How Right Wing Influencers Infiltrated The Government

Right-wing influencers are fanning out across America

spreading misinformation and provoking confrontations.

No longer just commenting on politics online.

They're now partnering with the government

to drive politics.

And in some cases even becoming

government officials themselves.

So, how did we go from mommy bloggers

to the president's propagandists?

Let's trace the rise of political influencers in America.

This is Trendlines.

They come from digital platforms,

not the government or traditional media,

and they use their audience's loyalty

to fuel political narratives,

all while profiting off of the outrage.

They aren't just online personalities anymore.

They're part of how power actually works

in Washington and beyond.

To understand how we got here, we need to rewind.

Let's go to the timeline.

Long before social media,

a few Americans were already shaping politics

by going around institutions

and speaking straight to the public.

Possibly the first political influencer in American history

is Thomas Payne, whose 1776 pamphlet Common Sense

goes viral by 18th century standards

and pushes public opinion toward independence from Britain.

In 1831, abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison

prints own newspaper.

No party, no publisher, and no compromising.

His writing helps radicalize the abolitionist movement

and forces slavery into the national conversation.

In the 1930s, there's Father Charles Coughlin,

a Catholic priest with a radio show

pulling in tens of millions.

He starts out populist and anti-Wall Street,

then slides hard into right wing anti-Semitic politics.

God hates the hypocrites.

No party affiliation affiliation,

just big personality and anger, which feels very familiar.

Let's fast forward to 1988.

Laying the blueprint for today's political podcasters,

Rush Limbaugh goes national,

pulling in millions of radio listeners and ad dollars

by attacking liberals and mocking the press.

His formula works,

spawning an entire right-wing AM radio ecosystems.

Presents Obama and the Democrats.

Is that not sick?

In August of 1999, Live Journal and Blogger

make online publishing user friendly

and dramatically lower the barrier

to getting your personal ramblings out to the world.

A few writers do start building real repeat audiences,

especially in niche topics like tech and gadgets.

This is the moment people start

to realize they can get attention at scale

because an audience is out there, no one's getting paid,

but soon that's going to change.

In March, 2003, as the US invades Iraq,

blogs like the Daily Costs

and Talking Points Memo built huge audiences

by questioning Bush administration claims.

For the first time, outsider voices

compete with the mainstream news media,

which at the time largely went along

with the official government story.

In 2007, YouTube starts sharing ad revenue with creators.

Attention finally pays.

Posting videos stops being just for fun

and becomes a job for many.

Your audiences can now be monetized directly.

Instagram launches in 2010,

shifting influence from text to image.

The influencer now has a recognizable face.

Personal aesthetics replace blogging

and tweeting for building audience and trust.

By now, the term influencer

has entered mainstream business language,

but it's more mommy blogs and lifestyle signaling

and not politics yet.

Then in 2012,

18-year-old Charlie Kirk starts Turning Point USA.

Built explicitly for social platforms,

its campus-based influencer pipeline

eventually trains college students

to crank out content for Facebook and YouTube,

turning campus politics into viral debates.

In the days before the election,

creators like Mike Cernovich

and Jack Posobiec amplify the Pizzagate conspiracy theory,

which falsely alleged the Clintons were tied

to a child trafficking ring.

The conspiracy explodes across socials.

Eventually, a man who said he believed the theory

brings a rifle to Comet Ping Pong in Washington DC

to investigate it.

He fires one shot before being arrested.

In 2017, the Twitter Presidency begins.

Trump posts everything on the platform,

policy, trolling, breaking news.

Even the transgender military ban appears first on Twitter,

forcing newsrooms to treat a President's personal feed

as a primary source.

The politician becomes the feed

and the feed itself becomes a story.

This is the moment that right-wing influencer ecosystems

really start consolidating

around personality driven content, monetization through ads,

subscriptions, and merchandise and constant distribution

through social platforms rather than legacy media.

For example, Laura Loomer,

she storms a House hearing with Twitter, CEO Jack Dorsey

shouting about anti-conservative bias.

It goes viral, not just because of the protest,

but because Representative Billy Long,

a former auctioneer, literally auction calls over her

until she's escorted from the room.

500, 525, 550, I yield back [all laughing].

Just a month before, Facebook, YouTube, Apple,

and Spotify all boot InfoWars off their platforms.

The fringe conspiracy brand has grown

into a huge mass political influence machine

and it's making Silicon Valley queasy.

Presidential candidate Bernie Sanders does the unthinkable,

skips cable news and sits down

with the biggest podcast on earth.

Democrats panic about legitimizing Rogan,

who was dabbled in vaccine skepticism.

But the message is clear,

podcasts are powerful enough

to scare the party establishment.

In March of 2020,

COVID hits and campaigns move fully online.

Biden, a classic retail politician loses his advantage

so his team scrambles to adapt to the new reality

where shaking hands and kissing babies is no longer a thing.

By the way, who remembers Biden's Animal Crossing Island?

During his 16 hour Twitch marathon on election night,

progressive streamer Hassan Piker

peaked at about 230,000 viewers

hinting at a shift in the way younger generations

consume political news.

In late 2020, influencers pushed disproven claims

that the election was stolen.

So, why do fraud narratives spread so easily

in creator ecosystems?

Maybe it's because influencers feel authentic.

They speak directly to loyal audiences

who trust them more than traditional media,

and that momentum carries us straight into January 6th.

Right-wing creators like Baked Alaska

live streamed themselves breaching the capitol in real time.

The insurrection unfolded through social feeds

before news networks caught up.

We voted for Trump, we want Trump.

We want Trump.

In early 2021, the Biden administration

revamps the Office of Digital Strategy

and starts briefing influencers directly,

coordinating creator campaigns

to promote domestic policy initiatives

like vaccines and student debt relief.

This is the first formal integration of influencers

into the White House infrastructure.

While Democrats quietly connected with creators,

the right was packing a stadium show.

In December, Turning Point's AmericaFest,

a four-day conservative conference

complete with pyrotechnics and sponsorships.

Right-wing influencers like Charlie Kirk

are entertainment products.

This is the moment the GOP eclipses the Democrats

when it comes to influencers.

Turning Point USA and PragerU trained, paid, booked

and plug influencers right into their party ecosystem.

Democrats never build a true counterpart.

After buying Twitter in October, 2022,

Elon Musk rolls out creator monetization tied to engagement,

basically incentivizing outrage.

Accounts posting more and more

inflammatory political content begin earning money

directly from platform chaos.

After October 7th, 2023,

TikTok becomes one of the main battlegrounds

for Israel- Palestine narratives.

Through explainer's, clips and hot takes,

millions of young users

are getting the war through their FYP.

From pro-Palestinian influencers like

Hasan Piker and Bisan Owda,

politicians including Marco Rubio

claim the platform is brainwashing Americans

to favor the Palestinian cause,

but TikTok denies bias in its algorithm.

A month later,

the FEC updates its rules for the digital age,

ignoring influencers entirely.

They're not required to disclose paid political posts.

So, heading into an election year,

it's basically the Wild West.

On September 4th, 2024,

the DOJ alleges Russian operatives

secretly funded a Tennessee based media company

to push pro-Kremlin messaging about Ukraine.

Reporting by Reuters and others

Identify the outlet as Tenet Media,

which allegedly paid creators including Tim Poole,

Dave Rubin, and Benny Johnson,

who say they didn't know the funding traced back to Russia.

The following month,

Trump hosts the Nelk Boys for an episode of their podcast

on Trump Force One, Donald's private jet.

This was orchestrated by advisor Alex Bruesewitz,

political consultant and top advisor to Trump,

widely credited as the architect

of the campaign's podcast strategy.

In just days later, Trump goes on Rogan

and Kamala Harris doesn't.

It's the biggest podcast in the country.

Millions listen in, mostly young men

and nothing was fact checked.

After winning the election,

Trump brings Dana White, CEO of UFC

and Manisphere influencer on stage

during his victory speech, validating them as king makers.

Nobody deserves this more than him

and nobody deserves this more than his family does.

[crowd cheering]

Just days after the election,

Pew Research drops a study that finds

that 37% of adults under 30

now say they regularly get news

from influencers on social media.

Influencer live streams covering election night

like that of Dan Bongino

outperformed cable news among under 35s.

Bongino's podcast might as well have been auditions

for the incoming Trump administration

because he'd become the Deputy FBI Director

only a few months later.

Chorus, the closest attempt at

a Turning Point style operation by the Democrats

emerges right after the 2024 election

and is torn to shreds when its reported creators

are being paid without disclosure.

The difference here is cultural.

On the left, undisclosed influence is disqualifying.

On the right, it's no big deal.

Meta announces that it will end

its third-party fact-checking program

on Facebook, Instagram, and Threads in the United States.

If you recall, during Trump's first term,

Meta poured millions into fact-checking

and got dragged nonstop by claims of anti-conservative bias,

so they cut their losses angering Democrats

while curing favor with the GOP.

In March of 2025,

Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem

cosplays as an influencer and films inside

El Salvador's, Cecot Prison.

With cinematic shots, direct to camera messaging

she delivers policy for the feed rather than the press.

You come to our country illegally

this is one of the consequences you could face.

But this is a feature, not a bug

for the content obsessed Trump administration.

Trump's entire cabinet is filled with podcasters

and former cable TV hosts.

Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth

introduces strict new limitations

on Pentagon press access,

leading to the removal

of the traditional Pentagon Press Corps

like the Washington Post and Bloomberg.

They're replaced by new hand-picked

and mostly politically aligned influencers

who now solely cover the Pentagon.

Influencer Nick Sortor

films at Portland ICE facility protests.

Things escalate when he is allegedly assaulted by protesters

and subsequently arrested by Portland Police

on a charge of second degree disorderly conduct.

The charges were later dropped.

The Trump administration uses Nick's Sortor's footage

to justify sending National Guard members

to the ICE facility in Portland.

Plans to bring in additional guardians

are halted the same day by an emergency court order.

Influencer Nick Shirley posts viral videos

alleging Somali daycare fraud in Minnesota.

The videos are boosted by Elon Musk

and JD Vance on social media

and cited by the Trump administration

to justify the subsequent surge of ICE raids in the state.

A few days into 2026, Venezuelan President Nicholas Maduro

is scooped up by the military and flown out of the country.

With the Pentagon Press Corps sidelined,

influencers rush in to break the news

and shape the story in real time.

Instead of focusing on the operation or its global fallout,

people like Turning Point USA's Monica Paige

focuses on an old 2020 Joe Biden tweet

that said Trump admires thugs and dictators.

In January, Benny Johnson arrives in California,

followed by Nick Shirley.

Once again, Shirley claims to be investigating

Somali-run childcare centers in California.

See the pattern?

Trump-aligned influencers show up in blue cities,

float unproven fraud claims tied to immigrants

to drum up outrage online.

Then Trump floods the area with ICE.

As one senior White House official told Wired,

California and New York are next.

Just as the internet has redefined

what it means to run a business or become a celebrity,

it's also reshaping our politics.

Creators from across the political spectrum

have amassed a new kind of power

away from traditional gatekeepers like the mainstream press.

Since the start of President Donald Trump's second term,

that shift has only accelerated

with creators scoring Pentagon press credentials

and sit-down interviews,

which are once reserved for the legacy media.

The question is no longer

whether political influencers matter,

but whether our institutions are ready

for what could come next.

[logo chiming]