2027 on social media: one campaign, three battles
Politique & Société
In January 2026, the French People and Information survey revealed that 44% of French citizens now rely on social media as a daily source of news a figure that rises to 66% among those aged 15 to 24. Less than a year before a pivotal presidential election, this statistic highlights a simple reality: the battle for public opinion is no longer fought solely in newspapers, morning radio programmes or political rallies. It is now being waged every day across digital platforms.
At first glance, this should be welcome news. Never before has it been so easy to speak directly to the French public. Yet, paradoxically, it has never been more difficult for mainstream political parties to make themselves heard. Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and other platforms all operate according to the same unforgiving rule: content that provokes emotion, outrage or shock is rewarded by the algorithm, while nuanced argument and careful reasoning are often pushed aside. This “attention economy” overwhelmingly benefits populists, whose political strategy relies precisely on simplifying complex issues, provoking reactions and making accusations without ever having to substantiate them. Should mainstream parties simply surrender this space? Absolutely not. With the 2027 presidential election approaching, there is still time for them to reclaim social media by fighting three essential battles.
The first is the battle for truth.
On TikTok in May 2026, Jordan Bardella promised that, once in power, he would deliver “billions of euros in savings by eliminating unnecessary public spending.” An intriguing lesson in fiscal discipline, considering that only a few months earlier the National Rally had voted alongside La France Insoumise in favour of more than €33.5 billion in tax increases. Such is the art of speaking with two voices.
Social media must not be surrendered to simplistic promises, shifting figures and catchy slogans. Whenever traditional media fail—or simply lack the time—to expose these inconsistencies, politicians from mainstream parties must seize the opportunities offered by digital platforms themselves. They should highlight contradictions for the public to see, confront populist promises with their actual cost and clearly explain the practical limits of policies that are often presented as effortless solutions.
The second battle is the battle for the narrative.
Here again, social media must not be left to populists and their distorted moralising. Their strategy is well known: they seek to discredit mainstream political parties by portraying a handful of failures as evidence of a broader national collapse. Through an endless stream of tweets and short videos, they would have those who have governed the country lower their eyes, apologise for everything and simply hand over the reins of government.
That would be a profound mistake.
Whether confronted with a financial crisis, a security crisis or a public health emergency, France has consistently weathered these storms thanks not only to the resilience of the State, but also to political leaders willing to make difficult and courageous decisions.
There is nothing shameful about speaking openly about what has been achieved, defending policies that have delivered results or highlighting tangible successes. On the contrary, it is indispensable. Public trust is rebuilt by demonstrating that democracy is capable of acting, protecting and delivering meaningful change.
This is precisely what the battle for the narrative should accomplish. It is not merely about responding to the attacks of demagogues; it is about affirming a record of achievement, standing by it and bringing it to life through formats that lend themselves to thoughtful discussion: long-form videos, podcasts, online programmes and platforms such as Twitch.
The third and final battle is the battle for meaning.
A provocative statement on immigration. A thirty-second video about taxation. An instant promise on purchasing power. Faced with this, mainstream political parties should resist the temptation to compete with those who thrive on noise and outrage. Their responsibility is different: it is to restore meaning to public debate.
Social media do not inevitably condemn us to confrontation or empty slogans. They can also serve longer-term reflection: a ten-minute video explaining a reform, a podcast exploring the rationale behind a budgetary decision, or an online programme answering citizens’ questions directly about education, security, healthcare or immigration.
In short, politics must once again become educational.
Explaining policies is not an act of condescension, however much populists have tried to portray it as such. Quite the opposite. While they infantilise citizens by pretending that every problem has a simple solution, mainstream parties should treat the French as adults.
Why is a reform necessary? What will it cost? Whom will it protect? What sacrifices does it require?
These are the questions that deserve clear, direct and patient answers.
Three battles, then: truth, narrative and meaning.
They cannot be won by mimicking the methods of those who thrive on noise, caricature and perpetual outrage. Mainstream political parties will not persuade voters by turning every debate into a confrontation, nor by responding to oversimplification with more oversimplification.
They will succeed only if they can transform social media into what they were always meant to be: additional tools placed at the service of the public.
That is the fundamental distinction.
The goal is not to use digital platforms merely to promote a candidate, cultivate an image or dominate the news cycle. Rather, it is to use them to tell the truth, defend an honest record, explain the difficult choices that lie ahead and enable every citizen to understand both the stakes of the election and the policies being proposed.
Under those conditions, social media can once again become an asset for democracy.
Otherwise, others will continue to dominate these platforms with falsehoods, simplistic arguments and a narrative of inevitable decline.



