What Democrats Can Learn From Mexico
AMLO’s Morning Theater: Blurring Populist Governance and Spectacle
Claudia Sheinbaum’s landslide victory as Mexico’s first female president was historic—not just for breaking barriers but for defying global trends. At a time when incumbent parties faltered post-COVID, Sheinbaum triumphed with nearly 60% of the vote, propelled by policies that doubled the minimum wage, regulated exploitative outsourcing, and expanded universal pensions. Her success builds on the foundation laid by Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO), who redefined left-populist governance in Mexico, securing an electoral coalition based on non-college, working-class voters.
Central to AMLO’s approach had been his unparalleled command of the attention economy. Every weekday morning at 7:00 a.m., AMLO strode to a podium draped with the Mexican flag for La Mañanera, a three-hour, daily press conference that blends data with anecdotes, corrupt villains, and narratives of progress. These daily briefings dominated the national conversation, cementing AMLO’s role not just as president but as the nation’s storyteller-in-chief. La Mañanera was a cornerstone of his governance, showcasing how direct, consistent communication can amplify left-populist policy in a media-saturated age.
Some quotes from AMLO’s press conferences.
Our economic policy is the opposite of the neoliberal model, which claimed 'if it rains hard at the top, it trickles down below.' But that never happened. They only justified plundering and theft.
How could we have a luxurious presidential plane in a country with so much poverty? There cannot be a rich government with poor people.
The oppressive contracts they signed before were made to steal. Now we are recovering what belongs to the people.
In the past, you could buy the presidency, governors—everything was a game of publicity and dirty tricks. Now, every citizen with a phone is their own media outlet; the truth reaches even the farthest corner.
Mexico was once a factory of dreams, but neoliberalism shut the doors to progress.
Dirty tricks no longer work; they only reflect the desperation of those who use them.
They even stole the money for medicine... Medicines couldn’t be bought abroad because everything was a lucrative business for a handful of companies.
Poverty is not fate or God’s will; it stems from a lack of opportunities and corruption.
For many voters, La Mañanera projected transparency and accessibility. AMLO spoke plainly, often addressing everyday concerns, from pensions to healthcare. He wove a coherent story of economic justice, framing his administration as a direct response to decades of neoliberal policies that he blames for inequality and corruption. His method wasn’t without controversy—critics accuse him of using the platform to deflect blame, attack the media, and simplify complex issues. Yet for millions of working-class Mexicans, his daily presence signaled a leader attuned to their struggles, offering both accountability and hope.
AMLO’s mañaneras turned governance into colorful spectacle, blending policy updates with raffles, live music, powerpoints, and even cartoon clips. This mix of humor, nostalgia, and accessible language transforms dry briefings into engaging events that connect politics to everyday life. His unscripted style names clear villains—corrupt elites and neoliberal technocrats—channeling frustration into a shared narrative of progress. Critics may call it propaganda, but AMLO’s ability to link national policies to individual lives, from pensions to infrastructure, keeps his populist appeal both relatable and effective.
AMLO’s mañaneras echo the appeal of Governor Andrew Cuomo’s COVID-19 press conferences, which skyrocketed his approval ratings and captivated audiences with their blend of clear updates, relatable language, and moments of human connection. Both used consistent, direct communication to frame themselves as steady hands in crisis, boosting their popularity by making governance feel accessible and personal.
While AMLO dominated Mexico's media landscape with one of the nation's most popular Youtube channels, Biden’s communications strategy was marked by evasion—holding fewer press conferences than any president since Reagan and relying on tightly controlled media engagements, leaving a vacuum often filled by his critics. Biden administration delivered significant policy wins but sporadic press conferences and technocratic messaging rarely cut through the noise of a fragmented media ecosystem dominated by right-wing outrage. A steady, direct dialogue with voters—akin to AMLO’s daily briefings—could help Democrats not only highlight their successes but also reclaim the narrative from Republican provocateurs.
In Brazil, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva is taking cues from AMLO while navigating his own challenges. Early in his third term, Lula launched Talks with the President, a weekly livestream aimed at countering the far-right’s dominance in digital spaces. However, Lula’s critics argue that his new media efforts lack the authenticity and resonance of AMLO’s daily briefings or even Jair Bolsonaro’s viral, unscripted livestreams. Lula’s polished broadcasts feel top-down, disconnected from the grassroots energy that once defined his Workers’ Party (PT).
What Democrats Can Learn
AMLO, Claudia Sheinbaum, and Lula offer distinct but complementary lessons for Democrats seeking to rebuild trust with working-class voters:
Daily Dialogue: Like AMLO, Democrats need leaders who communicate regularly and directly with the public. Imagine weekly livestreams or town halls where nationally known Democratic elected officials not only discuss policy achievements but also address voter concerns, criticize unpopular media outlets, and counter misinformation in real time.
Emotional Storytelling: AMLO’s success lies in his ability to simplify complex issues into narratives that resonate emotionally with themes of hard work, dignity, solidarity, and fairness. Democrats must articulate who benefits from progressive policies and identify clear villains, such as corporate landlords, grocery store conglomerates, billionaire donors, Big Tech oligarchs, or pharmaceutical monopolies.
Grassroots Connection: Democrats should avoid overly polished messaging, focusing instead on fostering grassroots engagement that ties policy wins to voters’ day-to-day struggles.
This approach to direct, consistent communication isn’t new—it’s simply been adapted to fit the times. Franklin D. Roosevelt mastered it with his Fireside Chats, using radio to calm a nation in crisis and explain the New Deal in simple, reassuring terms. Decades later, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has reimagined this tradition for the digital age with her Instagram Live sessions, where she demystifies complex policies, addresses misinformation, and connects with constituents in an unfiltered, relatable way.
Tangible Policy Also Matters
While AMLO's daily press conferences dominated Mexico’s media landscape, his administration’s populist policies anchored his appeal in delivering tangible benefits to working-class and non-college-educated voters. These weren’t just symbolic gestures—they were material interventions. A historic hike in the minimum wage, the abolition of exploitative outsourcing practices, and direct cash transfers to the poorest Mexicans transformed lives in ways that were immediate and palpable. Each initiative told a story: that government could tilt the scales in favor of those left behind.
At the heart of AMLO’s populism was his uncompromising stance on energy sovereignty. By reinforcing state control over Pemex, Mexico’s national oil company, and subsidizing fuel prices, he didn’t just deliver cheaper gasoline—he delivered a political message. This was about standing tall in the face of external pressures, including the Biden administration’s push for privatization. For many Mexicans, this wasn’t just policy; it was patriotism. It affirmed the belief that their resources, and by extension their livelihoods, wouldn’t be surrendered to global markets or foreign interests.
When the Biden administration threatened trade disputes over Mexico’s closed energy markets, AMLO didn’t flinch. Instead, he framed the conflict as another chapter in Mexico’s fight for sovereignty, casting himself as the defender of a nation still haunted by its colonial past. This defiance solidified his support among his working class base and cemented his reputation as a world leader with one of the highest approval ratings—proof that populist governance, when paired with tangible results, could endure even under intense scrutiny and opposition.
On November 12, 2024, Claudia Sheinbaum, AMLO’s successor, unveiled her own populist vision with the signing of the Package against Inflation and High Cost of Living (Pacic). In a world where inflation often feels like an untouchable force of nature, Pacic was a rare act of defiance. By capping the cost of a basic food basket at 910 pesos, Sheinbaum delivered more than economic relief—she delivered clarity. In a global economy riddled with abstraction, her policy said something simple: markets should serve people, not the other way around.
While Democrats in the U.S. wrestle with the erosion of their working-class base, President Sheinbaum demonstrated a different approach by enlisting Mexico’s private sector to co-sign the Package against Inflation and High Cost of Living (Pacic). This agreement established a price ceiling on a "basic food basket" of 24 essential items—including staples like rice, tortillas, eggs, and soap—ensuring that these goods would not exceed 910 pesos.
By reducing costs from a previous cap of 1,039 pesos, Sheinbaum not only alleviated inflation's grip on Mexico's poorest citizens but also underscored her administration's commitment to economic equity. Pacic’s collaborative nature, uniting government agencies and major businesses, reframes the debate on inflation control: it isn't just about markets versus state but about leveraging shared responsibility to protect the most vulnerable.
Trump’s War On Attention
Donald Trump’s communications strategy wasn’t just a reflection of his personality; it was an audacious, deliberate effort to dominate the national conversation, every single day. His metric of success wasn’t legislative wins or approval ratings—it was airtime, headlines, and trending hashtags. Trump’s approach to communication was grounded in an unyielding desire to make himself the central figure of American politics, ensuring that whether people loved him or loathed him, they were always talking about him. This strategy was as effective as it was relentless.
As Stephanie Grisham recounts in I'll Take Your Questions Now, Trump consumed media like oxygen. Televisions were always on in his private quarters, tuned to Fox News or CNN, and he would demand updates from staff about how his latest comments or actions were playing in the press. Grisham describes how Trump’s appetite for feedback bordered on obsession; he’d quiz aides not just on headlines but on the personal opinions of reporters. This constant monitoring wasn’t idle curiosity—it was tactical. Trump treated media coverage as a scoreboard. He didn’t just want coverage; he wanted saturation.
Amanda Carpenter, in Gaslighting America, reveals how Trump weaponized this media omnipresence. By creating provocative, often factually dubious narratives, Trump ensured that the media couldn’t ignore him. Carpenter explains that this wasn’t accidental; it was a form of narrative gaslighting designed to make journalists and audiences react, refute, and ultimately amplify his message. The result? Trump controlled the agenda, forcing everyone—from his allies to his harshest critics—to engage on his terms. Even his lies served a purpose: by dominating the information cycle, Trump made it nearly impossible for other voices to cut through the noise.
In the end, Trump’s communications strategy wasn’t about persuading the skeptical or even informing the public—it was about owning the narrative. He didn’t measure success by the substance of the coverage but by its sheer volume. As Grisham notes, Trump’s fixation on headlines and trending topics wasn’t just a quirk; it was the engine of his political survival.
The Swing Voter Lives Outside the Political Noise
The swing general election voter isn’t who we imagine—a thoughtful centrist weighing policy trade-offs and Liz Cheney’s appeals for the soul of our democracy—but rather the 3 in 100 voters who exist largely outside the political conversation. These low-information, non-college-educated voters consume little to no political news, what Anat Shenker-Osorio calls “couchward” voters. Trump’s 15-point advantage among those disengaged from political media in 2024 is a blinking warning light for Democrats.
Voters aren’t just shifting rightward; they’re rejecting elites at the top while slipping further into the margins of the attention economy—disengaged from politics and increasingly drowned out in a media landscape saturated with noise. The real battle isn’t just over ideology—it’s over attention.