Politicians have always relied on the power of personality, but when they start being ‘consumed’ like celebrities, does that change how we perceive them?
Scroll through TikTok long enough, and you may find an Andy Burnham edit sandwiched between a football montage and clips of your favourite celebrity. Dramatic music plays over old footage, quick cuts make him appear effortlessly charismatic, and the comments read more like a fan page than a political discourse. It is the visual language we normally associate with actors, musicians, and influencers, except the man on our screens is now the Prime Minister.
Of course, TikTok did not invent personality politics, but it has changed where political personalities are built. A fan edit of Andy Burnham can now sit comfortably between football highlights, clips of your favourite celebrities and videos from friends, all competing for the same precious seconds of your attention. Music, memes, and carefully chosen archive footage can turn almost any politician into something oddly familiar than just another faceless name on the ballot paper. And this is arguably more than politics adapting to social media platforms as another access point. Increasingly, political figures such as Nigel Farage and Donald Trump are being treated like personalities to follow, edit, or obsess over — sometimes before viewers have seriously considered what they actually stand for.
Politics Gets Personal
In modern politics, gaining attention increasingly means learning how to behave like an influencer. The most vivid recent example of the shift from ordinary politician to celebrity is Andy Burnham. The first week of his premiership reportedly saw a 73 per cent jump in his TikTok following as his team embraced short, personality-driven videos designed specifically for the platform. One post announcing a £2 bus fare featured the viral ‘Bus Aunty,’ attracting more than two million views. Other videos used memes, influencers and informal behind-the-scenes footage to pull in the crowds. It was clear that Burnham wasn’t simply putting political announcements online. His team was packaging everything into short-form, easily digestible and entertaining content that’s highly shareable and helps build a loyal audience.
But political fandom itself is not new. During the 2015 General Election, then 17-year-old Abby Tomlinson helped propel Ed Miliband’s popularity by founding ‘Milifandom.’ This was an online community devoted to Ed Miliband which produced memes, fan art and affectionate posts while pushing back against hostile coverage of the then Labour Leader. Academics described it as a moment when the language of fandom collided with political participation. TikTok, however, has intensified this collision. Political content is now built around music, movement, and algorithmic recommendations, allowing a politician’s personality to shine through visually, similar to any other celebrity.
The Power of the Edit
A 2025 study suggests that clever edits can do more than entertain. Researchers Kevin Munger and Valerie Li showed more than 2,000 participants TikTok-styled edits of Donald Trump and Joe Biden, including ‘thirst trap’ videos designed to make them appear attractive and ‘badass’ edits portraying them as more powerful or impressive. The thirst trap edits increased perceptions of attractiveness, while both types of Trump edits also marginally improved his overall favourability. Crucially, the same favourability effect was not present for Biden, suggesting that it takes more than a slick edit to win votes. However, what is clear is that playful content often influences our perceptions of political figures.
This matters because TikTok can make politicians appear unusually familiar. Viewers see them joking, reacting to trends, speaking directly into the phone or camera, all of which accentuates that informal setting so often absent in traditional political commentary. Over time, these reality-style updates can create a very real impression that we know the person behind the politics. None of this means that voters become less critical. If anything, the personality effect can backfire when a politician does something unexpected or seen as atypical to the image we have of them. But viewed through TikTok’s carefully curated lens, practically any political figure can become more relatable and likeable.
Ultimately, a politician’s likeability can sway undecided voters. This is especially true when multiple parties offer similar policies. Small, seemingly irrelevant personality differences or behavioural quirks can pivot voters towards thinking, ‘I might vote for X.’
Fans or Voters?
Getting someone interested in a politician is not necessarily the same as getting them interested in politics.
In an ideal world, TikTok would not be necessary to gain voters’ attention. But as things are, political fandom remains useful, even if only as a short-term solution. A funny clip, meme or fan edit can introduce someone to a politician they would otherwise have ignored. It can even encourage you to engage meaningfully with an opposing political perspective. The real danger comes when fascination stops at personality and voters end up basing their decisions on what they think they know about a politician from their short-form videos. This is when charisma overshadows reality — something that became apparent during Boris Johnson’s brief premiership.
Historically, politicians have always sold an image of themselves. What TikTok changes is how close we feel to that image. Carefully edited clips can make a political figure seem humorous, familiar and even friendly long before we have read their manifesto or questioned their professional track record. This doesn’t necessarily mean that political fandom is meaningless. On the contrary, it can encourage debate and democratic participation, especially when it comes to voters who remain on the fence.
However, democracy works best when our attention is held by something more tangible than a charming personality. Charisma can make us pause scrolling, but it should not decide what happens at the ballot box. Politicians may increasingly seek fans as well as voters, but voters still have a responsibility to know the difference.
DISCLAIMER: The articles on our website are not endorsed by, or the opinions of Shout Out UK (SOUK), but exclusively the views of the author.
Freddie Amy
Freddie Amy is a Media, Journalism and Publishing student at Oxford Brookes University. His interests include media, politics, technology and society, with a particular focus on the forces shaping young people’s lives.
