Small-dollar donors were supposed to save democracy. Reformers had hoped that grass-roots political fundraising — connected by the internet and united against corruption — would become a formidable force to counter the money that wealthy individuals funnel to candidates.
This has manifested in different ways depending on the party. For Republicans, small-dollar donors have bankrolled bomb-throwers who treat Congress like the Thunderdome. For Democrats, they have wasted hundreds of millions of dollars on ridiculous, fantasy-driven campaigns. And even when they flood a race with cash, they do little to lessen the influence of big donors.
Let’s start with Republicans, for whom the problem is more troubling. Grass-root donors in the party have rewarded anti-establishment firebrands and conspiracy theorists who specialize in televised political stunts. Just take a look at the top recipients of small donations:
Some of these Republicans — such as Rep. Young Kim, who gathered funds in a tough fight to defend a purple seat — aren’t exactly “firebrands.” And party leaders such as House Speaker Kevin McCarthy and Republican Conference Chair Elise Stefanik, of course, are expected to rake in big and small checks for their party.
But many candidates on this list — including Reps. Marjorie Taylor Greene (Ga.), Jim Jordan (Ohio), Lauren Boebert (Colo.), Matt Gaetz (Fla.), Byron Donalds (Fla.) and Harriet Hageman (Wyo.) — have all won over small donors by pandering to far-right causes and embracing former president Donald Trump’s lies that the 2020 election was stolen.
As Eitan Hersh, a Tufts University associate professor of political science, told me, small donations often come in response to a big moment. For example, he referenced Joe Wilson, the South Carolina congressman who infamously yelled “you lie” during President Barack Obama’s 2009 joint session of Congress — and subsequently raised more than $3 million in small donations.
Today’s top GOP fundraisers learned from Wilson’s example. Greene saw a fundraising spike after she tried to impeach President Biden on his first day in office and another when her antisemitic, conspiracy-theory-laden social media posts surfaced and she attempted to cast herself as the victim. Gaetz’s biggest fundraising days of 2023 came in early January — when he helped turn McCarthy’s speaker election into a multiday circus. These lawmakers play to the GOP’s worst instincts — and grass-roots donors love them for it.
Democratic small-dollar donors present a different problem. While many of them strategically give to candidates in close, high-stakes races, too frequently they waste unthinkable sums of money trying to force high-profile Republicans out of safe seats.
Amy McGrath is the perfect case study. The Kentucky Democrat had almost no chance of beating Senate GOP leader Mitch McConnell in deep-red Kentucky. Yet small-dollar donors sent her more than $56 million.
This was a terrible strategic investment. McGrath went on to lose to McConnell by 20 points. But as Hersh put it, donors were willing to contribute to her because she made them feel good. He added, “You get to imagine a fantasy. Wouldn’t it be great, if you’re a liberal, if Mitch McConnell lost?”
McGrath isn’t unique. The list of the top Democratic small-dollar fundraisers is full of candidates that had no hope of winning:
Together, McGrath, Jaime Harrison of South Carolina, Val Demings of Florida and Tim Ryan of Ohio wasted almost $200 million small dollars on races that were at best long shots and in many cases were outright unwinnable. Add in the likes of Marcus Flowers, who raised $16 million running against Marjorie Taylor Greene, and other Democratic candidates, and that total rises even higher.
Despite all this small-dollar cash, the ultrarich remain just as powerful as ever. In the 2020 election, Joe Biden and Donald Trump received $543 million and $347 million, respectively, in donations less than $200. But they still kept courting the wealthy. Both men used joint committees to solicit six-digit checks at tiny, exclusive fundraisers. And they welcomed help from super PACs, outside groups that can raise and spend unlimited sums.
The story is the same in marquee down-ballot races. Candidates who rake in small-dollar donations still receive plenty of money from big donors.
There are a rare exceptions in which grass-roots donors gave strategically and pushed back against the interests of the ultrawealthy. Small donors helped Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, a committed campaign finance reformer, make two serious runs for the Democratic presidential nomination. And Republican voters can thank small-dollar donors for helping boost Trump over Jeb Bush, the avatar of GOP big money, in 2016.
But in most elections, small-dollar donors don’t connect online to wage war on moneyed interests. They donate to scratch an emotional itch. And by doing so, they make real-life politics more like the internet: hospitable to trolls, indulgent of political fantasy and deeply exhausting.
