Last year, No 10 took an unprecedented step: it invited content creators to cross the threshold of Downing Street.
Naturally, the creators all filmed themselves outside the famous door. Once inside, their most treasured possessions, their phones, were taken from them and exchanged for government-approved devices, so they could continue to take photos and record video without breaching security guidelines. At the reception, creators from areas as wide as science, education and travel took part in a networking session at the heart of government.
This was one of a number of events in 2025. There were also off-the-record breakfasts to talk about how creators might collaborate with the government to reach new and younger audiences. A large part of the work being done by No 10’s New Media Unit was aimed at working with financial education creators to help share new policies being launched by the Treasury.
Financial content creators were invited to speeches and briefings for the biggest political events of the year. When Anna Brading, a personal finance content creator, entered the No 10 briefing room for the spring statement, she could hardly believe it. Having three kids at a young age meant that she spent her time raising a family and making ends meet by tutoring maths on the side. As she managed her family’s money, she began posting tips online for other mums. Now she was in the room that public health experts had updated the public from during the pandemic. “The day I walked in that room, I had to take a minute,” she says.
There was, of course, a backlash as some journalists felt that these creators didn’t have the expertise or clout to hold the government to account, but this may be one of the few areas in which No 10 is getting it right. The unit is attempting to address two unavoidable truths: one, people don’t trust politicians; two, more people are now getting their news from content platforms. Using highly trusted content creators to share news of policies addresses both of these issues at once.
Financial educator Rotimi Merriman-Johnson, known as Mr MoneyJar, has recorded videos for policies such as changes to the minimum wage for young people. He began making content before training as a financial adviser, and is keen to emphasise that it’s not just about relaying any old information. It’s about consistently sharing quality information that makes a difference to people’s pockets. “Every additional year you spend as a content creator, you become more trusted … It’s not just about the information, it’s about the person sharing the information.”
Political journalists, known as lobby journalists, have been permitted to work in parliament since the 1870s, sit in the press gallery watching the Commons floor, and receive briefings from the prime minister’s communication staff. The walls of the room where these briefings happen are lined with now-defunct telephone booths designed to allow reporters to file their copy down the phone. Desks in the members’ lobby, the room in which MPs gather before entering the Commons chamber, are pitted with now-dry ink wells. The bowels of Westminster are knotted with internet cables that sit – quite precariously – on top of old steam pipes. Inviting creators into the heart of government is yet another iteration of British politics and its institutions responding to technological innovation.
Since their introduction more than 20 years ago, social media sites have evolved into “content platforms”. Once, Myspace, Facebook et al were spaces to connect with friends; with the advent of Instagram, they became places to follow lifestyle “influencers”; now they are platforms that host a never-ending stream of “content”. Some of the best creators lean hard into specialisms and niches, and present themselves as experts in specific areas. According to Diane Banks, the chief executive of talent management agency Northbank Talent: “We are in the age of the expert content creator.”
In many ways, these expert creators are the perfect interlocutors for the Starmer government: they are technocratic and emphatically apolitical. As creator Cameron Smith says: “When I go into these rooms I’m representing my audience’s interests, not the interests of these political parties.” In fact, being non-ideological is integral to the business model. Talent management agencies shy away from polemicists as they are difficult to monetise. Brands don’t like to work with opinions. In this sense, the UK is treading a different path from the US, as the White House has seen an exodus of mainstream reporters who are being replaced by regime-friendly influencers and commentators.
Of course, the creators acknowledge the tension between pushing politicians on issues their audiences may be facing and needing to maintain access. This is especially pressing at a time when so many people feel knots tighten in their stomachs whenever they check their bank balances. There are more than a dozen major news publications in the UK, but millions of individual creators. It’s hard for a government to ignore – to pick an example out of nowhere – the Guardian for long, but easy to cast aside a creator who isn’t playing ball.
Creator Mat Gay says: “It’s a difficult question because while I would love to push a bit harder and talk a little bit more about the things that people are worrying about, to me it’s more important to just get them to the table.” Gabriel Nussbaum believes things are shifting. “They were a little bit rigid at the start,” he says. “They said: ‘Can you submit five questions that you’d want to ask Rachel Reeves?’, for example. And then they’d come back and say: ‘Do you mind not asking question four and five?’” But now, he finds he is given the freedom to question politicians. A government spokesperson said: “We are engaging with content creators, as well as journalists to reach new audiences, ensure we are held to account in a changing media landscape and keep the public better informed about government policies.”
Talking to these creators, I get the sense that they’re diligent and dutiful to their audiences, focused on the policy rather than the politics. Rather than political journalists, they seem to have more in common with the most trusted man in Britain, Martin Lewis, a former consumer-affairs journalist turned consumer-rights champion. Lewis has managed to make a career of teaching people how to work the system, and when to intervene so that the system works for them. I am sure content creators will figure that out too.
Kirsty Major is a deputy Opinion editor for the Guardian
