s approach to same-sex relationships.

 

Personally, I have noticed Monaco becoming more comfortable with LGBTQ+ visibility in recent years. It may be considerably less flamboyant than Nice, but that does not necessarily mean it is less accepting.

Monaco has always had an appreciation for discretion, and discretion is deeply embedded in the culture of the Principality. For some LGBTQ+ people, particularly those who value privacy, that can actually be an advantage. Monaco isn’t necessarily going to shout about everything, but sometimes not shouting is precisely the point.

 

So, is the French Riviera actually gay-friendly? After all these years, I would say yes, but with an important qualification: it is not an LGBTQ+ utopia, and anyone claiming otherwise is probably selling something. Homophobia and transphobia exist here, just as they exist elsewhere, and LGBTQ+ people should not arrive believing that a glamorous Mediterranean destination somehow makes prejudice disappear.

What I do believe, however, is that there is a meaningful difference between a place where LGBTQ+ people are merely tolerated and one where they have become part of the everyday fabric of society.

 

For me, the real measure isn’t how many rainbow flags appear during Pride month. It is whether a gay couple can walk down the street holding hands in October when nobody is watching, whether someone can mention their husband or wife to a colleague without wondering what the reaction will be, whether a gay business owner can operate openly without hiding who they are, and whether LGBTQ+ teenagers can see adults living openly and understand that there is nothing inherently wrong with the life they are imagining for themselves. It is also whether someone arriving alone on the Riviera can go out at night, meet people and feel that they belong.

 

Perhaps most importantly, genuine acceptance eventually means that being LGBTQ+ becomes so ordinary that people stop treating it as something requiring an explanation. That, to me, is the difference between being tolerated and actually belonging. After coming to the Côte d’Azur since 1990 and living here for more than a decade, I don’t feel as though I am being permitted to exist here because I am gay. I feel like I simply exist here, and honestly, that is exactly how it should be.

 

The French Riviera will continue to sell glamour, sunshine, yachts, villas, champagne and beautiful beaches, but when it comes to LGBTQ+ life, its greatest achievement may actually be something much less glamorous: making being gay feel increasingly ordinary.

After everything our community has been through to get here, ordinary can be pretty extraordinary.

Monaco’s Superyacht World Gets the Reality-TV Treatment: Inside Disney+’s “Yacht Deals Monaco”

 

For decades, Monaco’s superyacht industry has existed in a strange space between public fascination and private discretion. The yachts are impossible to miss: enormous vessels filling Port Hercule, sleek silhouettes anchored along the Côte d’Azur, and multimillion-euro floating palaces appearing each summer during the Mediterranean season. Yet the people who actually make the business work—the brokers, consultants, salespeople and industry professionals—have largely remained behind closed doors.

That is about to change.

Disney+ is bringing viewers inside this rarefied world with “Yacht Deals Monaco,” a new reality series that follows aspiring yacht professionals as they compete for an opportunity to enter one of the world’s most exclusive industries. The series is scheduled to premiere on Disney+ on 30 September 2026, with seven episodes released.

The premise is simple enough: eight ambitious candidates are brought into the world of superyacht brokerage and put through a series of professional challenges, sales tasks and presentations. But beneath that familiar reality-TV formula is something rather more interesting—the attempt to reveal what actually happens behind the glamour of Monaco’s superyacht business.

Beyond the Yachts and Champagne

The international image of Monaco’s yacht industry is built around extraordinary wealth. Visitors see the yachts, the tenders, the luxury cars, the private jets and the people moving between them. What they rarely see is the commercial machinery underneath it all.

Buying or selling a superyacht is not simply a matter of choosing a beautiful boat.

It can involve enormous financial transactions, complicated negotiations, technical knowledge, international clients, shipyards, lawyers, captains, crew, insurers and an extraordinary amount of relationship management. A broker is effectively operating at the intersection of sales, finance, luxury hospitality and high-level personal networking.

That makes the premise of “Yacht Deals Monaco” potentially more revealing than the usual reality show about wealthy people.

The series promises to concentrate on the people attempting to make a career in the industry rather than simply showcasing the finished product. According to the production description, the candidates must demonstrate whether they have the personality, resilience and commercial instincts necessary to deal with demanding clients and multimillion-euro transactions.

And that is where the reality-TV formula becomes particularly appropriate.

Because selling a superyacht is, in many respects, already a performance.

Eight Candidates, One Opportunity

The show places eight candidates into competition with one another as they attempt to prove that they can survive in the yacht-brokerage business.

They are deliberately presented as very different personalities: ambitious perfectionists, confident strategists, strong sales personalities and charismatic competitors. Their individual approaches become part of the entertainment, but the underlying question is more serious: who can actually turn personality and ambition into a viable career?

That distinction matters.

The superyacht business can look effortless from the outside. A broker may appear to spend the day walking around Monaco’s harbour, attending glamorous events and stepping aboard spectacular vessels. The reality is considerably less glamorous. Deals can take months or years, clients can be exceptionally demanding, and the financial stakes can be enormous.

The candidates therefore aren’t simply competing to be the most entertaining person on camera. They are being asked to demonstrate whether they can operate inside an industry where trust, discretion, knowledge and sales ability can be worth millions.

Two Insiders Become the Gatekeepers

The candidates are placed under the watch of two experienced figures from the yacht industry: yacht broker Cornelius Kistler and yacht consultant Marcela de Kern Royer.

De Kern Royer has subsequently spoken publicly about her involvement in the production, describing the series as an opportunity to open the doors to an industry that is often viewed primarily through the extraordinary yachts themselves.

Her involvement also adds another dimension to the series.

The yachting industry has historically been perceived as overwhelmingly male, particularly in senior commercial positions. De Kern Royer has highlighted the importance of women building careers and businesses within the sector and hopes the series can demonstrate that there is a place for a new generation of professionals.

That could ultimately prove to be one of the more interesting aspects of the programme.

Because behind all the imagery of wealth and exclusivity is an industry that requires people. The future of yachting depends not only upon wealthy owners buying increasingly sophisticated vessels, but also upon a new generation of professionals capable of serving that market.

Of course, there is another star in the series: Monaco itself.

The Principality is almost perfectly designed for this kind of television. Port Hercule provides the yachts. Monte-Carlo provides the glamour. The surrounding Riviera provides spectacular scenery. And the concentration of wealthy international visitors creates the visual shorthand required for a programme about the superyacht world.

But Monaco is not merely decorative.

The Principality is one of the world’s major meeting points for the superyacht industry. The annual Monaco Yacht Show, for example, brings together yacht builders, brokers, designers, suppliers, owners and industry professionals from around the world.

The market itself is substantial. The Monaco Yacht Show’s 2025 market report recorded more than €3 billion in estimated yacht sales during the first seven months of that year, while noting that the figure was complicated by numerous off-market transactions.

That gives some context to the world into which Disney+ is sending its cameras.

This isn’t merely a television fantasy constructed around people pretending to sell luxury boats.

There is serious money behind the industry.

Perhaps the most compelling reason for audiences to watch “Yacht Deals Monaco” has little to do with yachts at all.

Reality television has increasingly become fascinated with professions and lifestyles that ordinary viewers rarely encounter. Real estate agents, luxury brokers, private aviation professionals and high-end hospitality workers have all become entertainment subjects because they offer access to worlds that most people will never experience personally.

Superyachting takes that formula to another level.

A €50 million yacht is not simply a very expensive version of an ordinary boat. It represents an entirely different economic ecosystem.

The people buying these vessels can operate in a financial universe where the price of the yacht is only one part of the equation. Crew, maintenance, fuel, berthing, insurance, refits and management can generate enormous ongoing costs.

The broker therefore isn’t simply selling an object.

They are selling access to an entire lifestyle.

Then There is the Reality-TV Question

There is inevitably a tension between revealing the yacht business and turning it into entertainment.

The real industry depends heavily upon confidentiality and discretion. Many clients who possess extraordinary wealth have little interest in becoming television personalities. Deals can be conducted privately, relationships are closely guarded and the identities of clients may be considerably more valuable than the yachts themselves.

Reality television, meanwhile, thrives on personality, conflict, competition and drama.

That creates an intriguing contradiction.

How much of the actual yacht business can be shown when the people at the centre of the most valuable transactions may be precisely the people who don’t want to be filmed?

“Yacht Deals Monaco” appears to navigate that problem by concentrating on the aspiring professionals rather than turning wealthy yacht owners into the principal characters.

In other words, the programme can expose the machinery of the industry without necessarily exposing the private lives of the ultra-wealthy people who ultimately finance it.

For Monaco, the series could also have an unexpected effect.

The Principality has long been marketed through images of luxury. But luxury is an economy, not simply an aesthetic.

Behind every yacht are brokers. Behind every broker are shipyards, captains, designers, engineers, lawyers, accountants, crew agencies, management companies, insurers, marina operators, restaurants, hotels and countless other businesses.

The superyacht industry therefore contributes to a much larger ecosystem across Monaco and the French Riviera.

By focusing on the professionals attempting to enter that world, Disney+ may inadvertently show audiences something that traditional luxury advertising rarely does: the people who make the luxury economy function.

That may ultimately be more fascinating than another television programme showing champagne being poured on a yacht deck.

Welcome to Monaco’s Ultimate Sales Competition

“Yacht Deals Monaco” arrives at an interesting moment for the superyacht industry. The market continues to attract extraordinary wealth, while the business itself becomes increasingly sophisticated and competitive. At the same time, audiences have developed an enormous appetite for peeking behind the curtain of exclusive industries.

Disney+ is betting that viewers will want to see what happens when ambition collides with money, status, competition and one of the world’s most demanding luxury markets.

Eight candidates will enter.

Only some will have what it takes.

And somewhere between the polished decks of Monaco’s superyachts, high-pressure sales pitches and the relentless pursuit of the next deal, viewers may discover that the real luxury business is considerably less glamorous—and considerably more complicated—than the Instagram version suggests.

“Yacht Deals Monaco” premieres on Disney+ on 30 September 2026, bringing the competitive world of superyacht brokerage in Monaco to a global streaming audience.

Luxury, Clout and the Client’s Privacy: When Social Media Becomes More Important Than Discretion

 

If you spend any amount of time on social media, your algorithm eventually becomes a fascinating reflection of the world you work in, the things you search for and, increasingly, the things platforms think you want to see.

Because of my business, my social-media feeds are filled with virtually every corner of the luxury world: jewellery, automobiles, private aviation, yachts, luxury real estate, resorts and everything in between. There is no shortage of people showcasing what they do, what they sell and, sometimes, the lifestyle that supposedly comes with being successful in the luxury sector.

And after watching this world online for long enough, you begin to notice something else.

There are legitimate professionals who have spent years building businesses, reputations and relationships with clients. There are also plenty of people who appear to be selling the idea of luxury almost as much as they are selling an actual luxury product or service.

Some are showcasing extraordinary properties because that is genuinely what they do. Others are sitting beside a swimming pool, on a yacht or at a five-star resort while attempting to convince their audience that they have discovered the secret to becoming wealthy themselves—and, conveniently, that secret is available for purchase through their latest course, mentorship program or online community.

There is nothing inherently wrong with marketing yourself. Social media is an extraordinarily powerful business tool.

But there is a line between promoting your business and turning your clients into content.

And increasingly, I am seeing that line being crossed.

One trend that has become particularly noticeable over the past couple of years involves people sitting somewhere spectacular—a yacht in the Mediterranean, a luxury resort, a beach club—and suddenly opening their laptop or taking a phone call from an apparently important client.

The camera is running.

The audience is watching.

And then comes the supposedly outrageous client request.

Perhaps the client is demanding something at the last minute. Perhaps they are complaining about something. Perhaps they are asking for an unusual service or making a request that the person filming clearly considers ridiculous.

The implication is obvious: Look at the outrageous people I have to deal with because I operate in the luxury world.

Sometimes these people are legitimate and well established in their industries. Perhaps they genuinely see the content as an opportunity to demonstrate what they do, even while travelling or away from the office.

But when the content starts exposing the behaviour, requests or private conversations of actual clients, I have to ask a very simple question:

Who is this really for?

Is it for the client?

Is it for business?

Or is it for the algorithm?

Because those are three very different things.

After 15-plus years in luxury, I know one thing: you don’t expose your clients.

I have spent more than 15 years working in luxury property rentals and sales in the French Riviera.

I can tell you categorically that if I publicly aired the last-minute problems a client experienced during a villa stay, or shared the unusual requests a client made about a property, I would probably have very few clients left. And in this region, that would happen overnight.

That is simply not how serious luxury businesses operate.

It is extraordinarily rare that I even post photographs of myself as I still want some semblance of privacy. The idea of taking a client relationship and turning it into a public social-media spectacle simply for attention is completely foreign to how I conduct business.

Because in the luxury world, privacy is part of the service.

Discretion matters.

Confidentiality matters.

Trust matters.

And perhaps most importantly, clients need to know that what they tell you stays with you.

I have a million stories I could tell from clients across virtually every level of wealth. Some requests have been unusual. Some have been demanding. Some have been funny. Some have been incredibly complicated.

But that comes with the job.

What might seem strange to me may simply be completely normal to someone else.

They are paying my business to provide a service, not to become material for my next Instagram Reel.

The biggest problem isn’t even the embarrassment. It is tempting to dismiss these videos as harmless social-media entertainment.

There can be a much more serious issue.

A 30-second video portraying a client as demanding, eccentric, entitled or unreasonable may seem funny to the person posting it. But the client may be identifiable through their voice, location, travel plans, company, property, circumstances or even the timing of the incident.

And suddenly, what looked like harmless content can become a privacy and security concern.

Someone who is publicly known to be staying at a particular resort, renting a particular villa or travelling in a particular location may not want that information broadcast to thousands—or potentially millions—of people.

High-net-worth individuals can have particularly strong reasons for wanting their movements, residences, travel schedules, family circumstances and business dealings kept private.

The irony is that some people selling luxury are seemingly forgetting one of the fundamental things wealthy clients are actually paying for: discretion.

People do not pay premium prices so that their personal quirks, private conversations or business problems can become somebody else’s content strategy.

And then there is the trust problem. Imagine being a prospective client watching one of these videos.

You hear someone discussing a client’s private request.

Maybe the client’s name has been removed.

But you recognize the voice.

Or the location.

Or the property.

Or the circumstances.

Or you know the person being discussed.

What are you supposed to think?

Are you thinking, What a great professional—I want to hire them?

Or are you thinking:

If I become their client, will I be the next story they tell online?

That is the question every luxury business owner should be asking themselves.

Because reputation in the luxury sector is not built simply by showing expensive cars, yachts, villas and champagne.

It is built through relationships.

And relationships are built through trust.

Once a client believes that their private information might become public entertainment, that trust can disappear instantly.

And in relatively small luxury communities, word travels.

France takes privacy seriously. There is another particularly important consideration for anyone operating in France.

French law provides significant protection for private life and confidential communications.

Article 226-1 of the French Code pénal provides that intentionally capturing, recording or transmitting, without consent, words spoken privately or confidentially can constitute an offence punishable by up to one year in prison and a €45,000 fine.

That means the circumstances surrounding a secretly recorded client telephone call matter enormously.

And there is an important distinction here that social-media personalities should understand: recording a conversation and publishing that recording are not necessarily the same legal question.

Article 226-2 of the Code pénal provides that the same penalties can apply to retaining, making available to the public or a third party, or otherwise using a recording obtained through conduct covered by Article 226-1.

In other words, taking a recording that was obtained unlawfully and then putting it on Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, X or another public platform can create another layer of legal exposure.

And “but it’s true” is not some automatic get-out-of-jail card when privacy rights are involved.

The fact that someone is your client does not mean you suddenly acquire the right to broadcast their private conversations.

Being a business client doesn’t mean giving up your privacy.

This is where the issue becomes particularly relevant to luxury businesses.

A client may be discussing a reservation, a property purchase, a transaction, a family matter, a travel arrangement or a problem with a service.

It is still a private business relationship.

The CNIL, France’s data-protection authority, states that clients and other callers must be informed when telephone conversations are subject to recording or listening, including information about the purpose, recipients and relevant rights.

The CNIL also recognizes that recordings can, in certain circumstances, be used for legitimate purposes such as establishing evidence relating to a contract or transaction. But that is very different from saying a business owner has permission to take a client recording and repurpose it as public entertainment.

The purpose matters.

The circumstances matter.

The information involved matters.

And consent matters.

What happens when the client becomes identifiable?

The situation becomes even more complicated when the person can be identified.

That could happen through their name, voice, telephone number, email address, company, location, property, travel arrangements, transaction details or other information contained in the video.

At that point, you are no longer simply talking about someone telling an amusing story about a difficult client.

You may also be dealing with personal-data and privacy considerations, as well as potentially contractual, confidentiality or civil-law issues depending on the circumstances.

The CNIL’s rules around personal data emphasize that consent, where relied upon, must be informed, specific and tied to a particular purpose.

Permission to speak with a business does not automatically equal permission to become social-media content.

Those are completely different purposes.

The real question is: would you trust this person with your privacy?

This is where I think consumers should start looking at these videos differently.

Don’t simply ask whether the story is funny.

Don’t simply ask whether the client sounds outrageous.

And don’t automatically believe everything you see.

Ask yourself:

Would I trust this person with my personal information?

Would I trust them with the details of my family?

My travel arrangements?

My property?

My financial circumstances?

My business?

My security?

My private requests?

Would I be comfortable knowing that if I made an unusual request during a stressful situation, there was a possibility that someone might secretly record it and turn it into a piece of social-media content?

Because if the answer is no, why would you hire them?

Luxury isn’t about showing people how much you have.

There is an increasingly strange contradiction in luxury marketing.

The industry sells privacy, exclusivity, discretion and personalized service.

Yet parts of the social-media world seem increasingly obsessed with doing precisely the opposite: broadcasting everything.

The yacht.

The villa.

The private jet.

The resort.

The expensive dinner.

The important client.

The supposedly outrageous request.

The “look how crazy my life is” phone call.

At some point, the performance of luxury becomes more important than the actual business of providing it.

And that is where things get dangerous.

Because genuine luxury does not necessarily need to shout.

In many cases, genuine luxury is the person who quietly solves the problem, closes the laptop, puts the phone away and never tells anyone what happened.

The ultimate luxury may simply be knowing that nobody will talk about you.

After more than 15 years in this industry, I have learned that some of the most valuable things a luxury professional can offer cannot be photographed.

They cannot be put on a yacht.

They cannot be turned into a Reel.

They cannot be measured in likes.

They are trust, discretion, reliability and knowing that when a client tells you something privately, it stays private.

There will always be people chasing the next viral moment.

There will always be people who discover that outrageous client stories generate engagement.

And there will always be an audience willing to watch.

But for anyone considering hiring a luxury professional, perhaps the better question isn’t:

“How impressive is their Instagram?”

It is:

“How discreet will they be when the camera is turned off?”

Because in the real luxury world, the most impressive thing a professional can say about a client is often absolutely nothing.

And if someone is willing to sacrifice a client’s privacy for a few thousand views, perhaps the question isn’t whether the client’s behaviour was outrageous.

Perhaps the real question is what that video tells you about the person who posted it.

Algorithms in the Closet: Why Are LGBTQ+ Creators Once Again Paying the Price for Big Tech's Moderation Failures?

 

I live in a part of the world where creating content is king no matter what your sexuality may be.

It is becoming an increasingly familiar story for LGBTQ+ creators. Years of work disappear overnight. Entire YouTube channels vanish without warning. Videos are removed. Monetization is stripped away. Appeals are rejected or met with silence. Then comes the same explanation many creators say they receive: an automated system has determined their content violates policies relating to nudity or sexual content.

 

For those whose livelihoods depend on digital platforms, this is not merely an inconvenience. It can mean the loss of years of creative work, thousands of subscribers, advertising revenue, sponsorship opportunities and, in some cases, a significant portion of their income. A channel is not simply a social media account. For many, it is their business.

 

To be clear, there is no credible evidence yet that YouTube is deliberately conducting a coordinated campaign to remove LGBTQ+ creators simply because they are LGBTQ+.

 

However, that does not diminish the seriousness of what many creators say they are recently experiencing. Reports of wrongful strikes, demonetization and channel removals have become increasingly common, and many affected creators believe automated moderation systems are incorrectly flagging perfectly legitimate LGBTQ+ content as sexual or otherwise inappropriate.

 

That distinction matters. Intent may not be discriminatory, but outcomes can still disproportionately harm a particular community.

 

The timing is difficult to ignore. YouTube has significantly expanded automated enforcement across the platform, relying more heavily on artificial intelligence to detect potential violations before human review. While creators across many genres have reported erroneous strikes, LGBTQ+ creators have become particularly vocal about what they see as algorithms that fail to distinguish between sexual content and LGBTQ+ identity or expression.

 

Travel creators documenting Pride festivals. Couples sharing their daily lives. Gay men enjoying a beach holiday. Educational discussions about LGBTQ+ issues. Lifestyle content. None of these are inherently sexual. Yet many creators claim their content is repeatedly caught in moderation systems that appear unable to make that distinction.

This is not an entirely new problem.

 

Back in 2017, YouTube acknowledged that a technical issue with its Restricted Mode incorrectly filtered hundreds of thousands of LGBTQ+-related videos, effectively hiding them from many users. The company eventually corrected the issue, but it demonstrated something many LGBTQ+ creators had already suspected: algorithms can reinforce bias even when discrimination is not intentional.

 

Nearly a decade later, many creators fear history is repeating itself.

 

The concerns extend beyond YouTube.

 

Across Instagram, Facebook and other Meta-owned platforms, LGBTQ+ creators have spent years battling opaque moderation systems that frequently confuse identity with explicit content. Images of men at beaches, shirtless photographs taken in perfectly ordinary settings, or promotional material for LGBTQ+ venues can trigger removals or account suspensions despite containing nothing that would reasonably be considered pornographic.

 

My own experience reflects that frustration.

 

Over more than a decade managing LGBTQ+ social media accounts, including Gay French Riviera, I have seen my accounts suspended multiple times and anywhere from 3 to 30 days with appeals going nowhere. But at least Meta generally provides some explanation, even if that explanation often appears disconnected from reality.

 

As an example, a photograph of a man standing on a beach on the French Riviera somehow becomes problematic despite beaches being full of people wearing swimsuits every single day.

AI-generated promotional images featuring shirtless men—even when they are not touching or posed suggestively—have also triggered restrictions. Some LGBTQ+ venues have become almost impossible to promote because automated systems appear to treat their imagery differently than comparable mainstream tourism content.

 

Even language itself seems to create problems. 

 

Many creators now warn each other against combining perfectly ordinary words such as “travel,” “beach,” “gay” and “men” in titles, descriptions or hashtags out of fear that algorithms may incorrectly classify their content.

 

Whether every one of these claims can be independently verified is beside the point. The fact that creators are modifying perfectly legitimate speech to avoid invisible moderation systems demonstrates how deeply trust has eroded.

Adding insult to injury is the lack of transparency.

 

When a creator spends years building an audience, carefully following platform guidelines, investing countless hours filming, editing and uploading videos, they deserve more than an automated email generated by artificial intelligence. They deserve to know precisely what policy was violated, exactly which content triggered enforcement and the opportunity for meaningful human review.

 

Instead, many describe appeal systems that feel equally automated, leaving creators trapped in a bureaucratic loop where no one appears willing—or able—to explain what actually happened.

 

Organizations such as GLAAD have also criticized YouTube’s moderation practices, arguing that recent policy changes have contributed to a less safe online environment for LGBTQ+ users and creators. While GLAAD has not alleged a deliberate purge of LGBTQ+ accounts, its concerns echo what many creators have been saying for months: automated moderation systems are producing outcomes that disproportionately affect LGBTQ+ communities.

 

Artificial intelligence undoubtedly plays an important role in moderating billions of pieces of content uploaded every day. No reasonable person expects every video to receive immediate human review. But when AI systems repeatedly struggle to distinguish between LGBTQ+ identity and sexual content, the technology is no longer simply imperfect—it begins producing systemic consequences.

 

These are not isolated technical glitches. They become barriers to participation, visibility and economic opportunity.

 

For LGBTQ+ creators, visibility has never been guaranteed. It has been fought for over decades. Social media platforms often present themselves as champions of diversity during Pride Month, wrapping logos in rainbow colours and celebrating inclusion through carefully crafted marketing campaigns.

 

Those commitments ring hollow if the very systems powering these platforms continue to suppress, demonetize or remove legitimate LGBTQ+ voices through flawed automated enforcement.

 

If artificial intelligence is making these mistakes, then the companies deploying that technology have a responsibility to fix them.

 

That responsibility includes meaningful transparency, faster access to human review, detailed explanations when enforcement occurs, independent auditing of AI moderation systems for potential bias, and public reporting on whether certain communities are disproportionately affected by automated decisions.

 

Until that happens, every unexplained suspension sends the same troubling message to LGBTQ+ creators: your years of work, your audience and your livelihood can disappear at the click of an algorithm—with little explanation and even less accountability.

 

Some affected creators have suggested filing complaints through the Digital Services Act framework in the European Union, including with their national Digital Services Coordinator, as one avenue for challenging moderation decisions where applicable. Whether that process proves effective remains to be seen.

 

What is already clear is this: if Big Tech wants creators to trust artificial intelligence with decisions that affect careers and communities, then AI cannot become an unaccountable black box. Technology should protect free expression, not repeatedly place marginalized communities in the position of having to prove that simply existing, travelling, speaking or sharing their lives is not a policy violation.

 

This seems to be just one more battle for us to fight. But fortunately for us, this ain’t our first time at the rodeo.