‘Not the billionaires’: why small-dollar donors are Democrats’ new powerhouse
For a significant stretch of the 2016 Democratic primary, Bernie Sanders’ political “revolution” thrived on donations that averaged $27, or “twentyseven dollahs”, as the senator said so often during the campaign that it became a call-and-response and a joke on Saturday Night Live.
With fundraising emails asking for as little as $3 and the tagline “paid for by Bernie 2016 (not the billionaires)”, the campaign established a gold standard for small-dollar fundraising.
Three years later, Sanders raised a remarkable $10m from more than 350,000 donors in the week after launching his 2020 presidential campaign. The average contribution was roughly $27.
As the Democratic party’s presi
dential hopefuls embrace Sanders’ populist appeal, that rejects the influence of big money in politics, they are increasingly turning to “average” Americans – teachers, nurses and librarians – to underwrite their campaigns and remain competitive in a crowded field.
“Small-dollar donors are going to be the most important constituency on the Democratic side,” said Erin Hall, the executive director of ActBlue, an online fundraising platform that allows grassroots donors to give easily to Democratic candidates.
“They are your top supporters,” she added. “They are also the same folks who are marching, who are protesting, who are calling their representatives, who are going to tell their friends about your campaign, who will show up at your office and go canvassing.”
The emphasis on small-dollar donations is a shift from the way candidates have traditionally raised money. Candidates traditionally raise money by hosting big-ticket fundraisers for large groups of donors or spending hours calling wealthy individuals for money, a practice known as “call time”. This not only cuts into the time candidates or lawmakers could spend on the campaign trail or with constituents but, critics say, gives the donor class and special interest groups an outsized influence on the electoral process.
Since 2004, these modest, online contributions have been a test of grassroots strength. But increasingly small-donor networks have become an important – and renewable – source of revenue for Democratic candidates.
The ability to tap these donors is seen as so essential to the goal of making Trump a one-term president that the Democratic National Committee has established a grassroots fundraising threshold to participate in the party’s televised primary debates: each candidate must receive contributions from at least 65,000 unique donors, with a minimum of 200 people in 20 states.
In 2018, Democrats rode a grassroots wave fueled by anger at Trump’s election to take a new House majority in the 2018 congressional midterm elections.
In last year’s election cycle, ActBlue sent more than $1.6bn to Democratic candidates and causes – a figure Hall expects to double in 2020.
“The ceiling on how many people can be a part of your small-dollar program is limitless,” she said, predicting that the eventual Democratic nominee would need “at least half of their money coming from small-dollar donors”.
The extent of each candidate’s fundraising strength will be clearer after the campaigns file reports with the Federal Election Commission (FEC) next month. But already some candidates have grabbed headlines with impressive fundraising hauls.
California senator Kamala Harris raised $1.5m from 38,000 online donors on the first day after announcing her presidential campaign. Minnesota senator Amy Klobuchar, a Democrat from Minnesota, and former Colorado governor John Hickenlooper, each reported earning $1m in the first 48 hours of their campaigns.
“Candidates raising millions of dollars on their first day tells us that Democratic primary voters are pretty excited for the process to get going,” said Teddy Goff, a top digital strategist for Barack Obama in 2012 and Clinton in 2016.
The challenge for Democrats now will be standing out in a crowded field of candidates targeting similar donors.
Online donors will receive emails, texts, ads and social media posts from candidates asking for money. The appeals are often written in the candidate’s voice with a personal touch – a photo, meme or friendly subject line.
“The successful campaigns aren’t trying too hard to be innovative – they’re trying to be authentic,” Goff said. “They are invested in making people feel empowered and part of something that’s bigger than themselves.”
The rise in small-dollar contributions also comes as Democrats escalate their battle against big money in politics.
Campaign finance reform was a galvanizing issue for Democrats last election cycle. In 2018, Democrats as ideologically apart as Conor Lamb, a moderate representing a suburban-rural district in Pennsylvania, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a Democratic socialist representing an liberal urban district in the Bronx and Queens, and dozens more in between, pledged not to accept money form corporate political-action committees.
Though some critics say the pledges are largely symbolic – corporate-pac donations account for only a small percentage of total contributions for incumbents and even less for first-time candidates – they tap into the growing public frustration over the role of big money in politics since the supreme court’s 2010 Citizens United decision opened the door for limitless spending on elections.
“Voters want to know whose side you’re on,” said Adam Bozzi, a spokesman for End Citizens United, a group that advocates for campaign finance reform. “This is one way to demonstrate that you’re putting people first.”
A 2018 study by the Pew Research Center found that there is overwhelming – and bipartisan – support for reforming campaign finance laws. More than three in four Americans believe “there should be limits on the amount of money individuals and organizations” can spend on political campaigns.
For the Democrats running for president in 2020, how they raise money is a much a test of their politics as their policy platform.
Accepting donations from wealthy individuals or companies in certain industries, such as finance or fossil fuels, could undermine their credibility with liberal voters who are increasingly hostile to the political donor class and moneyed interests. Still, the eventual nominee will be forced to compete in a what is almost certain to be another multibillion-dollar general election. These decisions could also put the nominee at a financial disadvantage against Trump, whose campaign is raising money at an unprecedented pace.
“It’s very easy for big money to keep up with small donor surge,” said Ian Vandewalker, a senior counsel for the Brennan Center’s democracy program at the New York University School of Law.
So far, every Democratic candidate running for president has rejected corporate Pac donations, and most have disavowed super Pacs.
“This campaign is going to be a community-led effort, and your voice will ring true in everything we do,” the New York senator Kirsten Gillibrand wrote on Twitter, eschewing her deep ties to Wall Street donors. “No corporate Pac money, no federal lobbyist money, no individual super Pac.”
In a similar appeal to supporters, Klobuchar said her campaign would be “homegrown” and free from the influence of super Pacs and lobbyists. “Just you and Amy,” her campaign promised.
The Massachusetts senator Elizabeth Warren went further when she announced her campaign was swearing off private fundraisers and one-on-one meetings with big donors. The pledge is a bet that supporters will reward her for refusing such donations – but it comes with a risk, especially as she struggles to fundraise at the rate of some of her progressive challengers.
“No doubt about it, there will be a cost to our approach,” Warren wrote. “In fact, making this decision will ensure that I will be out-raised by other candidates in this race. But it’s the right thing to do.”
The ceiling on how many people can be a part of your smalldollar program is limitless