Chicago: Last month, Kristin Brey, a podcaster, radio host and newspaper columnist, attended the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee as a credentialed journalist. She set up shop in a dank hockey arena, jostled in scrums with reporters for interviews and often could not get access to the floor of the convention hall because there was not enough space.
This week, she traveled to Chicago for the Democratic National Convention, under a new title. No longer labeled a journalist, Brey was now a “content creator” — better known as an influencer — and it proved to be a sizable upgrade.
She and other creators got face time with Gwen Walz, the wife of Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, aboard a private boat on Lake Michigan; they were treated to tiki bar parties and catered rooftop luncheons; they had exclusive access to two private lounges and a penthouse suite in the United Center that were stocked with free food and alcohol; and many were offered one-on-one interviews with some of the Democratic Party’s biggest names. Some of the influencers, although not Brey, received free airfare and hotel rooms.
Three of them interviewed Vice President Kamala Harris, who has not sat for a mainstream media interview since becoming her party’s nominee for president.
The two experiences were “wildly different,” noted Brey as she stood in a special box made for influencers on the convention floor Tuesday night.
The treatment was part of an elaborate and unprecedented campaign to flood social media with positive messages about Harris and Walz as they accepted their party’s nominations this week. Democrats treated influencers like celebrities, hoping that free stuff and copious access in Chicago would reap buzzy posts on Instagram, TikTok or YouTube, the primary sources of news for a crucial, and growing, slice of voters.
Some 200 content creators were given the special passes to the convention — a credential akin to those given to members of the news media but with additional benefits. (By contrast, the party credentialed some 15,000 journalists, who pay for their workspace and accommodations.) Progressive nonprofits and other outside groups picked up the travel tab for many of the influencers, while underwriting an itinerary of daytime panels and nighttime soirees, as well as an abundance of swag.
Republicans are also using influencers to make inroads among the highly online. At their party’s national convention last month, more than 70 influencers were credentialed, and former President Donald Trump has sat for interviews with a number of social media stars.
Both parties sees influencers as the best conduit to young millennial and Generation Z voters. Critics say their expanding role is blurring the line between journalism and advocacy.
Unlike Brey, most of the creators who attended the Democratic convention do not consider themselves journalists and have set no code of ethics or independence. Their currency is attention, which is how they accumulate followers, and many earn income by promoting commercial products to them.
This week, the product was Harris.
John Wihbey, a professor of journalism and media innovation at Northeastern University, said it made sense that the party would reach out to influencers.
“In some ways, this is long overdue considering how fast the culture moves. You get exposure to a key demographic that the party absolutely has to turn out,” he said. “But it’s assumed that they will carry the water the party wants them to, and if organizers aren’t distinguishing between them and journalists, that would be a mistake.”
The passes distributed to influencers this week, like those given to journalists, identified attendees as “producer,” “editor” or “reporter.”
Emily Soong, a spokesperson for the Democratic National Convention said that “Democrats value a free press, and our convention is a reflection of that.”
Jeremy Jacobowitz, a New York-based food influencer whose posts about gut-busting food from around the world have earned him more than 800,000 followers between TikTok and Instagram, said he would never call himself a reporter. He openly supports Democratic candidates, has posted pictures of himself with President Joe Biden and was tickled to receive an invitation to come to the convention as a credentialed creator.
So when organizers offered Jacobowitz one-on-one interviews with a parade of public figures, he jumped at the chance. For an hour on Tuesday night he asked politicians: “If you could describe Kamala as a dish and/or Trump as a dish, what would it be?”
“I know why they want me here,” Jacobowitz said. “I’m not here to ask any embarrassing questions.”
Before coming to Chicago, credentialed creators were emailed lists of Democratic surrogates available for interviews, and each night influencers were given time on the “blue carpet” inside the United Center where politicians such as Gov. Andy Beshear of Kentucky and Stacey Abrams, a former candidate for governor of Georgia, posed for selfies.
Carlos Eduardo Espina, who has more than 10 million followers on TikTok and posts in Spanish, recorded a conversation with Harris on Tuesday, asking her to make her case for why Hispanics should vote for her. The next night, Espina spoke about immigration from the main stage at the convention. The vice president spoke on camera with two other influencers this week, according to the campaign.
On Monday, more than 150 of those creators clambered aboard the Spirit of Chicago, docked at Navy Pier. Gwen Walz mingled and posed for selfies before sending them off on a three-hour “Creators for Kamala Yacht Party.” The Harris campaign paid for the event, which was closed to the press. Guests included Meena Harris, the vice president’s niece.
Deja Foxx, an influencer and abortion-rights advocate, arrived for the party wearing Prada head to toe — sent to Chicago by her agency, Ford Models. She has some 200,000 followers across TikTok and Facebook.
“This is so exciting,” Foxx said, heading up the gangplank.
Since then she has posted several videos spotlighting her outfits (she declined one of the camouflage Harris-Walz hats being handed out), including the three-piece Argent pantsuit she wore when she addressed the convention on Monday. “This is going to be the most important outfit video I make this entire convention,” she said in the video.
In her remarks, delivered from the creators’ box on the convention floor, Foxx talked about reproductive rights and student debt, proclaiming that “we need Kamala Harris.” On Tuesday, she hosted a party, Hotties for Harris, that drew Rep. Maxwell Frost of Florida and David Hogg, a gun-control activist.
The Harris campaign said it did not directly pay influencers for content. But other Democratic groups do pay for posts, typically providing talking points or other guidelines. Depending on the reach of the creator, payments can be as little as $50 or, in some cases, tens of thousands of dollars.
Nicholas Kitchel, the director of digital partnerships at the Hub Project, a progressive nonprofit, said that the group funds some campaigns that pay influencers for content. He said paying creators was part of a strategy aimed at the “democratization of media.” His group does not require that influencers disclose their sponsorship, he said.
This week, the Hub Project covered the travel expenses for 22 creators and paid for a rooftop lunchtime party with an open bar on Tuesday. Good Influence, which calls itself an influencer advocacy network, covered the travel costs of 25 other creators who were in Chicago this week.
Kitchel said the goal of such efforts was to “build community.”
With more than 32 million followers on TikTok, 16 million on YouTube and another 3 million on Instagram, Merrick Hanna was not just one of the biggest creators at the convention this week — he also ranks among the largest influencers in the world. But at just 19 years old, he was too young to go to the late-night events organized for creators this week.
Hanna, a former contestant on “America’s Got Talent,” said he was surprised to get an invitation to go to Chicago because his content — almost exclusively videos of him dancing — is completely nonpolitical.
Hours before the first speaker took the lectern on Tuesday night, Hanna and his father, Shawn, who traveled with him, were roaming the second level of the United Center, filming a series of dance moves that they planned to stitch together into a post.
The elder Hanna said that they hoped to use their presence at the convention to encourage people to vote, but that they did not want to “get political” by endorsing any particular candidates or party for fear of turning off followers with different views.
Still, he mused, “it would be great to do a livestream with AOC,” using the initials for Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y.
At the other end of the spectrum, influence-wise, was Abbie McAdams, a recent college graduate from Colorado who runs a nonprofit that advocates broader access to menstrual products. She said she was shocked to get a creator credential since she had a very small online following.
“Somehow they decided to let a 21-year-old girl with only 200 followers on TikTok go to the Democratic National Convention,” McAdams posted online last weekend. “I’ll literally be in the same place as the press with access to people like Kamala Harris, Tim Walz” and others in the party.
McAdams paid her own way to Chicago, she said in an interview, and tried to make the most of her time in Chicago, rushing from event to event and posting nearly in real time about all she observed. Although she did not have a chance to interview the Democratic nominee for president, she said, she had some star-struck moments — meeting other influencers.
“Being able to meet Deja Foxx in person and have a conversation with her was special,” McAdams said.