When TikTok Shop launched in the United States, sellers discovered something rare: a platform that could send their products viral without charging them a cent. For a while, that promise delivered. Handmade goods, quirky snacks, and niche fashion items found unexpected fame, powered by an algorithm eager to experiment. For small business owners, it felt like a digital gold rush.
Now, that rush has ended.
In 2025, the organic reach that once fueled overnight success on TikTok Shop has nearly vanished. Sellers who built their storefronts around viral momentum are finding themselves squeezed. To get views now, merchants increasingly rely on paid promotions, not luck.
That change didn’t happen all at once. Throughout 2024, TikTok’s support for unpaid exposure began to wane. This year, the shift accelerated. Several agencies working with the platform noted a sharp decline in traffic for unpaid content. Even TikTok insiders admitted the company has scaled back its free amplification of seller videos.
Small business owners, once drawn by the platform’s cost-free visibility, now face a tougher reality. Where once the algorithm might have pushed a clever product into millions of feeds, today’s sellers must treat TikTok as an advertising channel. If you're not funding your reach, you’re likely falling behind.
The pivot reveals something deeper about the platform’s evolution. Early on, TikTok Shop depended on free boosts to build excitement. It needed to prove it could move products. But now, as it matures, the company is aligning itself more closely with traditional e-commerce structures. It wants to look more like its Chinese counterpart, Douyin, or even Amazon—platforms where advertising isn’t optional, it’s fundamental.
Beyond the pullback on traffic, other perks are fading too. Free shipping, once a major draw for sellers and customers alike, quietly disappeared this year. Internal reports suggest TikTok’s leadership has grown frustrated with its U.S. commerce results. Struggles in sales, combined with global economic pressures and new tariffs, have pushed the company to recalibrate.
This recalibration comes at a delicate time. TikTok faces regulatory uncertainty in the U.S. after lawmakers passed legislation requiring ByteDance, its Chinese parent, to divest or risk a ban. That looming threat has already pushed some sellers to explore emerging markets like Mexico and Brazil, where TikTok appears more eager to subsidize growth.
Still, not every door has closed. Certain brands—especially those operating in strategic categories or launching in priority regions—may still see their content lifted. Internal staff can request limited boosts for selected accounts, and some promotional campaigns remain in place. But for the average seller, betting on a viral moment has become a losing game.
What once looked like an e-commerce revolution now feels more familiar: a crowded, competitive ad marketplace. For creators and companies who jumped in early, TikTok Shop offered a rare window of free opportunity. But that window has shut. And the cost of staying visible is climbing fast.
Image: DIW-Aigen
Read next: AI Could Replace Jobs, But DeepMind Chief Believes New Roles Will Emerge
Now, that rush has ended.
In 2025, the organic reach that once fueled overnight success on TikTok Shop has nearly vanished. Sellers who built their storefronts around viral momentum are finding themselves squeezed. To get views now, merchants increasingly rely on paid promotions, not luck.
That change didn’t happen all at once. Throughout 2024, TikTok’s support for unpaid exposure began to wane. This year, the shift accelerated. Several agencies working with the platform noted a sharp decline in traffic for unpaid content. Even TikTok insiders admitted the company has scaled back its free amplification of seller videos.
Small business owners, once drawn by the platform’s cost-free visibility, now face a tougher reality. Where once the algorithm might have pushed a clever product into millions of feeds, today’s sellers must treat TikTok as an advertising channel. If you're not funding your reach, you’re likely falling behind.
The pivot reveals something deeper about the platform’s evolution. Early on, TikTok Shop depended on free boosts to build excitement. It needed to prove it could move products. But now, as it matures, the company is aligning itself more closely with traditional e-commerce structures. It wants to look more like its Chinese counterpart, Douyin, or even Amazon—platforms where advertising isn’t optional, it’s fundamental.
Beyond the pullback on traffic, other perks are fading too. Free shipping, once a major draw for sellers and customers alike, quietly disappeared this year. Internal reports suggest TikTok’s leadership has grown frustrated with its U.S. commerce results. Struggles in sales, combined with global economic pressures and new tariffs, have pushed the company to recalibrate.
This recalibration comes at a delicate time. TikTok faces regulatory uncertainty in the U.S. after lawmakers passed legislation requiring ByteDance, its Chinese parent, to divest or risk a ban. That looming threat has already pushed some sellers to explore emerging markets like Mexico and Brazil, where TikTok appears more eager to subsidize growth.
Still, not every door has closed. Certain brands—especially those operating in strategic categories or launching in priority regions—may still see their content lifted. Internal staff can request limited boosts for selected accounts, and some promotional campaigns remain in place. But for the average seller, betting on a viral moment has become a losing game.
What once looked like an e-commerce revolution now feels more familiar: a crowded, competitive ad marketplace. For creators and companies who jumped in early, TikTok Shop offered a rare window of free opportunity. But that window has shut. And the cost of staying visible is climbing fast.
Image: DIW-Aigen
Read next: AI Could Replace Jobs, But DeepMind Chief Believes New Roles Will Emerge
