In an election season in which both parties sought out any possible edge, Democrats clung to one seemingly clear-cut advantage: Celebrities including Taylor Swift and Bruce Springsteen broke hard for that party, even as voters did not.
President-elect Donald J. Trump had his own famous supporters, drawing from a more masculine cohort, with figures like Kanye West and Mel Gibson, as well as less mainstream acts like Kid Rock and Jon Voight, also weighing in with their endorsements. The result was a split-screen of American celebrity — two sets of famous people for two halves of the country. But by and large, the biggest names in entertainment said Vice President Kamala Harris should be elected to the nation’s highest office.
In the end, it did not seem to matter much.
Ms. Harris was decisively defeated on Tuesday, despite the backing of a megastar like Beyoncé.
On the singer’s Instagram page, one commenter put it succinctly.
“America is tired,” wrote Albert Pennachio, an independent voter who lives in Statesville, N.C. “And we don’t care what celebrities think anymore.”
It wasn’t always this way: Celebrity endorsements used to seemingly carry substantial weight, with influential figures like Oprah Winfrey helping to magnify lesser-known candidates (such as Barack Obama in 2008). But that sway seems to have lessened as influencers, onetime “micro”-celebrities and podcasters like Joe Rogan — a former comedian with amorphous, largely libertarian political views — have gained bigger audiences. (Mr. Rogan endorsed Mr. Trump on Monday, but only after some 80 million people had already voted early.)
Chris Lehane, a former Democratic political consultant who worked in the Clinton White House, said that the move away from following celebrity viewpoints was part of a broader, generational shift from traditional means of communication and advertising toward a more fluid, fast-moving cultural landscape.
“It is actually the more digitally native influencers who are able to leverage their status, content and distribution channels that move the needle,” Mr. Lehane said.
Glen Bolger, a veteran Republican pollster, said that voters always like it “when a celebrity reinforces your own view by endorsing the candidate you support.”
“But that doesn’t mean it changes anybody’s minds,” he added. “If you’re a Trump supporter and a celebrity endorses him, well, that’s a smart celebrity, right? If you’re a Trump supporter and they endorse Kamala, well, I’m still going to watch their movie or their concert, but I’m not going to listen to their political advice.”
Add to that a general fatigue with celebrities — who, by their nature, are not like you or me — and their political views may not matter. You might buy a ticket for a Taylor Swift show, after all, but you don’t have to punch the ticket for her preferred candidate.
Indeed, William F.B. O’Reilly, a Republican strategist, said that endorsements by some celebrities may actually drive voters in the opposite direction.
“Celebrity endorsements say a lot: they say you’re a liberal, an elitist, and a cultural progressive,” Mr. O’Reilly said. “An Oprah or Clooney endorsement is the kiss of death in large swaths of the country now.”
Of course, the reasons for any vote, in any election, are myriad and personal. But using the preference of the famous as a guide for the general public’s mood — or voting inclination — seems to be a losing proposition.
Perceptions of Elitism
Janice Min, the chief executive of Ankler Media and former president of The Hollywood Reporter and Billboard, said there wasn’t much question what effect Ms. Harris’s celebrity surrogates had on the race.
“They did not work,” she said Wednesday afternoon, adding an expletive, and referring to a list that includes Beyoncé, Mr. Springsteen, Ms. Winfrey, Jennifer Lopez and Bad Bunny.
On one hand, Ms. Min said, Ms. Harris spent the better part of the summer and the fall sending out the message that a second Trump presidency would involve him bending at the knee of his fellow billionaire businessmen. On the other, she’d been anointed as the Democratic nominee by party leaders without a proper primary process, after which she aligned herself with the types of surrogates who can ignite resentment because of how much more money they have than most of their fellow citizens — and during an election in which most voters cited the economy as a top concern.
“She couldn’t get the endorsement of the Teamsters, but she got the endorsement of Hollywood,” Ms. Min said. “That’s a tough message for a lot of voters. It was a show of dazzle in an election where clearly people were not looking for dazzle.” — Jacob Bernstein
Fame Outside of Hollywood
The Trump campaign’s roster of traditionalist celebrity endorsers were an older, mostly white bunch. They included the wrestler Hulk Hogan (who memorably tore his shirt asunder at the Republican National Convention), the erstwhile “S.N.L.” actor Rob Schneider and the actor Jon Voight. Yet this group captures little of how the Trump campaign actually leveraged star power to bring home a victory. Instead of courting conventional actors or artists, the campaign broadened its definition of what a celebrity is.
In Mr. Trump’s world, podcasters, spurned television show hosts and Silicon Valley entrepreneurs turned right-wing pundits like Elon Musk were the focus. His aim was to permeate the internet enclaves where M.M.A.-loving, crypto-curious guys congregated. Mr. Musk, Tucker Carlson and the U.F.C. founder Dana White (a star in his own right with nearly 10 million Instagram followers) spoke at his rallies, and in the late stages of his campaign, Mr. Trump appeared on Joe Rogan’s podcast, the Kick streamer Adin Ross’s channel and the Nelk Boys’ podcast. Some of these figures are as affluent and powerful as their Hollywood counterparts, but their supporters still seem to see them as relatable and grass-roots. — Jacob Gallagher
Trump as a Sui Generis Celebrity
Of course, the biggest celebrity involved in the 2024 presidential election was running for office. Mr. Trump’s political career has in some ways obscured the fact that he is an enormous star and a consummate entertainer: charismatic (at least to his supporters), ubiquitous and with an army of fans that includes a comfortable majority of American voters.
A former reality TV star and a longtime tabloid fixture, Mr. Trump has an eye for self-branding that has supercharged his rise through American politics, from the afternoon he descended a golden escalator in 2015 to the moment he paused after a would-be assassin’s bullet nicked his ear to create most indelible image of this campaign season.
His defiant reaction roused his followers and drew admiration from figures across the political spectrum. It revealed, yet again, Mr. Trump’s great showman’s instinct; he is, on our national stage, un-upstageable. When you have that, who needs A-listers to vouch for you? Maybe Mr. Trump knew that A-listers would have drawn too much attention away from him — or maybe he’s got a sixth sense for the national mood. — Joseph Bernstein
The Limits of Taylor Swift
On the eve of the election, some noticed the conspicuous absence of one pop star, even among hordes of others: Taylor Swift. After Ms. Swift spoke out in support of Ms. Harris on the night of her debate against Mr. Trump — delivering a coveted endorsement that her opponent falsely claimed for himself a month earlier — Democrats rejoiced over what seemed like a surefire boost to Ms. Harris’s campaign, particularly with young voters.
But though Ms. Swift has the ability to command legions of fans, crash ticketing websites and shape entire countries’ economies, her influence on political outcomes appears more limited, and some are beginning to wrestle with the idea that Ms. Swift herself (as well as other celebrities of her stature) may not want to be a political voice. In an article for the Cut published on Monday, the writers Olivia Craighead and Danielle Cohen observed that rather than heading to Pennsylvania to campaign for the vice president, Ms. Swift “spent Monday night at a football game in Kansas City, cheering on her boyfriend.”
Still, the hope that Ms. Swift’s appearance in Scranton or elsewhere on the campaign trail could have made a substantial difference for Ms. Harris now looks much like the hope that any single force could have stopped Mr. Trump’s victory: probably misplaced.
— Marie Solis
The Issue With Vogue
In 2016, Vogue broke a 100-year precedent, and endorsed a candidate for president: Hillary Clinton. But despite the endorsement; despite the fact that Anna Wintour, the magazine’s editor, is a powerful fund-raiser; and despite the fact that Mrs. Clinton had already been on the cover as a first lady and had been profiled during the 2016 Democratic primary, as her party’s nominee, she did not do a cover again.
Ms. Harris, however, did.
She actually appeared on Vogue’s cover twice: once in 2021 as vice president, and last month on the “digital” cover as the Democratic nominee, along with the cover line “The candidate for our times.”
You can understand the decision. Ms. Wintour is the closest thing to a celebrity editor the magazine industry has. Vogue is a star-making platform, with an Instagram following of 50.1 million, and a print circulation of over 1.2 million. That’s a lot of potential voters. And the issues that affect women’s lives are part of the magazine’s remit. But its power has been eroding along with its stranglehold on the industry, as voices from all kinds of backgrounds offer their own definition of style. And while fashion may be a universal language, it does not always translate well when it comes to politics, especially for a candidate claiming to understand the economic pain facing many Americans.
After all, how do you believe someone is attuned to the rising price of milk when they are featured in a glossy that includes handbags that can cost more than some people’s monthly rent? Despite the fact Annie Leibovitz took Ms. Harris’s portrait, that might have been a very risky look. — Vanessa Friedman
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