Written By Tara DeVeaux
Every election cycle, political campaigns spend millions of dollars trying to reach Black voters. And every election cycle, too many of them make the same mistake by starting with the assumption that “Black voters” are an audience. They aren’t. They are millions of people with different lives, different ambitions, different disappointments, and very different reasons for voting, or deciding not to.
That distinction is particularly important in Texas right now. For anyone trying to win an election there, the most important question is not which candidate Black voters prefer. It is whether they will care enough to show up at all. That is a very different strategic problem.
Black voters may overwhelmingly prefer James Talarico to Ken Paxton. But support does not automatically equal enthusiasm, and enthusiasm does not automatically equal turnout, because many Black Texans believe Democrats take their votes for granted, and that should change the way campaigns think about Black political engagement.
The traditional political playbook tends to start with demographics: Black. Female. 35-54. Houston. But demographic targeting only tells you who someone is. It doesn’t tell you what moves them.
Two very different voting blocks illustrate this problem: One
includes voters with a strong affinity for Jasmine Crockett. They are politically engaged and highly attuned to whether Black political power is respected. Many will likely still vote Democratic. But that does not mean their enthusiasm automatically transfers to another candidate. For them, the issue is trust. They don’t need to be reminded that Republicans are the alternative. They need to see who will have power in a Democratic coalition, if their voices will matter, and where a candidate is willing to spend political capital and fight for them.Then there is another group altogether, made up of working- and middle-class Black Texans who are economically squeezed and less interested in political personalities or ideological arguments. Their question is much simpler: If I vote for you, what actually gets better for me? What happens to my paycheck? My rent? My healthcare? My ability to buy a home or build something for my kids? They have heard politicians talk about opportunity and the middle class before. What they haven’t always seen is those promises translating into visible progress in their own lives.
Those two groups may both appear in a media plan under “Black voters.” But they are
not the same audience. They should not receive the same message. They should not necessarily hear that message from the same messenger. And they certainly should not be reached through the same cultural channels. That is where political campaigns continue to leave opportunity on the table.For decades, Black political outreach has often followed a familiar formula: Black radio, Black churches, prominent endorsements, a few culturally targeted television spots and, increasingly, Black social media creators. Those tactics aren’t inherently wrong. But tactics without a deeper understanding of motivation are simply distribution. The harder question is: What belief are you trying to change?
For one voter, it may be: You haven’t earned my trust. How do I know you will really fight for me? For another: Politics has nothing to do with whether or not my life gets better.
Until you understand that, you don’t have a communications strategy. You have a media plan. And that distinction matters enormously in an election where the difference between winning and losing may not be persuading these voters to switch parties. It may be persuading people who already prefer you to show up to the polls because doing so will change their lives.
That’s why campaigns should spend less time asking, “How do we reach ‘Black voters’?” And more time asking: “Which ‘Black voters’ can actually change the outcome, and am I really motivating them with a one-size-fits-all approach?” That requires going deeper than demographics. It means understanding the communities people belong to, the cultural signals they respond to, the ambitions they are pursuing, and the tensions shaping how they see the world. It also means meeting people where those ambitions actually live.
For a working-class voter, that might mean talking about economic mobility in a first-time homebuyer community, a trucking and logistics network, or a neighborhood restaurant that is also a small Black-owned business. For a skeptical Democratic voter, it may mean something campaigns are far less comfortable doing: allowing people permission to challenge the candidate. Not another endorsement. Not another rally. A real conversation. Ask what Democrats have actually delivered. Ask what failed. Ask who stood in the way. Tell them why it will be different this time. That kind of engagement may feel riskier than traditional political advertising. It is also far more likely to build conviction and advocacy.
The future of Black political engagement will not be
won by the campaign that spends the most money targeting the fictional ‘Black voter’ block. It will be won by the campaign that understands their nuance because Black America has never been a monolith. It’s a collection of communities, identities, ambitions, and belief systems that frequently influence the broader culture around them.Political campaigns that understand that will stop trying to reach “the Black vote.” They will start finding the voters who can actually move the election.
And that is where the real opportunity is.
Tara DeVeaux is CEO of Burrell Communications Group. For more than 50 years, Burrell has helped brands and political leaders understand the cultural forces shaping Black communities and, increasingly, American culture more broadly. Most recently, the agency has conducted extensive research into the attitudes, motivations, and behaviors of Black voters in Texas.
(Contributing writer: Amber Wade)