Why Is Charlie Kirk Selling Me Food Rations?
6 min read
Charlie Kirk is worked up. “The world is in flames, and Bidenomics is a complete and total disaster,” the conservative influencer said during a recent episode of his podcast The Charlie Kirk Show. “But it can’t and won’t ruin my day,” he continued. “Why? ’Cause I start my day with a hot America First cup of Blackout Coffee.” Liberals have brought about economic Armageddon, but first, coffee.
Listening to Kirk’s show—which is among the most popular podcasts on the right—can be unsettling, even if you are a conservative. In the past year, the founder of Turning Point USA has uploaded episodes with titles such as “The Great Replacement Isn’t Theory, It’s Reality” and “The Doctors Plotting to Mutilate Your Kids.” He has also conducted friendly interviews with a blogger who once described slavery as “a natural human relationship,” and discussed crime stats with the white supremacist Steve Sailer in a way that veered toward race science. (Andrew Kolvet, a spokesperson for Kirk, declined to comment for this story.)
But the advertisements Kirk reads are sometimes more dire and polemical than what he and his guests talk about during the show. “Rest assured knowing that you’re ready for whatever the globalists throw at us next,” Kirk said at the end of one ad for medical-emergency kits. These ads espouse conservative values and talking points, mostly in service of promoting brands such as Blackout Coffee, which sells a “2nd Amendment” medium-roast blend and “Covert Op Cold Brew.” The commercial breaks sounded like something from an alternate universe. The more I listened to them, the more I came to understand that that was the point.
Some brands, of course, speak the language of Democrats, touting their climate commitments and diversity efforts. But when I listened to left-of-center podcasts, including Pod Save America, Michelle Obama: The Light Podcast, and MSNBC’s Prosecuting Donald Trump, I mostly heard ads from an assortment of nonpartisan brands such as Ford, Jefferson’s Ocean Aged at Sea Bourbon, eHarmony, and SimpliSafe. The closest equivalent I found was Cariuma, a sustainable shoe brand that sponsors Pod Save America.
The right, meanwhile, has long hawked products that you don’t typically see advertised on mainstream outlets and shows. In 2007, the historian Rick Perlstein chronicled a far-fetched investment opportunity involving stem cells and placentas advertised on the far-right website Newsmax. Supplements and gold have become part of conservative-advertising canon, as the writer Sam Kriss summed up in his recent essay on the ads that appear in National Review’s print magazine: “The same apocalyptic note [ran] through all these ads. The hospitals will shut down, the planet will freeze over, you personally are getting old and dying—and now your money might be worthless if you haven’t put it all in gold.”
Some of Kirk’s ads hit the same beats. At times, they sound a little jarring: “You are nine meals away from anarchy,” he said in one ad for buckets of food rations, from a website called MyPatriotSupply.com. Yet as the world of right-wing-coded products has expanded, so has the weirdness of ads for them. “For 10 years, Patriot Mobile has been America’s only Christian-conservative wireless provider,” started another ad. Switching to Patriot Mobile, Kirk explained, would mean that “you’re sending the message that you support free speech, religious liberty, the sanctity of life, the Second Amendment, our military veterans and first-responder heroes” while getting “the same coverage you’ve been accustomed to without funding the left.” How? By renting access to “all three major networks” via a business deal with T-Mobile, a company that has positioned itself as at least nominally left of center on some issues.
If listeners are feeling charitable, Kirk has options for them too. “Hey, everybody, exciting news. Very, very important. Uh, we are saving babies with PreBorn,” Kirk opened up a dollar-matching promo for a group raising money for ultrasounds, apparently having managed to quantify the precise dollar amount it would take to stop a woman from having an abortion. “For a one-time, $15,000 gift, you’ll provide not just one ultrasound machine, but two, saving thousands of babies for years to come; $280 saves 10 babies; $28 a month saves a baby a month, for less than a dollar a day.”
Conservative podcasts have become mega popular in recent years, and are some of the most trusted sources of news on the right: Kirk’s show ranks as the 12th-most-popular “news” podcast on Spotify right now. The show is also syndicated on radio stations across the country and posted on YouTube, where Kirk has 1.7 million subscribers. And although conservative influencers including Candace Owens, Matt Walsh, and Jack Posobiec also promote gold or supplements (or both) on their own shows, Kirk’s ads were the most varied of the conservative-podcast ads I listened to. Some conservatives, however, want no part of these kinds of ads. Earlier this month, the right-wing YouTuber Steven Crowder made fun of his contemporaries for hawking “shitty supplements.” Most of it is “selling you crap you don’t need from people who don’t care about you!” Crowder yelled at the end of a four-minute rant on the matter.
The ads reflect the new paradigm of advertising. In previous decades, ads had to appeal to whole segments of the population—and products were made with that in mind. That some readers of Vanity Fair might want a Givenchy handbag, and some readers of Sports Illustrated might want Callaway golf clubs, was as targeted as ads could get. Now the country has fractured into partisan subgroups, and companies have access to reams of analytics that enable them to target ever more precise demographics. Through shows like Kirk’s, brands such as Blackout Coffee and Patriot Mobile can reach their relatively niche audiences more easily than ever. (Blackout Coffee and Patriot Mobile did not respond to my requests for comment.)
But something else is happening too. Kirk and the rest of the conservative-podcast ecosystem aren’t just selling wares. The ads, with some exceptions, are not like ads for beer or pickup trucks that detract from the action while one watches, say, a football game. Rather, conservative ads are constitutive. They enhance and reinforce the arguments that Kirk and others are already making on their podcasts—that Black people are prone to crime, whiteness is getting excised, abortion is murder, and the United States is unstable and on the verge of collapse. The commercial breaks are the final screws needed to construct a self-contained conservative chamber. Kirk has ensconced himself in a world in which he’ll likely never face external pressures to self-moderate in the way that, say, Rush Limbaugh occasionally did when he went too far beyond the tastes of mainstream advertisers.
When you’re listening to Kirk talk about Blackout Coffee, you can also look down and see the steam coming off your own cup of Blackout Coffee, and relax while its caffeine helps you “be awake not woke.” You can open a new browser tab and check in on your portfolio, whose wealth managers are endorsed by Kirk, and then look at the price of gold and think about your own supply procured from a company that Kirk himself vetted “from top to bottom.” You can even stop listening to Kirk, go out to your backyard, and make a call, knowing that you’re doing so as a freedom-loving conservative with your Patriot Mobile phone plan.
On The Charlie Kirk Show, there is no longer a gap between the real world and what is playing inside listeners’ headphones. Kirk’s fans can make fewer and fewer compromises on their views and burrow themselves more deeply in the womb of reactionary politics. And with the coupon code “Charlie,” listeners can get a discount to buy something else that will allow them to further immerse themselves inside of it.
