Influencers are pandering to conservatives to salvage their post-cancellation careers

In an Instagram video posted on his account last month, former Hype House member and influencer Tayler Holder sits on a stool wearing a T-shirt that says “Jesus Loves You.” “A lot of you probably don’t know much about me,” he tells an off-screen audience. “You’ve seen a small part of my life on a screen and always kind of known me as that TikTok kid.”

But, as always, the comments tell another story. “All of the sudden you have an accent now,” one user wrote “wasn’t this dude tryna be gangsta like last year,” added another. 

Holder’s rebranding as a country singer has long been a point of confusion and mockery to viewers. After the TikToker was accused of sexual assault in January 2022 (which he denied) and was then thrown in a high-profile feud with other members of the Hype House, he underwent an image makeover. Now, he posts about Christianity, country music, and his love of  assault rifles. 

Holder’s image rehab, while jarring, isn’t exactly unique. Creators who experience controversy are finding redemption online by embracing right-wing values and aesthetics. After fitness influencer Brittany Dawn was sued by the state of Texas in 2023 for deceptive marketing practices, she quickly rebranded to become a Christianity influencer, selling meet-and-greet faith weekends. Similarly, Meredith Foster, who first rose to fame as a beauty and lifestyle YouTuber, slowly began transitioning towards Christianity-focused content as drama between her former creator friends soon became a vortex of controversy for her increasing dissemination of antiabortion, homophobic, and transphobic information. (It didn’t help matters that her mother appeared at the January 6th Capitol riots.) By the time she collaborated with Dolce & Gabbana in 2021, she was also a full-fledged Christianity influencer, posting sermons and religious literature recommendations videos on her YouTube and TikTok.

All across the internet, influencers who face criticism for their actions have begun to salvage their careers by turning to so-called “traditional values” (or “trad” in internet parlance). This content genre espouses conservative Christian values, typically earmarked by feminine modesty and homemaking, as well as an adherence to the gender binary. Searches for “tradwife” have continued to spike, hitting peaks at both the beginning and end of last year, according to Google Trends, and hashtags like #christian and #christiansoftiktok have attracted billions of views on TikTok.

Brand strategist and cultural theorist Jennifer Chang says that facing criticism in the public eye means that public figures can only take a few routes to try and bounce back.

“When creators are ‘canceled’ they have a couple of choices: take responsibility, double down, or pivot,” Chang says. “Genuinely apologizing and acknowledging wrongdoing requires a level of introspection and humility that a lot of people simply aren’t equipped for with the amount of cognitive dissonance in their views, and so instead they double down or pivot.”

It’s become increasingly common, to the point that users have started to notice patterns of right-wing beliefs poking through several mainstream trends. Many have also pointed out the many seemingly unrelated lifestyle trends that have connected, rabbit hole-like, back towards conservative belief systems, such as the coquette trend, the soft pink aesthetic of bows and frills that went viral on TikTok, Godwin’s Law, and the crunchy-to-alt-right pipeline. 

The fact is, it doesn’t really matter what these influencers believe. Holder has not yet openly endorsed a conservative candidate or shared his views on topics such as abortion rights or open-carry laws. But putting on the bells and whistles typically associated with conservatism attracts the followers who identify with these things—and ultimately, the values they subliminally project.

Its impact then translates towards their viewers’ beliefs. The Hill reported in July last year that high school boys were trending conservative, while young women were moving politically left. More 16-year-old boys in the U.K. had heard of conservative podcaster and convicted human trafficker Andrew Tate than Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, nonprofit Hope Not Hate found last year.

Jamie Cohen, an assistant professor of media studies at CUNY Queens College, tells Fast Company that since 2016, the development of politics online have allowed the genre of conservative pandering influencers to explode.

“During the Trump presidency, there was a distinct normalization of trad accounts in general,” Cohen says. “Facebook’s algorithm leaned into suggesting trad accounts, and the coded messages became a new dog whistle for the far right. The appeal is that trad influencers still play the ‘taboo’ card and ‘persecuted’ card while becoming wildly successful.”

From a marketing perspective, these accounts tend to prey upon nostalgia, a highly effective advertising tool, especially among Gen Z users. The ideals of so-called girlboss feminism have worn off in the cultural eye, replaced by images of a stay-at-home girlfriend who bides her time drinking coffee and coming up with crafts projects.

“They’re relying on that comforting ideal, that picture of a golden age where the problems we have today didn’t exist,” Chang says. “Of course, this was a time that was good for one specific type of person—white and male—and that’s what these types of nostalgia traps all fail to mention.”

Social media has also become increasingly passive and algorithm-dependent, as tools like infinite scrolls and personalized feeds mean users are less wary about the content they’re being fed. Nieman Lab shared data last June that the number of active news consumers was declining, down 11 percent since 2016.

“Young people, Gen Z in particular, were not given the proper tools, media literacy, or internet literacy, during the stay-at-home period and online influencers really took advantage of their vulnerability,” Cohen said.

Financially, this pivot can still be mainstreamed, which can make an instrumental difference in engagement and revenue. Cohen points to the press coverage of tradwife influencer Estee Williams as an example of how influencers are still able to maintain a foothold in the attention economy. Williams has always been a part of the conservative content machine, but further cemented the idea that this style of content could be a refuge for influencers who have been cancelled and seek a rebirth online. “This pivot is lucrative because it isn’t your typical hate account,” he says. “Trad influencers leaned into ‘success’ and ‘hustle’ while simultaneously giving ‘hope’ through faith-based practice, but are really just performing it.”

Income outside of ad revenue—most notably, the channels of sponsorships and independent merchandise—can also still be salvaged. Any product can be sold when the platform is a value system, not limited to category or commodity. Influencers have sold Christian activewear, homeopathy and “holistic health” kits, hair styling products, and skincare. From October until December last year, Holder embarked on a tour with country singer Dylan Scott throughout the U.S., and has announced upcoming shows in February. 

“Trad influencers can lean into the Christian nationalist realm of Etsy and drop-shipping sloganed shirts, clothing, and cheap art,” Cohen says. “Their endorsements are similar to other midrange influencers, and I’m sure they profit pretty well with their gifts and endorsement deals.”

“There’s nothing wrong with faith, but we need to increase confidence and knowledge around the influencers who are taking advantage of the genre and reproducing some pretty regressive tropes that hurt people,” Cohen says.