For decades, journalists brought the latest to citizens from newsrooms and television studios. Today, commentary pieces and live streams on YouTube and viral TikToks predominate in our media ecosystem.
Influencers—once dismissed as unserious entertainers—have de facto become the new media class. They are the new op-ed page, the new prime time, and, crucially, the new battleground where hearts and minds are won or lost. Unsurprisingly, governments and well-financed interest groups couldn’t help but notice.
From Fourth Estate to For-Hire Hack
In the United States—ever the trendsetter—in particular, the boundaries between partisan influence and influencer independence are dissolving rapidly. One example which vividly comes to mind is that of the Chorus Creator Incubator, launched in 2025 by the liberal Sixteen Thirty Fund. It paid influencers up to $8,000/month to spread Democratic Party talking points, complete with content guidance and contractual gags that prevented criticism or unauthorised endorsements. Critics rightly accused it of laundering political advertising through the illusion of ‘authentic’ commentary. Whatever it was, it wasn’t journalism.
While this strategy mimicked the freewheeling right-wing influencer ecosystem, it backfired spectacularly. The content felt stilted, corporate—and worse, dishonest. The influencer-as-authentic-voice unraveled the moment audiences sensed coordination going on behind the scenes. What began as a sleek partisan strategy ended up resembling the kind of top-down messaging that influencers were once supposed to disrupt.
But such clumsiness is not universal. Other actors are far more subtle—and sinister.
From Propaganda to Pseudo-Press
In 2024, the US uncovered a sprawling Russian disinformation network known as Tenet Media, which covertly funneled $10 million into a Tennessee-based conservative influencer operation. Public figures including Tim Pool and Dave Rubin were drawn into the network’s orbit—often unwittingly—serving as distribution nodes for Kremlin-friendly narratives. The goal? Not ideological conversion, but destabilisation: to amplify division, heighten distrust, and collapse the US public’s shared reality.
Elsewhere, the Network Contagion Research Institute found that Jackson Hinkle—an online personality with millions of followers—was simultaneously parroting narratives in sync with Russian, Pakistani and Houthi propaganda campaigns. Hinkle denied having been paid by foreign actors. But whether knowingly or not, he has become a sort of geopolitical Swiss army knife—wielded by hostile actors to smear the West, amplify conspiracies and muddy the informational waters.
Influencers Are the Media Now
What’s becoming increasingly clear is that influencers are not just part of the media ecosystem—they are the ecosystem, especially for younger generations. For millions under 35, ‘the news’ comes not from legacy outlets but from charismatic personalities on YouTube, Instagram and X.
They don’t just report—they frame. They editorialise. They become trusted narrators of political reality, replacing cable news anchors and newspaper columnists. And unlike traditional outlets (which admittedly are anything but perfect), they are lightly regulated, centred around one charismatic personality, and dangerously opaque when it comes to financial or ideological backers.
The implications are profound. Just as 20th-century governments sought to sway or steer the press, 21st-century regimes and PACs are targeting the digital bards of our time: the influencers.
Implications for the Global Media Landscape
The rise of influencer-as-media shifts the entire epistemological foundation of journalism. First, editorial standards will see further steady erosion: Traditional outlets at least paid lip service to verification, ethics, and retractions. Influencers answer to algorithms, not ombudsmen. Fact-checking is a vibe, not a rule. Secondly, influencers face no requirement to disclose when they’re paid by political parties, think tanks or even foreign governments. And lastly, influencers thrive on polarisation and often cater to niche ideological tribes. This fosters echo chambers far more potent than cable ever did. The result is not simply bias—it’s epistemic fragmentation. Each side doesn’t just disagree; they live in different realities.
Globally, these trends are magnified in countries where press freedom is already precarious. In authoritarian states, the influencer model offers both a bypass and a backdoor: bypass traditional media to reach audiences directly; use influencers as backdoors for soft propaganda campaigns. In fragile democracies, unregulated influencer media can accelerate democratic backsliding by flooding the zone with tribal narratives and conspiracies.
What Comes Next?
The future, then, is a sobering one. As regulators catch up, some form of registration may become mandatory for influencers who receive political payments. Think ‘foreign agent’ laws applied to TikTokers. Expect a backlash from influencers who (sometimes rightly) view this as censorship. But to their paymasters, there is an obvious solution to that particular problem of mandatory registration. Why pay a person when you can generate a convincing digital avatar? Deepfakes with ChatGPT‑powered scripts could soon replace human influencers entirely. China and Russia are already experimenting with synthetic news anchors. Others will follow.
Fragmentation will only deepen. Rather than a shared media space, we may see audiences coalescing around ideologically consistent bubbles where one set of influencers defines the political worldview. Like cable news networks, but with parasocial intimacy and far less accountability.
Yet, as fake news and paid shills flood the infosphere, a new premium will be set on trust. Outlets or influencers that can demonstrate independence, transparency, and editorial integrity—perhaps verified by third parties—will gain disproportionate power.
The rise of influencer media marks both a collapse of what was and an opportunity for creating something new. Traditional journalism is not dying because people don’t want news. It’s dying because people want news with personality, and feel a sense of belonging. Influencers offer that. But in doing so, they also open the gates to manipulation—by parties, by money, by states.
If influencers are the new press, the question for democracies is: who’s influencing the influencers?
Statement
The influencer has seemingly overtaken the journalist. Once avatars of authenticity, influencers now read from partisan scripts, as they deliver foreign narratives and algorithm-fed half-truths to millions of minds on a daily basis. From US-funded content farms to Kremlin-linked propaganda rings, the line between commentary and covert operation has evaporated. Legacy media's decline isn't just about technology—it's about trust, intimacy, and control. As digital personalities replace newsrooms, the public square fractures into echo chambers. The question is no longer whether influencers shape opinion, but who writes their lines—and whether democracies can withstand information wars of such a scale.