From Denial to the Culture Wars: A Study of Climate Misinformation on YouTube

ABSTRACT

Climate change is becoming a new front in the culture wars, with YouTube as one of its key arenas. Centered on an “Alternative Influence Network” orbiting Spain’s right-wing populist party Vox, this article examines the underexplored role of YouTube political influencers in propagating climate misinformation. Using thematic analysis, it uncovers instances of “post-denial” narratives that accept the reality of climate change while targeting climate policy and the climate movement, often through conspiracy theories and misogynistic rhetoric. Disagreements extend beyond policy specifics, intertwining with ongoing culture wars against a “woke wave” encompassing feminism, anti-racism, and now environmentalism. Amidst escalating opposition to Net Zero policies, the study sheds light on how these climate narratives reinforce “us” vs “them” binaries and appeal to feelings of resentment among young white males disoriented by rapid cultural change, who increasingly turn to YouTube for news and community. Despite these divisions, the study identifies potential common ground in environmental values and benefits like clean air.

KEYWORDS:

• Climate action
• affordable and clean energy
• decent work and economic growth
• reduced inequalities
• peace
• justice and strong institutions

The dangers of climate change have never been more apparent, yet the obstacles to meaningful action remain elusive. While the well-documented efforts of the “denial machine” persist in casting doubt on climate science to protect fossil fuel interests, the dynamics of climate misinformation have grown more complex. Overt denialism, once predominantly the domain of institutional actors like right-wing think tanks and media outlets, now coexists with subtler contrarian and delay strategies disseminated across a more fragmented and decentralized media ecosystem. A diverse set of actors – including bloggers, online personalities and automated bots – has joined the fray, exploiting digital platforms to disseminate misleading narratives at unprecedented speed and scale.

In this article, I turn attention to political influencers who operate within what Rebecca Lewis (2018) describes as an “Alternative Influence Network,” a loosely knit constellation of intellectuals, media pundits and internet celebrities originally identified in the US for spreading far-right ideologies via YouTube. This content particularly appeals to white men disoriented by rapid cultural shifts and a younger demographic that prefers the informal, relatable style of influencers to traditional journalism (Hosseinmardi et al., 2021). While the role of these networks in promoting far-right ideologies is well known, their contribution to climate misinformation remains largely unexamined. Given that far-right and populist parties are increasingly weaving climate concerns into their culture wars (Center for Countering Digital Hate, 2024; Counterpoint, 2021), thereby exacerbating existing divides and fueling opposition to climate policy (Meyer & Langengen, 2023), the need to fill this gap is particularly pressing.

The study centers on an AIN orbiting Spain’s Vox, a right-wing populist party notorious for dismissing climate change as a “hoax.” As the impacts of climate change become harder to deny, Vox is undergoing an “environmental turn,” mirroring similar shifts among its European counterparts (Aronoff, 2019). Though not always consistent, the party predominantly embraces “green patriotism” (Schaller & Carius, 2019), acknowledging the reality of climate change and advocating localized, culturally resonant conservation efforts while rejecting international climate agreements as a globalist, elitist agenda. Vox’s innovative use of social media to bypass hostility from mainstream media outlets, along with its appeal among young voters and ties to global disinformation networks (Applebaum, 2019), further underscore the relevance of this case for the study of online climate misinformation.

The study’s findings, based on a thematic analysis of climate-related content from 11 leading voices in this AIN, confirm the shift towards “post-denial” narratives among Europe’s populist right. Instead of disputing the science of climate change, their criticism focuses on the green transition, often resorting to well-known contrarian and delay narratives (Coan et al., 2021; Lamb et al., 2020). Other common themes are the use of conspiracy theories to question the motivations behind the green transition, the portrayal of climate initiatives as “elitist” and accusations that proponents manipulate public opinion with “alarmist” rhetoric while failing to practise what they preach. The findings support the notion that climate change discussions have become deeply intertwined with culture wars, as illustrated by some influencers within this network framing climate action as part of a broader “woke” agenda threatening Western civilization.

The article opens with a review of existing literature on climate misinformation, emphasising the critical but as yet underexplored role of political influencers on YouTube. It then provides a brief history of Vox, outlines the study’s methodology and presents its findings. This is followed by a discussion of the broader implications for our understanding of the changing landscape of climate misinformation. The concluding remarks outline pressing challenges and latent opportunities for engaging with communities across ideological divides.

The evolving landscape of climate misinformation

The digital age has seen a surge in concerns over “fake news” and “post-truth,” especially following events like Brexit and Donald Trump’s election victory in 2016, yet efforts to manipulate public opinion have been underway for quite some time. In the domain of climate change, major oil and gas companies have long campaigned to sow doubt in the scientific consensus to protect their interests by employing misleading claims and fallacious arguments (Oreskes & Conway, 2011). While not always labeled as “misinformation”, terms like “denial,” “scepticism,” “contrarianism” and “delay” all fall under a more expansive category of narratives designed to mislead or inaccurately represent factual information about climate change, its origins, impacts and potential solutions (Coan et al., 2021; Lamb et al., 2020; Treen et al., 2020).

At least since the late 1980s, following James Hansen’s Congressional testimony on climate change that helped raise broad awareness of global warming, the media have been a major actor in the climate countermovement, a coordinated network aimed at undermining the reality and threat of global warming (McCright & Dunlap, 2000; Painter & Ashe, 2012). The media, especially right-leaning outlets, have been instrumental to these efforts by providing a platform for sceptical voices (Elsasser & Dunlap, 2013; Feldman et al., 2012). Moreover, by giving undue weight to the views of a small minority of climate sceptics, the media have promoted a misleading narrative of disagreement among the scientific community, skewing public perception about the extent of the scientific consensus on human-caused climate change (Boykoff & Boykoff, 2004).

While pockets of denial persist in climate reporting, the practice of false balance has been losing ground to a more interpretive style of journalism that contextualizes contrarian voices with a dismissal of climate change denial (Brüggemann & Engesser, 2017; see also Boykoff, 2007). However, as journalists have refined their methods, the denial machine has adapted, harnessing online platforms to bypass traditional media scrutiny and engage with the public directly. Dunlap and McCright (2010, p. 253) observed the rapid spread of contrarian scientists’ claims through the “climate change denial blogosphere,” from where they were picked up by right-wing outlets and, subsequently, Republican politicians. Sharman (2014) found that this network of denialist blogs acted as alternative sites of expertise, offering reinterpretations of scientific findings for sceptical audiences. Complementing this trend, Holder et al. (2023) document how climate obstruction organizations used Facebook advertising to promote fossil fuels, portraying them not as environmental threats but as beneficial for society.

Twitter, now X, has also been singled out as a key platform for the spread of climate denial and delay discourses. Prior to Elon Musk’s acquisition, Twitter had become a favorite of climate sceptics (Falkenberg et al., 2022), with a handful of influential pundits identified as key drivers of a surge in anti-climate content (King et al., 2022). A recent development is the increase in automated content dissemination, exemplified by one-fourth of Twitter discussions on Trump’s withdrawal of the US from the Paris Agreement being driven by automated accounts (Marlow et al., 2021).

Despite its potential significance in this evolving landscape, YouTube remains an underexplored platform (Pearce et al., 2019). A compelling reason to look closer is its increasing popularity as a news source, especially among younger audiences who prefer the relatable style of influencers over traditional journalism (Newman, 2023). Although not traditionally associated with news, YouTube has become a key arena for discussions on current issues like climate change (Hosseinmardi et al., 2021), potentially undertaking television news as the main source of political information (Munger & Phillips, 2022). This is concerning, given the substantial amount of content on YouTube challenging the scientific consensus on climate change (Allgaier, 2019). Moreover, YouTube is disproportionately popular among far-right and white male audiences (Mamié et al., 2021), who have traditionally been at the forefront of spreading climate misinformation (Forchtner, 2019; Vowles & Hultman, 2021a; 2021b). Bennett and Livingston (2020) identify YouTube as a central node in the “alt-right media,” a sphere where misleading content echoing far-right views is deliberately blended with accurate news to lend it a semblance of authenticity.

The role of YouTube as a conduit for far-right ideologies has come under increasing scrutiny. Lewis (2018) seminal work introduced the term “Alternative Influence Network” (AIN), describing a loosely knit assemblage of academics, media pundits and online personalities who predominantly use YouTube to propagate reactionary views and challenge progressive movements – notably feminism and anti-racism. These content creators operate as “political influencers,” appropriating techniques typical of brand influencers to build an audience and promote far-right ideologies. However, despite extensive research on these YouTube personalities for spreading far-right content (for review, see Munger & Phillips, 2022), little is known about their specific role in the production and dissemination of climate misinformation. Significantly, a recent review of the major actors obstructing climate action from the 1960s to the present briefly mentions only one influencer, the German Naomi Seibt, famous for positioning herself as an “anti-Greta” and using her YouTube channel to rail against “climate alarmism” (Ekberg et al., 2022, p. 76; see also Butler & Eilperin, 2020). Despite the rising prominence of influencers in political communication and propaganda operations worldwide (Woolley, 2022), how they engage with discussions on climate change remains understudied.

This study addresses this gap in the literature by identifying and analyzing the dominant discourses on climate change promoted by political influencers orbiting Spain’s right-wing populist party VOX. In recent years, an “Alternative Influence Network” of content creators endorsing the party and/or its ideology has gained prominence on YouTube, contributing to an “explosion of right-wing political content” on the platform (Peinado, 2021). The aim is to uncover the specific narratives, themes and arguments about climate change they promote, along with their positioning in relation to the scientific consensus and the broader cultural, social and political implications of their discourse. The research question guiding this study is: What are the dominant discourses on climate change used by political influencers within the AIN orbiting Vox? By analyzing these discourses, the study seeks to enhance our understanding of how climate change is discussed within far-right and populist online communities – a particularly relevant question given that these groups often use different arguments compared to mainstream actors when it comes to delaying action on climate change (Ekberg et al., 2022, p. 71). A focus on their stances, therefore, is key to obtaining a comprehensive understanding of the evolving dynamics of climate obstruction.

The relevance of this research is further underscored by the growing polarization around climate issues. While consensus on the reality of climate change increases, the transition towards Net Zero emissions has become a key political battleground (Schröder & Benton, 2024), often echoing the divisive rhetoric of culture wars (Counterpoint, 2021). This polarization is evident in recent opposition against climate policies across Europe, from Dutch farmers protesting against what they see as excessive environmental regulations to backlash against the concept of “15-minute cities” in the UK and the controversy in Germany over the cost of heat pumps. Such resistance highlights a deep divide in public opinion and the potential for far-right and populist parties to exploit discontent with environmental regulations and green taxes (Meredith, 2023). With many European governments scaling back environmental targets over concerns about a “greenlash” (Logan, 2023), even as climate change impacts intensify, this study is critical for both advancing understanding of the role of misinformation in climate policy resistance and identifying strategies to promote inclusive climate action that bridges political divides.

Vox, a threat to the green transition

A prominent voice seeking to exploit discontent with environmental policies is Spain’s right-wing populist party Vox. Founded in 2013 amid political and economic instability, Vox emerged as a radical right-wing alternative to Spain’s centre-right Popular Party (Barrio et al., 2021). It made its legislative debut with a strong showing in Andalusia’s 2018 elections and became the country’s third-largest party by the 2019 general elections, with 15 percent of the votes. Vox has since tripled its local council presence and formed coalitions with the PP in several regions.

Vox is generally considered a right-wing populist party (e.g. Juarez Miro & Toff, 2023), although the definition of “populism” is contested. Scholarship on Latin American populism has tended to conceptualize populism as a political strategy, where a dominant personality seeks to mobilize mass constituencies from above in order to gain or maintain power (Roberts, 2015; Weyland, 2001). In Europe, conversely, populism is more often understood as as a “thin-centred ideology” that divides society into two homogeneous camps, “the pure people” and “the corrupt elite,” and views politics as an expression of the “general will” of the people (Mudde, 2004; see De la Torre & Mazzoleni, 2019). The challenge of determining whether populism is employed strategically or ideologically has led some to define it in purely discursive terms – as a pro-people, anti-elite discourse or frame (Aslanidis, 2016). The “ideational” approach sidesteps this challenge, seeing populism as a set of ideas characterized by a Manichean distinction between the people and the elite, asserted either strategically or out of genuine conviction (Hawkins, 2018).

Vox’s discourse has been found to integrate populist tropes, such as labeling political opponents as “dishonest” and accusing all traditional parties of acting against the interests of Spaniards, without consistently identifying an “evil elite” or a unified “Spanish people” (Marcos-Marne et al., 2021). Vox’s discourse merges populism with a nationalist project aimed at reinforcing a certain narrative of Spanish identity – one that prioritizes historical continuity and national unity.¹

Spanish nationalism is central to Vox’s ideology, with the party showing a pronounced aversion to regional identities, especially those of Catalonia and the Basque Country (Barrio et al., 2021). Another key element of Vox’s ideology is opposition to immigration, which the party associates with increased crime and social instability. On the economic front, Vox subscribes to neoliberal orthodoxy, endorsing tax cuts and limited government. On social issues, Vox champions traditional values, often rooted in religious beliefs, and opposes so-called “gender ideology” (Alonso & Espinosa-Fajardo, 2021). Vox’s message has struck a chord with conservative young and male voters, who constitute its primary voter base (Carpio, 2023; Navarro, 2020).

Regarding the issue of climate change, Vox’s discourse is widely associated with climate denialism (Maza, 2019). Closer examination, however, reveals a more nuanced and sometimes contradictory stance (De Nadal, 2021). While some Vox representatives have indeed denied climate change, even dismissing it as a “hoax,” others within the party openly affirm its reality and anthropogenic origins (Hanson, 2023). Official party communications often tacitly recognize the issue by endorsing renewable energy and carbon capture technologies as effective emissions reduction strategies. Yet, at its core, Vox’s primary point of contention is not the scientific underpinnings of climate change but rather the policy measures designed to address it. These are systematically portrayed as elitist impositions threatening national culture and sovereignty.

Vox’s climate agenda reflects a larger trend among Europe’s far-right and populist parties, which often support environmental conservation but are resistant to international cooperation (Schaller & Carius, 2019). It is tempting to pigeonhole these parties as climate deniers, a position attributed to their suspicion of the intricacies of climate science and the motives animating the environmental movement (Lockwood, 2018). Nevertheless, likely as a result of mounting evidence (Vetter, 2021), more of them acknowledge the human influence on climate change and its potential risks, adopting a kind of “green patriotism” that favors environmental protection for nationalist ends (Schaller & Carius, 2019; cf. Schwörer & Fernández-García, 2023). According to Turner and Bailey (2022), a “discursive shift” is underway within this party family away from outright climate denial and toward “eco-bordering,” a narrative construct that ascribes ecological degradation to immigration and endorses stringent border controls as an environmental strategy.

Right-wing populist parties pose a formidable challenge to environmental sustainability, negatively affecting climate policy when in power (Lockwood & Lockwood, 2022). Vox is no exception. Several municipalities governed by coalitions between Vox and the PP have taken steps to reverse environmental initiatives, such as removing bicycle lanes (Burgen, 2023). This behavior is part of the broader backlash against climate policy across Europe, which could provide new avenues for right-wing populist parties to expand their support base (Meyer & Langengen, 2023).

With few exceptions (e.g. Forchtner et al., 2018), research on right-wing populism and climate discourse has largely focused on the rhetoric and policies of political parties, neglecting the media’s role. Emerging studies have begun to fill this gap, pointing to YouTube as a key platform for the dissemination of anti-mainstream climate narratives. For instance, one study found that Swedish far-right outlets often cite YouTube channels as authoritative on climate issues (Vowles & Hultman, 2021a), while a report by the Center for Countering Digital Hate (2024) highlights how YouTube and controversial influencers with large followings on the platform like Jordan Peterson – known for his attacks on political correctness and gender identity – profit from spreading climate delay discourses.

Vox makes a particularly relevant case for studying the changing face of the climate countermovement in the digital age, not least because of its effective use of digital platforms. Initially on the margins of Spanish politics and with scant media visibility, Vox skillfully used social media to broaden its reach and connect with potential supporters (Barrio et al., 2021; Juarez Miro & Toff, 2023). A Vox spokesperson went so far as to suggest that “Vox exists thanks to social media,” highlighting its role in enabling the party to “bring attention to debates and topics sidelined by the mainstream media” (Dircom, 2019). Vox leads among Spanish political parties in terms of engagement metrics on Facebook and Twitter and boasts the largest YouTube subscriber count (Rodríguez-Rata, 2023). This becomes particularly significant with YouTube emerging as a primary news source for younger audiences and attracting a predominantly male viewership.

Vox’s relevance is further underscored by its involvement in global disinformation operations. Reports indicate a disproportionately high propensity for Twitter bots aligned with Vox to disseminate content from websites known for publishing conspiracy theories and highly partisan articles (Applebaum, 2019). Moreover, an Alternative Influence Network has coalesced around Vox, loosely connecting dozens of YouTube political influencers. Some of them explicitly endorse the party, while others align with specific aspects of its agenda, ranging from its views on gender, immigration, religion and the economy, alongside its ultra-nationalist ideology. Spanish newspaper El País pointed out the intersection between this network and the spread of climate contrarian views, noting that several of its members actively campaign to undermine environmental activism (Peinado, 2021). However, no study has yet been conducted to systematically explore their climate discourses.

Methods and data

This study is based on a qualitative analysis of the climate discourses produced and disseminated by a network of YouTube political influencers orbiting Vox. As defined by Riedl et al. (2023), the term “political influencer” refers to “content creators that endorse a political position, social cause or candidate through media that they produce and/or share on a given social media platform.” Adopting the style of micro-celebrities, political influencers employ a range of strategies to differentiate themselves from the mainstream media, seeking to build trust with their audiences through relatability, authenticity and accountability (Lewis, 2018; 2020). Although these techniques can be put to different ends, transcending ideological boundaries, the content creators examined in this study all use their YouTube channels to “sell” reactionary ideology. Eligibility for the study did not require explicit endorsement of Vox; YouTube channels needed only to be cited in journalistic accounts as nodes in a network of influencers ideologically aligned with Vox (e.g. Galaup, 2023; Peinado, 2021; Pérez Colomé, 2023).

The selection began with searches in Spain’s leading newspapers via Nexis, using the keywords “Vox,” “influencer” and “YouTuber” – a commonly used Spanish term for “influencers.” I then expanded the search to include major Spanish digital newspapers not indexed by Nexis (e.g. El Diario, El Confidencial, Ok Diario) using the search functions on their respective websites. This approach aimed to ensure that no influencers who met the study’s criteria were omitted.

After compiling a list of relevant channels from media reports, I refined the list to meet the study’s specific requirements. To ensure a minimum of public reach, I set a lower limit of 100,000 subscribers, resulting in a total of 15 channels. Next, I examined video metadata on these channels, focusing on content where “climate” appeared in the title, tags or descriptions, and excluded references to “climate” in unrelated contexts, such as mentions of the “political climate.” This narrowed the list to 12 channels, nine male-hosted and three female-hosted. To keep the analysis up-do-date and maintain a consistent temporal frame, I removed one channel with content from 2008, as the remainder of the dataset ranged from 2016 onwards, thus bringing the total to 11 channels. The number of relevant videos on these channels varied between 1 and 32, with durations from five minutes to two-hours. For channels with over five relevant videos, I selected the five most-watched, balancing potential for impact with a manageable sample for qualitative analysis. This method yielded a final dataset of 36 videos, listed in the Appendix.

I then systematically collected and prepared data for analysis, transcribing audio into text before beginning the analysis. I combined manual efforts with automated methods for transcription, using a YouTube transcription tool where automated transcripts were unavailable. This hybrid approach allowed me to correct inaccuracies in the automated transcriptions. For instance, an automated transcription of a video by InfoVlogger mistakenly converted “ola woke” (“woke wave”) into “hora walk” (“hour walk”), underscoring the need for manual checks to ensure accuracy. The length of the transcriptions varied widely, from as few as 1,034 words in the shortest video (Wall Street Wolverine, #5) to as many as 116,854 in the longest (Jano García, #1), with the average transcription length being around 6,000 words.

In the analysis phase, I used thematic analysis (Braun & Clarke, 2012) to explore how the political influencers articulated their views on climate change. After transcribing the videos, I started by familiarizing myself with the dataset and then moved on to coding points of interest. From these codes, I generated initial themes, which I subsequently reviewed to identify key recurring patterns. I opted for a single-coder approach, often favored in approaches to thematic analysis that view researcher subjectivity (e.g. their pre-existing knowledge) not as a barrier to coding but as an asset to be harnessed (Braun & Clarke, 2021). This process was recursive, allowing me to continually refine themes by moving back-and-forth between phases.

Given the exploratory nature of the research question, my approach to data coding and theme development started inductively. However, I soon adopted a more deductive approach upon recognizing strong links to theoretical concepts (e.g. discourses of climate delay), prompting me to code around these ideas. In the review process, I focused on refining the themes to ensure they were focused and relevant. This involved making both minor adjustments, such as clarifying central organizing concepts, and more substantial changes, such discarding themes that did not directly align with the research objectives. This approach helped uncover the influencers’ stances on climate change and how these intersect with their broader political agendas.²

Thematic analysis results

The thematic analysis uncovered six themes: recognition of the scientific consensus on climate change, with influencers accepting this consensus and drawing a clear line between outright denial and their objection to alarmist forecasts; objection to the “denialist” label, framing it as a derogatory term used by elites to suppress dissent; use of contrarian and delay discourses, acknowledging climate change but criticizing climate policies and the climate movement; use of conspiracy theories to discredit the climate movement, hinting at ulterior motives behind environmental advocacy; convergence of climate contrarianism with far-right targets, blending climate scepticism with broader culture war issues; and support for sustainable practices, supporting environmental conservation despite opposition to mainstream environmentalism. These themes are outlined in Table 1.

Table 1. Main themes identified in the climate discourse of YouTube political influencers orbiting Vox.

Theme	Characteristics
Recognition of the scientific consensus on climate change	Acknowledges the consensus on human causes of climate change, while stressing the importance of distinguishing between outright denial and criticism of overstated catastrophic predictions.
Objection to the “denialist” label	Rejects the term “denialist,” viewing it as a strategy by elites to suppress dissent and marginalize critics of mainstream environmental policies.
Use of contrarian and delay discourses	Implicitly or explicitly acknowledges the existence of climate change but criticizes climate policies and the climate movement
Use of conspiracy theories to discredit climate movement	Suggests climate advocacy is driven by hidden agendas unrelated to genuine environmental protection.
Convergence of climate contrarianism with far-right targets	Blends climate contrarianism with typical far-right targets such as feminism, anti-racism and identity politics, highlighting the entanglement of climate discourse with broader culture wars.
Support for sustainable practices	Supports practices aligned with mainstream environmentalism, such as environmental conservation, transitioning to renewable energy and adopting specific green policies.

The thematic analysis reveals a striking absence of outright climate denial. Begoña Gerpe stands out as the only political influencer in the dataset who denies climate change, yet even her position is marked by ambiguity. Gerpe (#1) commits a classic denialist fallacy by conflating weather and climate – “I don’t notice major changes [in the weather]” – but quickly tempers her statement, clarifying: “I do not intend to deny that the climate is changing.” Gerpe acknowledges her lack of expertise in the field and ultimately defers to experts: “I am a layperson (profana). Let the experts speak.”

The prevailing ethos is not one of climate denial, but rather an explicit recognition of the scientific consensus. Libertad y lo que surja (#1) cites “overwhelming proof” (“está demostradísimo”) as evidence for human-induced climate change, while Jano García (#3) considers climate denial “absurd.” Un tío blanco hetero (#1), although critical of “alarmist” forecasts, emphasises the importance of acknowledging humanity’s role in climate change, warning against letting “failed catastrophic predictions cloud our perception of reality.” Wall Street Wolverine (#4), who otherwise identifies with Trump’s politics, takes him to task for his refusal to acknowledge climate change and reluctance to champion renewable energy.

Describing these political influencers as “denialist” is not entirely accurate and could be counterproductive, intensifying their feelings of being unfairly attacked. Begoña Gerpe (#1) and Un tío blanco hetero (#2) object to their critical stance on mainstream climate policy being labeled as “denialism” – a term they find pejorative and strategically aimed at silencing dissent. Un tío blanco hetero even jokes that questioning received wisdom on climate change must make him “very fascist and denialist.” This comment dovetails with broader concerns about censorship and so-called “cancel culture.” Jano García (#1) criticizes journalist Angels Barceló for advocating a media ban on “climate deniers” on her radio show, interpreting it as evidence of an attack on free speech from both “the Right and the Left.” InfoVlogger (#2) similarly warns that even a “slight (una coma) deviation” from the mainstream environmental script can result in a YouTube ban – an outcome he frames as “censorship.” Inocente Duke (#1) suggests that shunning those who question mainstream views is not conducive to constructive dialogue.

Recognizing the limitations of the term “climate denier” does not mean we overlook these influencers’ involvement in spreading climate misinformation. Instead, it redirects our attention toward the subtler ways they present their messages. While steering clear of direct challenges to the core tenets of climate science, they disseminate misleading information through contrarian claims aimed at proposed climate policies and the climate movement – often veering into the realm of conspiracy theory.

A common thread in their critiques of climate policy is the conflict between environmental goals and individual liberties. For instance, Un tío blanco hetero (#1) discerns a “totalitarian” impulse among those advocating for stringent environmental regulations, accusing the climate movement of imposing lifestyle choices. Similarly, InfoVlogger (#2) points to potential restrictions in areas like travel and diet. Another prevalent thread focuses on the financial impact of environmental policies. Jano García (#2) draws attention to the economic burdens, such as green taxes, lamenting that climate change has morphed into a lucrative enterprise for a select few. Juan Ramon Rallo (#4), echoing concerns raised by high-emitting countries like China and India, views green policies as a threat to economic growth. He even suggests that emerging economies have a “right to prosperity” that could be compromised by Net Zero policies.

References to countries like India and China in the dataset are often embedded within what Lamb et al. (2020) categorize as “whataboutism,” a discourse of denial suggesting that higher-emitting countries should shoulder a greater responsibility in the fight against climate change. Jano García (#1), noting that China is responsible for nearly one-third of global emissions while Spain’s contribution is a mere 0.9 per cent, questions why the “Western citizen should bear the financial burden of [environmental] salvation.” Likewise, Juan Ramon Rallo (#3) cites data from the Global Carbon Project to emphasise the striking emissions gap between Spain and China. Rallo (#4) contends that measures taken by minor emitters become “absolutely pointless” if major contributors eschew serious action.

For these influencers, the issue is often less about opposing emission reductions, which many acknowledge as necessary for environmental sustainability, and more about the means by which these reductions are pursued. A common criticism revolves around tax increases and publicly funded initiatives, which they perceive as less efficient than market-driven solutions. For instance, Fernando Díaz Villanueva (#3) suggests that “economic development and technology are the best antidotes to climate issues,” while Libertad y lo que Surja (#3) challenges the idea that capitalism is inherently damaging to the climate, ironically suggesting that factories under worker control might spew “festive confetti and glitter” rather than carbon dioxide. He advocates for a free-market approach, referencing data that presumably demonstrates the superiority of capitalist systems over state-controlled ones in environmental outcomes. With enthusiastic techno-optimism, he asserts that issues like water scarcity are surmountable with emergent technologies – citing desalination plants as an example – and that such advancements could “seamlessly solve the issue without us even realising” (Libertad y lo que surja, #5).

Beyond criticizing prevailing climate policies as damaging, difficult to enforce and inefficient, several influencers target the broader climate movement. They portray scientists, advocates, the media and politicians as hypocritical and prone to alarmism, sometimes implying they are either influenced by or actively taking part in a conspiracy to exploit environmental concerns for personal or political gain.

The accusation of hypocrisy has become a recurring theme in public discussions about global environmental summits, particularly the United Nations Conference of Parties (COP) events. These summits have offered plenty of examples of inconsistencies, which critics like the influencers in this study have eagerly seized upon. Prominent among them is the behavior of celebrity campaigners who advocate for environmental action yet travel to these events in private jets (Jano García, #2). In a video on the 2019 Madrid COP25, Una alienada (#1) depicts Spanish actor Javier Bardem as a Hollywood millionaire flying to Spain on his private jet to lecture on pollution. Libertad y lo que Surja (#2) also produced a video about the Madrid summit, calling attention to “glaring contradictions” such as monitors left on and mishandled waste. During COP26 in Glasgow, Un tío blanco hetero (#2) sarcastically praised the decision to convene in person as a means to avoid “pollution generated by Zoom-connected computers.”

Some influencers also criticize the climate movement’s alleged tendency towards “alarmism” and the “apocalyptic” nature of certain predictions. For instance, Un tío blanco hetero (#1) notes that, according to some of these dire predictions, “the Arctic should have already disappeared, and Venice should be underwater.” Jano García (#1) cites a New York Times article, highlighting the publication’s reputation before wryly pointing out that its prophecy of humanity disappearing within two decades under a “cloud of blue steam” is “somewhat overdue.” However, he omits that the forecast originated not from the newspaper itself but from an interviewee. Similarly, he inaccurately cites a 1971 Washington Post article as titled “New Ice Age Coming,” when in fact, the title indicates the prediction comes from a “U.S. Scientist.” The list goes on. Moreover, García does not disclose that his examples might have been compiled from a list on the American Enterprise Institute’s website, a right-wing think tank with a long history of promoting climate denial.

Claims against “alarmism” often veer into conspiracy theories, suggesting that advocates within the climate movement use apocalyptic, emotionally-charged rhetoric as a smokescreen for ulterior motives. Jano García (#1) contends that climate advocates deliberately conjure a climate of “panic” to make the public turn to the state for rescue. He believes this makes it easier for governments to impose new fiscal burdens and restrictions, which people are more inclined to accept for a sense of security and a “promise of salvation.” Likewise, Un tío blanco hetero (#1) warns about the rise of a “superstructure” trafficking in “fear and hollow moralism” to justify increased taxes and restrictive legislation. Libertad y lo que surja (#4), in a similar vein, dismisses a statement by then Spanish Minister of Consumer Affairs Alberto Garzón advocating for reduced meat consumption as mere “rhetoric to prompt public support for new taxes.”

Common targets of these conspiracy theories are international gatherings like the Davos World Economic Forum, caricatured as a secretive meeting to plot world domination, alongside tech magnates such as Bill Gates, accused of exploiting environmental concerns for personal gain. InfoVlogger (#2) suggests that Gates’ push to reduce traditional meat consumption is more about capitalizing on the meat substitute market than genuine altruism. It has indeed been reported that Gates has financial stakes in these markets, but InfoVlogger’s claim that “real meat will be reserved for the elite” leans into conspiracy theory territory. Venturing further into this territory, Wall Street Wolverine (#2) asserts that “one would have to be very naive to believe there are only good intentions behind these investments,” while Juan Ramon Rallo (#5) argues that climate policy is part of a larger “ideological” project aimed at controlling our lifestyles and advancing a far-left political agenda.

In several instances, these influencers’ attacks on the environmental movement intersect with usual targets of the far-right. Invoking the pejorative term “social justice warriors” popularized the “alt-right,” David Santos (#2) derides climate activists as “armchair revolutionaries,” highlighting the contradiction between their environmental advocacy and their tendency to litter, particularly with plastic, during “botellones” (outdoor drinking parties). Inocente Duke (#3) directs his ire towards the young climate activists who glued themselves to paintings in Madrid’s Museo del Prado, calling them “uneducated” and suggesting they deserve strong disciplinary measures, even a “slap in the face.” Jano García (#1) dismisses these activists as “naive” and describes the very notion of activism as “repulsive.” His disdain centers on New York Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortes, a strong proponent of environmental reform and climate justice, whom he considers “grotesque and repulsive.”

One climate activist in particular, Greta Thunberg, stands at the epicenter of their contempt, with their comments often tinged with misogyny. Una alienada (#1) dubs her “diabolical doll,” evoking the character Chucky from the horror movie Child’s Play. Un tío blanco hetero (#1) proclaims his “hatred” for Thunberg, describing her as “the most disgusting [repelente] person in the world.” David Santos (#2), referencing Thunberg’s famous 2019 UN speech where she accused world leaders of stealing her childhood, shares his own experience of working from age 13 to support his family. He argues that her sailing adventures hardly qualify as a stolen childhood and complains about the financial toll of green policies, claiming they are “robbing me of my life.”

This strong language against climate activists reveals a deeper entanglement of climate issues with wider culture wars, where the battle lines are drawn not only over issues like political correctness, LGBTQ rights and freedom of speech but also over environmental policies. In this extended culture war, these influencers position themselves and their viewers as an oppressed group standing up against a powerful climate elite and their leftist allies. InfoVlogger (#2) warns of a “woke wave” encompassing not only feminism and anti-racism but also “environmentalism.” Un tío blanco hetero (#1) sees advocacy for green policies as the latest in a line of “identity politics” movements that “co-opt noble causes,” such as combating gender discrimination and racism, to turn them into “exclusive, polarising” ideologies. Such movements, he claims, exploit legitimate concerns to push their “dogmatic” beliefs, casting dissenters as “evil.”

Among the various ideologies lumped into this “woke wave,” feminism stands out with particular prominence in the eyes of these influencers. Begoña Gerpe (#1) notes a moral equivalence between the two, arguing that questioning conventional wisdom about either climate change or patriarchy risks one being “immediately labeled as a bad person.” Extending this analogy, Wall Street Wolverine (#1) argues that environmentalism is becoming “the new feminism,” with corporations once eager to jump on the feminist bandwagon now shifting their focus towards environmentalism as “the next big thing” (“la próxima tendencia”). Adopting a more cynical lens, Inocente Duke (#3) claims that Spain’s Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez and his feminist-leaning administration are capitalizing on both climate change and gender violence to secure funding from the European Union: “It’s like the issue of domestic violence. They hype up a non-existent emergency because they know it brings in money from Europe.”

Despite deep-seated disagreements, surprising pockets of agreement do appear between the warring factions in this polarized debate, particularly concerning environmental conservation and benefits like clean air and reduced traffic. Several influencers proudly identify as nature enthusiasts. For instance, David Santos (#1), a gardener, passionately kisses a bonsai in a video while exclaiming, “I love you, nature!” To further demonstrate his commitment, he mentions having switched to energy-efficient LED lighting to reduce his ecological footprint. Inocente Duke (#1) also presents himself as an environmentally conscious person: “I make an effort to recycle as much as possible. I don’t waste water, I don’t litter. If I’m in the countryside, beach or any public place, I make it a point to clean up after myself. […] I plan to buy an electric car as soon as I can.” Duke attributes his eco-friendly behavior not to apocalyptic fears but rather to a sense of civic duty and, above all, to values he learned from his family.

In line with these environmental convictions, some influencers support the shift to renewable energies. Wall Street Wolverine (#4) proclaims himself a “staunch supporter” of renewables (creo a muerte en las renovables), describing a future dominated by oil and CO2 emissions as “unthinkable.” He even distances himself from fracking, acknowledging the need to balance productivity with sustainability. Like Duke, he credits his family for his environmental conscience, citing specifically their use of solar energy at home. Similarly, Un tío blanco hetero (#1) advocates for a shift toward greener policies and a more meaningful engagement with the natural world, concluding that “you’d have to be a real idiot (capullo) to oppose this.”

Contrasting with the ongoing backlash against ultra-low emissions zones in many European cities, a few influencers support this green initiative. Wall Street Wolverine (#5), while emphasising the need to consider solutions for car-dependent households, endorses the implementation of these zones for the environmental benefits they bring to urban areas. Despite his right-wing libertarian politics, the term “common good” surfaces prominently in his discourse. Una Alienada (#1) also acknowledges the challenges presented by such zones but appreciates their positive impact on traffic reduction, noting that “it’s better for pedestrians when cities aren’t congested.” Although she concedes to being an occasional driver, she indicates doing so reluctantly and, by her own account, opts for alternatives whenever possible.

Discussion and conclusion

The thematic analysis of climate-related narratives presented here reflects the shift within the European populist right towards a “post-denial” stance on climate change. All but one of the 11 influencers analyzed in this study implicitly or explicitly acknowledge the reality of climate change, with the lone denialist eventually deferring to experts. Although they do promote a range of misleading narratives about climate change, outright denial is conspicuously absent. This calls for caution in using the umbrella term “denialist,” as it is often imprecise and could foster a sense of victimization among far-right and populist communities who feel unfairly marginalized or “cancelled.” Such labeling could exacerbate divides and transform media coverage into a blame game, preventing constructive dialogue among climate science, society and policy (see O’Neill & Boykoff, 2010).

The term “post-truth,” said to have a strong affinity with populism, presents its own set of complications. In this context, it risks painting populist movements with a broad brush by implying a universal disregard for evidence and expertise. Historically, populism has been associated with a distinct epistemology that privileges folk wisdom over expert knowledge, asserting that ordinary people’s day-to-day experiences give them a superior insight into truth (Rosenfeld, 2011). Based on this epistemic frame, a study analyzing climate change narratives in popular media identifies a “populist” climate discourse that dismisses alarmist views by invoking “common sense” on behalf of the sane majority (Ereaut & Segnit, 2006). According to the authors, this framing strategy prevents meaningful dialogue by elevating intuition above reasoned deliberation.

Contrary to this stereotype, the influencers analyzed here rarely resort to folk wisdom to support their arguments. Instead, they use scientific evidence to contest what they perceive as the politicization of climate science, fashioning themselves as rational alternatives to “apocalyptic” climate narratives. To be sure, they often cherry-pick evidence, but the point here is not about their logical inconsistencies; rather, the point is that their mode of argumentation challenges the stereotype of populism as fundamentally opposed to expertise. Their rhetorical strategy dovetails with the concept of “evidence-based misogyny,” where members of the manosphere distort data to support polarizing views on gender (Rothermel, 2023), and that of “populist expertise,” which describes the rejection of elite knowledge in favor of alternative knowledge systems by those disengaged from mainstream politics (Marwick & Partin, 2024). This study, then, supports the need to revisit the prevailing view that populism is inherently anti-expertise (Ylä-Anttila, 2018), not least because this view overlooks the sophisticated strategies populist groups employ to co-opt scientific authority as a means of bolstering their own credibility.

Besides challenging the conventional association of populism with folk wisdom and climate denial, this study echoes research on climate misinformation indicating a strategic shift away from disputing scientific evidence and towards attacking policy solutions and the climate movement.³ Regarding policy solutions, the influencers examined here raise three main criticisms. First, they emphasise potential negative impacts on individual liberties and the economy, often incorporating “whataboutism” (Lamb et al., 2020) to question the West’s leadership in carbon reduction. Second, they view the lack of public support for green policies as a significant hurdle to their successful implementation, making authoritarian solutions necessary. Third, they highlight the inefficiency of government-led solutions, instead advocating for market-driven approaches and technological progress as more effective means to address climate challenges.

As for the climate movement, they use two main strategies to undermine its credibility. First, invoking the notion of “personalised” climate hypocrisy (Gunster et al., 2018), they highlight discrepancies between the public, eco-friendly messages of prominent climate advocates and their private, carbon-intensive lifestyles. Second, they contest perceived “alarmism” in mainstream climate discourse, often promoting conspiracy theories that elites resort to doomsday narratives to manipulate public opinion and are primarily motivated by self-enrichment.

This reliance on conspiracy theories adds another layer of complexity to prevailing assumptions about the affinity between populism and “post-truth.” From the vantage point of these influencers, they are not exponents of post-truth but rather its antithesis. They see themselves as bastions of reason in an ocean of emotionally-charged “fake news,” actively working to expose the deceptive manoeuvres employed by climate elites. In doing so, they exemplify the notion of “populist conspiracism” (Pirro & Taggart, 2023), reflecting an “epistemic cleavage” (Hameleers, 2021) that separates the lies promoted by an outgroup, intent on hiding the truth, and the truths upheld by the ingroup.

Some arguments put forth by these influencers stem from legitimate doubts about the fairness of the green transition and should not be hastily dismissed as “misinformation” or “lies.” Concerns about the impact of green policies on average citizens have been raised across the political spectrum, including by social movements like the Yellow Vests, while criticisms of “green billionaires” for not practising what they preach are also widespread (Klein, 2020). Even the conspiracy theories they promote warrant careful consideration. As Vowles and Hultman (2021b) observe, conspiracy theories can be appealing to those feeling lost in a world where climate change questions traditional values, particularly those related to “industrial” and “breadwinner” identities. Moreover, the secretive nature of meetings among affluent environmentalists, like those in Davos, combined with elite claims to exclusive knowledge, can fuel conspiracy theories and foster scepticism, especially if perceived as reinforcing class privilege. Dismissing such theories as irrational or “paranoid” (Hofstadter, 2012) risks overlooking their broader political implications and fixating on individual psychological shortcomings at the expense of understanding the underlying social motivations.

That said, even if some of these concerns merit consideration, this does not detract from the fact that these influencers spread multiple misleading claims and fallacious reasoning, consistent with well-documented contrarian and delay narratives (Björnberg et al., 2017; Coan et al., 2021; Lamb et al., 2020; Rahmstorf, 2004).

For instance, their portrayals of the economic impact of climate policies are often one-sided, focusing solely on the downsides of a green transition while neglecting its potential benefits, such as improvements in public health and employment opportunities. Their “whataboutist” arguments, while raising legitimate concerns about the distribution of benefits and burdens of the green transition, serve to sidestep immediate avenues for climate engagement, implicitly suggesting that responsibility should be deferred until others take the initiative. Their advocacy for free-market and technology-based solutions, often bordering on “techno-utopianism,” promotes “non-transformative” (Lamb et al., 2020) solutions that reinforce existing power dynamics and justify unsustainable practices (see Shaw, 2023). Criticisms against rising taxes on air travel as inequitable are also misleading, as they overlook the progressive nature of such green taxes. Their allegations of “alarmism” selectively ignore a plethora of accurate past climate projections, as well as estimates that understate the actual severity of climate change.

Moving beyond these well-documented instances of climate misinformation, this study highlights the intertwining of climate issues with broader identity politics. Three thematic strands in particular highlight this entanglement and support the argument that climate change is emerging as a new battleground in the culture wars: the portrayal of change advocacy as “the new feminism,” perceived as a fashionable cause aligned with elite interests; fears of a “woke wave” that merges climate action with broader struggles for gender and racial justice; and hostile treatment of figures like Greta Thunberg and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, labeled as “hateful” and “grotesque.” These findings suggest that opposition to climate policy among far-right and populist groups is not just about policy specifics but reflects a deeper sense of alienation among a subset of white males who feel threatened by cultural shifts they strongly oppose.

The predominance of men among the influencers analyzed – 9 out of 11 – is no mere coincidence. This study echoes the “white male effect,” which describes the disproportionate representation of conservative white males among climate change deniers, often driven by their desire to maintain current power structures (McCright & Dunlap, 2011). However, we have seen that the term “climate denial” does not adequately capture the climate-related discourse propagated by these influencers, as nearly all acknowledge anthropogenic climate change. Their departure from denialist positions historically associated with this demographic might be interpreted as a strategic shift aimed at engaging younger, conservative males – a key demographic on YouTube – who may be more climate-conscious than older generations (Tyson et al., 2021).

The engagement of these content creators in a “climate culture war” reveals a paradox. They take pride in their identity as rational thinkers and condemn environmentalists for their emotional appeals, yet they simultaneously craft emotionally charged messages that seem designed to elicit strong feelings of resentment among their followers. While they may not explicitly embrace populism’s preference for “common sense” over expertise, their rhetoric carries strong populist undertones, especially when casting themselves as beleaguered truth-tellers silenced by climate elites. Here, the goal subtly shifts from enriching climate discussions to rallying a specific demographic – conservative white men – by embedding climate policy dissent within a broader narrative of cultural resistance. As a result, what emerges is less an objective, dispassionate analysis of the issues and more a “deep story” that furnishes the raw materials for constructing a political “common sense” (see Polletta & Callahan, 2019) – one that conveniently upholds the status quo.

The environmental movement may have found comfort in the notion that a consensus on the scientific realities of climate change would naturally lead to unified action. This belief, rooted in the “information deficit” model (see Lewandowsky, 2021), assumes that public scepticism or indifference towards climate change stems primarily from a lack of understanding of the science. However, this model underestimates the role of culture in how information is processed, leading to an emphasis on interventions like fact-checking and media literacy, which, while important, are incomplete solutions. Beyond these essential efforts to debunk and “prebunk” (Cook et al., 2017) obstructionist arguments, achieving consensus requires understanding the social and cultural contexts that render climate misinformation appealing in the first place. Krange et al. (2019, p. 2) highlight this very point, arguing: “If climate science is rejected due to ideological reasons, denial cannot be decreased solely by scientific communications. Underlying motivations need to be identified and addressed.”

Meanwhile, focusing on shared environmental values could help bridge political divides. This approach is hinted at by some political influencers who support environmentally friendly practices like recycling, using solar panels and replacing combustion vehicles with electric ones. It is vital to recognize, however, that solely pushing for solutions that emphasise personal consumer choices can redirect responsibility away from the fossil fuel industry and towards individuals, overshadowing the need for systemic change (Holder et al., 2023). This approach, exemplified by ExxonMobil’s strategy to minimize the severity of climate change and place the burden of action on consumers (Supran & Oreskes, 2021) risks reinforcing the very narratives that diminish the urgency of collective action and policy reform. Still, emphasising these common values offers a promising opportunity to move beyond existing divides and broaden support for environmental advocacy.

An important limitation of this study is the lack of longitudinal analysis. It focused on identifying dominant patterns in climate discourse without examining their evolution over time. Given that data collection concluded in July 2023, the study may not reflect the influencers’ latest stances. This limitation is particularly relevant for discussions on low emissions zones, which have become increasingly politicized. Future research could benefit from adopting a longitudinal approach to track how stances on climate policies held by far-right and populist communities change as these issues become more politically charged. Despite this limitation, this study offers valuable insights into the evolving strategies used by those seeking to undermine urgently-needed climate action, particularly regarding the prevalence of “post-denial” narratives and the use of culture war rhetoric to attack climate policies and the climate movement.

This study also offers valuable insights for engagement. It suggests avoiding blanket categorisations of these communities as “denialist” and instead emphasising mutual environmental responsibilities, alongside economic and job benefits of green industries. Moral lectures from wealthy climate advocates, by contrast, are likely to fall flat. As previous research in science and technology studies has shown (Wynne, 1996), resistance to mainstream policies often stems from complex social identity factors, leading to a repudiation of the groups associated with such policies. Discerning the shared values and identities that these influencers appeal to is therefore key for fostering dialogue and collaboration on climate issues.

This article has addressed a gap in the literature by examining how a network of political influencers ideologically aligned with a right-wing populist party spread climate misinformation through their YouTube channels, providing insights that could apply to similar networks worldwide. Future research could broaden the scope to include underexplored and increasingly relevant platforms like TikTok and messaging applications like Telegram and Signal. Expanding the investigation to include interactions among influencers and their audiences, including comments and engagement patterns, could further illuminate how these narratives resonate within and beyond these communities, offering a deeper measure of the videos’ impacts. Another avenue for research could explore connections among influencers, the broader media landscape and political parties. Contrary to what the term “online misinformation” might suggest, this phenomenon is not confined to the digital realm but is in fact closely tethered to political rhetoric, particularly populist rhetoric (Graves, 2021). Acknowledging this connection is crucial for tracing the origins of these narratives and understanding their impact on public opinion – a pressing issue given the growing resistance to climate policies among the populist right and the wider public.

Acknowledgements

The author wishes to thank the reviewers for their constructive comments, which have significantly enhanced this article. Special thanks to Silje Kristiansen for the invitation to present an earlier version at the Centre for Climate and Energy Transformation at Bergen University in Norway, and to Lise Benoist for organising the 2024 Political Ecologies of the Far Right Conference, where excellent feedback was received. Thank you also to Chris Shaw for insightful comments on an earlier draft.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1 Vox has also adopted a rude and harsh style (Marcos-Marne et al., 2021), which aligns with a definition of populism more as a style characterized by “bad manners” than as a cohesive ideology (Moffitt & Tormey, 2014).

2 The study focuses on thematic analysis rather than on individual content creators or the chronological sequence of their videos. While examples from specific videos and their creators are referenced to illustrate themes, the primary focus is on the themes, not the creators.

3 For instance, Coan et al.’s (2021) computer-assisted classification of contrarian claims about climate change reveals a shift within the contrarian blogosphere. While outright denial has remained stable or declined in relative terms in recent years, attacks on climate science and scientists have increased. Examples of these attacks include characterizations of the climate movement as “corrupt” and of climate policy solutions as “harmful” and “ineffective.”