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30 July 2024

Kamala Harris, Brat, and the political meme paradox

When politicians try to join in on the joke, they end up killing it.

By Sarah Manavis

What makes a politician good at social media? Slick, professional content? Successfully appearing “cool” to younger demographics? Or a strict refusal to use social media at all? 

For more than a decade, we have heard political experts debate the influence social media has on elections. Some claim it can be used to connect to hard-to-reach swing voters or foster grassroots movements, others insist its power is significantly overstated. We watch as politicians scramble to put out laboured content, hoping to court voters with fleeting internet trends, be it “funny” videos or nonsensical memes their in-house social media teams claim will connect with digital natives. But the resulting posts usually seem desperate and stiff, and ultimately fail to connect meaningfully with potential voters. 

But in 2024, is that about to change? We are glimpsing a sudden social media frenzy around a politician that has been met with approval from younger demographics in Kamala Harris’ newly launched US presidential campaign. Harris has gained a cult social media following since she ran for president in 2019, after videos showcasing her idiosyncratic speaking style, bizarre quotes (particularly about coconut trees), her personal obsessions (Venn diagrams) and her distinctive laugh went viral. Not all of this was affectionate – it would be safer to say most of this content was generated by those who actively disliked her politics, but found her personally entertaining. However, over the last month, this has shifted into something closer to fandom: a hype machine that appears genuinely energised and excited at the prospect of her presidency. Videos of Harris clipped to songs from Charli XCX’s heavily meme-d album, Brat, talking about her taco order and dancing badly have received millions of views on X and TikTok. Former critics began describing themselves as “KHive”; others promoted Harris as a “​​Kamala-nomenon”; Charli XCX tweeted hours after Harris announced her presidential bid that “kamala IS brat”. 

This was an unprecedented example of organic support for a candidate generated by voters, not politicians. However, the Harris campaign was quick to try to capitalise on the moment, changing their social media headers to adopt Brat aesthetics; making TikToks using Brat songs and imagery (the campaign also began churning out other content related to popular trends, such as memes set to the pop star Chappell Roan’s song “Femininomenon”). The @KamalaHQ X account changed its bio to read “Providing context”, an apparent nod to Harris’ aside that “you exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you” – possibly the most viewed clip of Harris on social media. Quickly, many former fans began to retreat, saying the content around Harris “was fun while it lasted”, comparing it to Hillary Clinton’s failed attempts to connect with younger demographics in 2016. For many, it was the first step in turning something fun and organic into something corporate and staid.

Harris’ team is falling into an obvious social media trap: attempting to turbo-charge online hype when doing so is a guaranteed way to burst that bubble. But they’re not the only one. JD Vance – the Ohio senator and Donald Trump’s vice presidential pick – is beloved by online culture war obsessives for his evangelising about the Rust Belt in his memoir Hillbilly Elegy, and for railing against anything which could be vaguely deemed as “woke”. Appealing to a demographic of right-wing voters who care about these subjects, and with aptitude to court online hype, he appears a smart choice for Trump. 

But since Vance has been selected, the limitations of social media fame have begun to show. Rather than coming across as an expert on important voter issues, or especially charismatic, Vance’s in-person public appearances have been a tour of stilted speeches met with muted enthusiasm and awkward silences. The social media schtick has, so far, failed to translate to the real world, making Vance appear to his base – for the first time – not as an everyman, but as an out-of-touch politician. 

Success on social media requires at least the appearance of authenticity and organic growth. Any affectation will almost always work against a social media user and kill off any existing momentum, especially in politics. Both Harris and Vance don’t come across like people harnessing grassroots campaigns, but two people trying clumsily to capitalise on something they don’t fully understand, leaving any voters who engage with them on social media feeling cringed-out and alienated.

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The consequences of this are real. There’s arguably been no politician better at harnessing online hype than Donald Trump – a native X user who didn’t adapt his social media behaviour to bend to the frenzy around him, who remains cherished among his base without spoiling the fun for his fans. This is important factor in an election in which Trump has (until recently) led every major poll testing the outcome in November.

At this stage, the momentum isn’t unsalvageable: Harris in particular, with renewed energy around her, could rein in her campaign’s social media content and let organic hype flourish without intervention. Since the flurry of meme content in the days after her campaign announcement, her social media presence has been comparatively traditional, pushing campaign ads and promoting her public appearances and speeches. She’s also gone to cultural events like Comic-Con, and appeared on RuPaul’s Drag Race: All Stars. These are shrewd opportunities for fans to create content without the Harris campaign having to make any more Brat-themed TikToks. 

Harris has been presented with an exceptional opportunity – becoming an interloper in that context will only help to squander it. We are still demystifying what makes a politician popular online. But we know what doesn’t work – and how rarely campaigns can court internet hype without destroying it. 

[See also: Can Kamala Harris save America?]

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