Your Favorite Influencer Might Be Getting Paid For Political Takes—And That’s Not The Worst Part

Your go-to lifestyle creator has to legally disclose every free lip gloss she receives. Miss that #ad label on a $20 skincare product? That's a potential $50,000+ fine from the FTC. As seen in Evie’s reporting on influencer dietitians and paid food partnerships, not even the healthiest creators are immune from complicated disclosure rules.

But when that same creator posts passionate takes about voting rights, healthcare policy, or student loans for thousands in monthly payments? Zero disclosure required. Completely legal, totally hidden from you.

We've created a system where selling lip gloss requires military-grade transparency, but selling political candidates requires none whatsoever.

Taylor Lorenz's recent WIRED piece, A Dark Money Group Is Secretly Funding High-Profile Democratic Influencers "exposed" liberal influencers receiving payments through The Sixteen Thirty Fund, sparking outrage among creators who say she's smearing them while they lose followers over the controversy. But Lorenz, who left the Washington Post after misleading editors about her own social media conduct, completely missed the bigger story.

Most people have no idea this is even happening across the political spectrum. Political influence campaigns are paying creators, conservative and liberal, through standard business arrangements that often include NDAs, just like any other industry. If it's not illegal, can you really blame creators for operating within the current legal framework?

The real question is whether lawmakers should change disclosure laws so you have a right to know about political funding, just like you do for commercial content.

The Regulatory Black Hole

The Federal Trade Commission aggressively polices commercial influencer content, but explicitly states they "don't have jurisdiction over political advertisements." The Federal Election Commission recently decided they won't regulate political social media influencers, either.

So, political influence operates in a complete regulatory vacuum. Commercial influence? Regulated in detail. Political influence? Anything goes.

We've created a system where selling lip gloss requires military-grade transparency, but selling political candidates requires none whatsoever.

Under FTC rules, influencers must disclose any "material connection"—payments, free products, relationships, even discounts. The language has to be clear like #ad or #sponsored, can't be buried in hashtags, and must appear in the video itself.

These aren't arbitrary rules. They exist to ensure audiences know when they're being sold something. Even A-list celebrities aren't exempt—Kim Kardashian was fined $1.26 million by the SEC for failing to disclose she was paid to promote cryptocurrency. But, that logic disappears when it comes to political opinions.

When Nobody Knows the Rules

The problem isn't creators being deceptive; it's a system where even well-intentioned people can't follow rules that don't exist.

The Tenet Media scandal proves this perfectly. Russian operatives allegedly created an elaborate fake European businessman and used shell companies to funnel nearly $10 million to American conservative influencers, including Tim Pool, Dave Rubin, and Benny Johnson.

The creators say they had no idea about Russian involvement and thought they were working for a legitimate investor. But here's the key question: even if they had wanted to disclose their funding source, what were they supposed to say? "Political content on social media has no disclosure requirements."

These creators appear to have been genuine victims of an elaborate deception. But their audiences had zero way to evaluate any potential conflicts because we don't require basic transparency for political content.

Nearly 2,000 videos reached over 16 million views. One contract allegedly included $400,000 monthly plus a $100,000 signing bonus. For perspective: commercial influencers must disclose free products worth $10.

What "Dark Money" Really Means

"Dark money" is just political spending through nonprofits that aren't required to disclose donors. The Sixteen Thirty Fund distributed over $400 million in 2020 from four anonymous major donors. Conservative groups use similar legal structures.

Recent contracts include standard NDAs, similar to business arrangements across many industries. The difference is that commercial partnerships require disclosure regardless of NDAs, while political partnerships operate without any disclosure framework at all.

The issue isn't that dark money exists—both parties use it. The issue is that there's no legal requirement for political content disclosure, period.

The Absurd Double Standard

Here's the absurdity: the same legal framework that exhaustively regulates commercial content treats political content as exempt.

FTC guidelines mandate that commercial disclosures be "clear and conspicuous," up front, using language anyone can understand.

Meanwhile, traditional political ads on TV and radio must include "Paid for by..." disclaimers identifying exactly who funded the advertisement. You know when you're watching a campaign ad versus a PAC ad versus a dark money group's ad.

But pivot to influencer political content, and both sets of standards disappear, even for content that reaches millions of people.

The justification is that political speech deserves maximum protection. Fair enough. But disclosure isn't censorship; it's information. Transparency doesn't restrict what creators say; it tells audiences who's paying them.

Beyond Partisan Theater

This affects creators and audiences across the spectrum. Conservative fans don't know who's behind establishment GOP talking points. Liberal ones don't know if progressive creators are backed by donor networks.

The principle transcends politics: audiences deserve baseline information about financial relationships that might influence the content they consume.

Even with regulation, most commercial influencer content isn't disclosed properly. Relying on voluntary political disclosure is fantasy.

What Actually Works

Texas recently required any paid influencer to disclose political content for payments over $100. Simple rule, clear enforcement, and it's already working. The Texas Tribune covered the commission's 7-0 vote implementing the new requirements.

Professional journalism has long required disclosure of funding relationships that might bias coverage. The principle isn't complicated: audiences deserve to know about potential bias sources.

The Enforcement Reality

Perfect enforcement isn't possible. But current "technology-neutral, platform-agnostic" rules mean there's little accountability for anyone.

Practical solutions exist. Federal reforms could establish thresholds, tie disclosures to platform ad databases, and focus on the largest operations, not individual posts.

Should We Demand Disclosure?

You can evaluate biased content when you know it's biased. The problem isn't influencers having political opinions, or even getting paid to share them. The problem is consuming sponsored political content while believing it's authentic personal opinion.

Whether funding comes from PACs, nonprofits, or foreign governments, transparency serves democracy. Right now, you have more legal right to know who paid for coffee recommendations than political ones.

That's not defending free speech—it's defending wealthy interests' ability to secretly shape public opinion through purchased authenticity.

You deserve basic transparency about who's funding political content in your feed. Not because political influence is inherently bad, but because you're capable of weighing sponsored opinions accordingly when you know they're sponsored.

The Journalist Problem

Here's where it gets interesting: the people calling for influencer accountability often operate with less transparency than the creators they criticize.

Take Taylor Lorenz, whose recent WIRED piece highlighted some of these payment structures. Lorenz left The Washington Post in October 2024 after an internal investigation into her misleading editors about an Instagram post where she called President Biden a "war criminal." When the post became public, she initially denied making it and told editors someone else had added the caption. NPR confirmed with four sources that the post was authentic, and she later admitted she had shared it. The Washington Post lost trust in her for the deception, not just the original post.

Lorenz was also caught in the Bark Phone controversy, having promoted a surveillance phone for children while allegedly failing to disclose her relationship to the company—then tried to gaslight critics about whether her content was sponsored at all.

Journalists like Lorenz cash in on book deals, speaking gigs, documentary spots, and leverage their platforms for personal profit while reporting on the same industries they're embedded in. Yet, they're never required to disclose their own agency relationships, side deals, or financial incentives while creators get investigated for standard business arrangements (Reddit reaction.)

If we're serious about transparency, anyone shaping public opinion should disclose relevant conflicts and political relationships (RTDNA Code of Ethics, Society of Professional Journalists,) not just when it's convenient.

The Bottom Line

The line between journalist and influencer is already blurred. Both shape public opinion for money. Both have financial incentives that could influence their content. But only one group faces calls for "accountability" while the other maintains the authority to decide who gets canceled.

The conversation about political disclosure is worth having. But it should apply equally to everyone influencing public opinion, not just the creators that traditional media gatekeepers want to control.

You deserve transparency about who's funding all political content in your feed, whether it comes from influencers or journalists. The public has a right to know who's getting paid, who's connected, and who's pulling the strings behind both the content and the headlines.

Until that happens, media exposés are just tools for the powerful to maintain control, and you shouldn't buy the spin from either side.

Disclosure: The author settled litigation against Taylor Lorenz for defamation, in which the author accused Lorenz of defamatory reporting and having undisclosed conflicts of interest that compromised her journalism.

Ariadna Jacob exposes media manipulation tactics and crybully behavior patterns on her YouTube channel. For more breakdowns on how "experts" exploit their readers and weaponize victim narratives, subscribe for weekly breakdowns.