In 2024, Fandom Conquered the World

From MAGA to Moo Deng, fans had more power in 2024 than ever before.
A photo illustration of Moo Deng standing next to a singing Chappel Roan.
ILLUSTRATION: GRAPHICS BY JAMES MARSHALL; WIRED STAFF; GETTY

On September 28, Bowen Yang performed one of 2024’s most resonant pieces of political theater while dressed as a pygmy hippo.

Yang was behind the desk on Saturday Night Live’s “Weekend Update” segment, dressed like Moo Deng, who at the time the show aired was the internet’s current fave. What he was saying, though, sounded more like comments by pop star Chappell Roan, who’d recently taken to social media to ask fans to be more respectful about approaching her in public or saying inappropriate things to her online. “Do not yell my name, or expect a photo, just because I’m your parasocial bestie, or because you appreciate my talent,” Yang said, encased in a rubbery Moo Deng costume.

The bit was played for laughs, but in 2024, the actions of fans—to each other, to the people they’re fans of, to the world at large—entered a whole new phase. More than half a century after John Lennon observed that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus, fandom, fueled by ever-churning social media platforms, has taken on a shape beyond religious furor.

During the US election, it was evident in the manosphere and MAGA hats. Also, in Vice President Kamala Harris’ embrace of the “brat” ethos. In pop culture, it was Taylor Swift stan accounts leaving X for Bluesky over frustrations with Elon Musk’s involvement in president-elect Donald Trump’s campaign. It was also the return of Gamergate, manifesting in a whole new harassment campaign against diversity and inclusion efforts in video game development. It was Kendrick Lamar turning his beef with Drake into a community event in Los Angeles.

Across mediums and interests, being a fan of someone or something didn’t just mean buying a T-shirt or a movie ticket, it meant choosing a side.

Superfans, Supersized

According to Simone Driessen, an assistant professor of media and popular culture at Erasmus University Rotterdam, 2024, more than anything, marks another year in which people acknowledge, or even reconcile with, the fact that fans have real power.

“The MAGA moment, for me, has its roots in the January 6 moment. It was almost as if they were cosplaying a coup—but it was very real and with very real consequences,” she says. “Brat summer, Swifties for Harris—they are attests, to me, of how these fannish skills one builds through being a fan (from hunting Easter eggs to creating a community) can also be politically valuable.”

Proof of this is everywhere. As my colleague Makena Kelly wrote this year, 2024’s campaign cycle was the influencer election. People with cameras, microphones, and large followings became, she wrote, “tastemakers, meme sharers, video creators, and organizers; they also wield significant power when it comes to encouraging their followers to vote.” People like Twitch streamer Hasan Piker and conservative YouTuber Ben Shapiro had the power to affect what happened at the polls. Whether or not a candidate did Joe Rogan’s podcast became headline-making news. (Trump did; Harris didn’t.)

Fandom’s influence on the world stage wasn’t just apparent in the US. In South Korea, protesters shouting for the removal of President Yoon Suk Yeol after he declared martial law in December have been doing so with lights and Christmas decorations. As the AP reported just a few days ago, labor unions and political parties have led the demonstrations, “but unlike previous protests, the forefront was left to the young with their light sticks and K-pop songs.”

Still, it was in the US that fandom’s influence on everything felt most astute. As Aja Romano wrote for Vox at the beginning of the year, people don’t just vote for Trump, they stan him—in a way that’s not that different from Beyoncé fans. While that might seem like an oversimplification, Romano wrote, “in both subcultures, the rise of social media echo chambers has fomented toxicity, extremism, and delusional thinking.” Disinformation and zealotry, then, serve to “distort and fracture our shared sense of reality, all in the name of what devotees believe to be a higher cause.”

It doesn’t help that more and more people get their news from social media—the same platforms where they share memes and theories about which song selections on Swift’s Eras Tour have secret meanings. According to a Pew Research Center report released in September, 54 percent of US adults get their news from social media at least some of the time, a bump from previous years. Facebook and YouTube tend to be their top sources—about a third of Americans report regularly getting news on each of these two sites—but 20 percent of respondents said they get news from Instagram, 17 percent on TikTok, and 12 percent on X.

When catching up on world events coincides with catching up on what Chappell Roan wore onstage last night, it makes sense that both forms of community engagement would live on equal footing.

Speaking of Roan, she and Yang made up. Some fans accused Yang of mocking Roan with his “Weekend Update” sketch after it aired. He flatly denied that was his intention, and when Roan appeared as the musical guest on SNL—the weekend before the election—the singer-songwriter held his hand during the show’s final goodbye as if all was well. If anything had ever been wrong at all.

Following Trump’s victory in the US election, the fandom didn’t really quiet down. The manosphere claimed a victory, and the brats and Swifties started taking a look at the platforms on which they were spending their time. Lots of folks have been leaving X for Bluesky. Fandom, it seems, is reentrenching.

To understand this, look no further than the shooting death of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson in New York City in early December. In the hours following his death, a fascination grew around who his assailant might be, what the motives were. Lots of Americans have strong feelings about health care in the US—specifically feelings about health insurance companies like UHC. Many of those feelings wound up being projected onto Thompson. After police arrested suspect Luigi Mangione, fascination with him continued. Across TikTok, Instagram, X, and other platforms, interest in him intensified. Merch, fanfic, ballads popped up everywhere. What will happen in his case is still unknown. What will happen with his fandom will be a prelude of what’s to come.