Bryce Hall is a relic of the TikTok dance age. Now, he’s on stage with Donald Trump.
He’s part of the late-2010s crowd of (mostly young) male influencers who have recently embraced the right. Logan Paul, once a vlogger known for his subversive content, recently had Trump on his podcast. FaZe Banks, a popular streamer of the era, said that Trump had “aura on absolute max.”
“The Trump campaign is trying to appeal to young people,” says Trevor Boffone, a lecturer at the University of Houston, “so they’re getting the most popular TikToker they can find who will go with them.”
The conservative turn of “brofluencers”
Hall has 23 million TikTok followers, and Banks serves as CEO of the popular gaming group, FaZe Clan. Logan and brother Jake Paul maintain a combined 44.3 million followers on YouTube. Masculinity was often central to their content: They all posted shirtless frequently, and had influencer girlfriends who laughed at their jokes. Hall and both of the Paul brothers even now have side hustles as professional boxers.
Meanwhile, many Gen Z men are feeling emasculated. Two-thirds of Gen Z men agree that “no one really knows me well,” per the gender-focused nonprofit Equimundo, and think pieces abound about the masculinity crisis. This makes Gen Z a prime voting population for Trump—and they happen to be watching the TikTok brofluencers.
Jordan Foster, a research fellow at McMaster University who studies online masculinity, is skeptical of just how effective these endorsements will be in turning out voters.
“While Jake and Logan Paul—and others who craft content in this vein of masculine-meets-ridiculous sport—are well followed and certainly persuasive, their major audience demographic is one with which Donald Trump already polls well,” Foster writes in an email to Fast Company. “Namely, by young men and by white men, especially.”
Still, the endorsements have juiced these brofluencers’ engagement. Hall’s recent videos bashing Kamala Harris and touting Trump’s achievements are some of his highest scoring, with the clips regularly garnering over five million views. On Friday, Hall even joined Trump on stage to tell the cheering audience that “we need Trump back, really bad.” His oversize pink hoodie showed Hall’s TikTok roots; his red MAGA hat showed his political future.
Logan Paul has undergone a similar arc: Seven years ago, YouTube videos like “REPLACED MY BROTHER’S CLOSET WITH 1,000 PAIRS OF SOCKS!” regularly racked up more than 10 million views. Within the last year, though, he’s only had two YouTube videos reach more than three million views: One was a recap of his experience with MrBeast, a more popular account; the other was his interview with Trump.
The politics of influencing
The internet is full of MAGA influencers; a whole conservative media ecosystem has popped up around Trump, part of which is on TikTok. The difference, then, is Hall and the Pauls’ pre-MAGA fame. They didn’t build their brand on political content—they veered right after they were already famous.
That’s especially surprising considering the state of influencer politics. Most big-name YouTubers and TikTokers stay silent about their politics. Some, like Hall’s ex-girlfriend, Addison Rae, have endorsed Harris.
“Typically, celebrities and social media personalities skew Democrat,” the University of Houston’s Boffone says. “Even among conservative content creators, there has been a hesitancy to attach themselves to Trump.”
Still, these brofluencers of the 2010s are starting to don their red MAGA hats. With that choice, they’re getting boatloads of views—and hate comments.