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    ‘Smartphones on Wheels’ Draw Attention From Regulators

    Modern cars are internet-connected and have hundreds of sensors. Lawmakers and regulators have concerns about what’s happening with all that data.In the American imagination, car keys and a driver’s license have long represented freedom, autonomy and privacy. But modern cars, which have hundreds of sensors, cameras and internet connectivity, are now potential spying machines acting in ways drivers do not completely understand.That has lawmakers and regulators concerned.On Tuesday, Senators Ron Wyden of Oregon and Edward J. Markey of Massachusetts sent a letter to Lina Khan, chair of the Federal Trade Commission, urging the agency to investigate automakers for sharing drivers’ location information with the police. The senators, both Democrats, say this sharing can “seriously threaten Americans’ privacy” by revealing their visits to protests, health clinics, places of worship, support groups or other sensitive places.“As far-right politicians escalate their war on women, I’m especially concerned about cars revealing people who cross state lines to obtain an abortion,” Senator Wyden said in a statement.Government attention to the car industry is intensifying, experts say, because of the increased technological sophistication of modern cars.Investigators for the Government Accountability Office recently went car shopping, undercover, to see whether salespeople were overselling autonomous driving abilities. In a March report, the agency concluded that consumers don’t fully understand crash avoidance technologies and driver support systems, the improper use of which “can compromise their safety benefits and even pose a risk on the road.”The Federal Communications Commission and California lawmakers want to prevent mobile car apps from being used for stalking and harassment. The F.C.C. has proposed regulating automakers under the Safe Connections Act — aimed, originally, at phone carriers — while California is likely to pass a law that would accomplish the same thing, requiring car companies to cut off abusers’ remote access to victims’ cars.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    How Candidates Are Using TikTok to Secure Younger Voters

    If all politics is theater, Representative Tim Ryan is one of its subtler actors. A moderate Democrat from Ohio’s 13th district who has represented the state for nearly two decades, his speeches and debate performances are often described as coming out of central casting. His style choices are D.C. standard. He’s not usually the subject of late-night skits or memes.That’s not to say he isn’t trying. Back in the spring of 2020, as Covid-19 was overtaking the country and a divided Congress was duking it out over a sweeping stimulus bill, Mr. Ryan, 48, was so frustrated at the stalled legislation that he decided to channel his emotion into a TikTok video.The 15-second clip features Mr. Ryan lounging around his office in a white button-down and dress pants, his tie slightly loose, as he mimes a clean version of “Bored in the House,” by Curtis Roach. It’s a rap song that resonated with cooped-up Americans early on in the pandemic, featuring a refrain (“I’m bored in the house, and I’m in the house bored”) that appears in millions of videos across TikTok. Most of them depict people losing their minds in lockdown. Mr. Ryan’s interpretation was a little more literal: Bored … in the House … get it?

    @reptimryan In the (People’s) House bored. ♬ original sound – curtistootrill Mr. Ryan is not a politician one readily associates with the Zoomers of TikTok. His talking points tend to revolve around issues like reviving American manufacturing rather than, say, defunding the police. But the chino-clad congressman wasn’t naïve to the nontraditional places from which political influence might flow. Years ago he was all in on meditation. Why not try the social platform of the moment?His teenage daughter, Bella, got him up to speed and taught him some of the dances that had gone viral on the app. “I just thought it was hysterical, and that it was something really cool that her and I could do together,” Mr. Ryan said in a phone interview.Representative Tim Ryan of Ohio joined TikTok in 2020. “I started to see it as an opportunity to really speak to an audience that wasn’t watching political talk shows or watching the news,” he said.Elizabeth Frantz for The New York TimesSoon enough, he was posting on his own account, sharing video montages of his floor speeches and his views on infrastructure legislation, backed by the sound of Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well.” (As any TikTok newbie would quickly learn, popular songs help videos get discovered on the platform.)“I started to see it as an opportunity to really speak to an audience that wasn’t watching political talk shows or watching the news,” Mr. Ryan said. This year, he’s running for Ohio’s open Senate seat; he thinks TikTok could be a crucial part of the race.But as primaries begin for the midterm elections, the real question is: What do voters think?Privacy, Protest and PunditrySocial media has played a role in political campaigning since at least 2007, when Barack Obama, then an Illinois senator, registered his first official Twitter handle. Since then, enormous numbers of political bids have harnessed the power of social platforms, through dramatic announcement videos on YouTube, Twitter debates, Reddit A.M.A.s, fireside chats on Instagram Live and more. TikTok, with its young-skewing active global user base of one billion, would seem a natural next frontier.A Guide to the 2022 Midterm ElectionsMidterms Begin: The Texas primaries officially opened the 2022 election season. See the full primary calendar.In the Senate: Democrats have a razor-thin margin that could be upended with a single loss. Here are the four incumbents most at risk.In the House: Republicans and Democrats are seeking to gain an edge through redistricting and gerrymandering, though this year’s map is poised to be surprisingly fairGovernors’ Races: Georgia’s contest will be at the center of the political universe, but there are several important races across the country.Key Issues: Inflation, the pandemic, abortion and voting rights are expected to be among this election cycle’s defining topics.So far, though, compared with other platforms, it has been embraced by relatively few politicians. Their videos run the gamut of cringey — say, normie dads bopping along to viral audio clips — to genuinely connecting with people.“TikTok is still in the novelty phase in terms of social media networks for political candidates,” said Eric Wilson, a Republican political technologist.Republicans in particular have expressed concerns about the app’s parent company, ByteDance, whose headquarters are in China. In the final year of his presidency, Donald J. Trump signed an executive order to ban the app in the United States, citing concerns that user data could be retrieved by the Chinese government. (President Biden revoked the order last summer.)After a brief stint on the app, Senator Marco Rubio of Florida, a Republican, deleted his account. He has since called on President Biden to block the platform entirely. In an email statement, Mr. Rubio, 50, wrote that TikTok “poses a serious threat to U.S. national security and Americans’ — especially children’s — personal privacy.”Senator Marco Rubio of Florida believes that TikTok “poses a serious threat to U.S. national security and Americans’ — especially children’s — personal privacy.”Scott McIntyre for The New York TimesThat point has been disputed by national security experts, who think the app would be a relatively inefficient way for Chinese agencies to obtain U.S. intelligence.“They have better ways of getting it,” said Adam Segal, the director of the Digital and Cyberspace Policy program at the Council on Foreign Relations, among them “phishing emails, directed targeted attacks on the staff or the politicians themselves or buying data on the open market.”Regardless, TikTok seems to have empowered a new generation to become more engaged with global issues, try on ideological identities and participate in the political process — even those not old enough to vote.There have been rare but notable examples of TikTok inspiring political action. In 2020, young users encouraged people to register for a Tulsa, Okla., rally in support of former President Donald Trump as a prank to limit turnout. Ahead of the rally, Brad Parscale, Mr. Trump’s 2020 campaign manager, tweeted that there had been more than a million ticket requests, but only 6,200 tickets were scanned at the arena.Such activity is not limited to young liberals on the platform. Ioana Literat, an associate professor of communication at Teachers College, Columbia University, who has studied young people and political expression on social media with Neta Kligler-Vilenchik of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, pointed to the political “hype houses” that became popular on TikTok during the 2020 election. The owners of those accounts have livestreamed debates, debunked misinformation spreading on the app and discussed policy issues.“Young political pundits on both sides of the ideological divide have been very successful in using TikTok to reach their respective audiences,” Ms. Literat said.You’ve Got My Vote, BestieMany of the politicians active on TikTok are Democrats or left-leaning independents, including Senator Jon Ossoff of Georgia, Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont, Senator Ed Markey of Massachusetts, Representative Ilhan Omar of Minnesota and the mayors of two of America’s largest cities, Lori Lightfoot and Eric Adams (who announced he had joined this week with a video that featured his morning smoothie regimen).This could be because the platform has a large proportion of young users, according to internal company data and documents that were reviewed by The New York Times in 2020, and young people tend to lean liberal. (TikTok would not share current demographic data with The Times.)Senator Ed Markey of Massachusetts has cultivated a following on TikTok, where young users often refer to him as their “bestie.”Alyssa Schukar for The New York Times“If you are a Democrat running for office, you’re trying to get young voters to go out and support you,” said Mr. Wilson, the Republican strategist. “That calculation is different for Republicans, where you’re trying to mobilize a different type of voter” — someone who is likely older and spends time on other platforms.For his part, Mr. Markey has cultivated a following on TikTok with videos that are a mix of silly (such as him boiling pasta in acknowledgment of “Rigatoni Day”), serious (for example, him reintroducing the Green New Deal with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Cori Bush) and seriously stylish (him stepping out in a bomber jacket and Nike high tops). The comments on his videos are filled with fans calling him “bestie” (“go bestie!!”, “i love you bestie,” “YES BESTIE!!!!”).The feeling is mutual. “When I post on TikTok, it’s because I’m having fun online and talking with my friends about the things we all care about,” Mr. Markey, 75, wrote in an email. “I listen and learn from young people on TikTok. They are leading, they know what’s going on and they know where we are headed, especially online. I’m with them.”

    @ed_markey you have to stop ♬ A Moment Apart – ODESZA – Hannah Stater Dafne Valenciano, 19, a college student from California, said that she’s a fan of Mr. Ossoff’s TikTok account. During his campaign season, “he had very funny content and urged young voters to go to the ballots,” Ms. Valenciano said. “Politicians accessing this social media makes it easier for my generation to see their media rather than through news or articles.”Several of the videos posted by Mr. Ossoff, 35, who has moppy brown hair and boyish good looks, have been interpreted by his fans as thirst traps. “YAS DADDY JON,” one user commented on a video of him solemnly discussing climate change. Another wrote, on a post celebrating his first 100 days in office, that Mr. Ossoff was “hot and he knows it,” calling him a “confident king.” The senator has more than half a million followers on TikTok.Some politicians end up on the platform unwittingly. Take, for instance, the viral audio of Kamala Harris declaring, “we did it, Joe” after winning the 2020 election. Though the vice president doesn’t have an account herself, her sound bite has millions of plays.Catering to such viral impulses may seem gimmicky, but it’s a necessary part of any candidate’s TikTok strategy. Political advertising is prohibited on the platform, so politicians can’t promote much of their content to target specific users. And the app pushes videos from all over the world into users’ feeds, making it hard for candidates to reach the ones who might actually vote for them.Daniel Dong, 20, a college student from New Hampshire, said that he often sees posts from politicians in other states in his TikTok feed, but “those races don’t matter to me because I’m never going to be able to vote for a random person from another state.”The Art of the Viral VideoChristina Haswood, a Democratic member of the Kansas House of Representatives, first started her TikTok account in the summer of 2020, when she was running for her seat.“I went to my campaign manager and was like, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if I made a campaign TikTok?’” Ms. Haswood, 27, said.“A lot of folks don’t see an Indigenous politician, a young politician of color,” said Christina Haswood, a member of the Kansas House of Representatives. She hopes to inspire young people to run for office.Arin Yoon for The New York TimesShe won the race, making her one of a handful of Native Americans in the Kansas state legislature. “A lot of folks don’t see an Indigenous politician, a young politician of color. You don’t see that every day across the state, let alone across the country,” Ms. Haswood said. “I want to encourage young people to run for office.”At first, Ms. Haswood created TikToks that were purely informational — videos of her talking directly to the camera, which weren’t getting much traction. When one of the candidates running against her in the primary also started a TikTok, she felt she needed to amp things up.Conner Thrash, at the time a high school student and now a college student at the University of Kansas, started to notice Ms. Haswood’s videos. “I really loved what she stood for,” Mr. Thrash, 19, said. “I realized that I had the ability to bridge the gap between a politician trying to expand their outreach and people like my young, teenage self.”So he reached out to Ms. Haswood, and the two started making content together and perfecting the art of the viral TikTok. A video should strike a careful balance of entertaining but not embarrassing; low-fi without seeming careless; and trendy but innovative, bringing something new to the never-ending scroll.One of their most-watched videos lays out key points of Ms. Haswood’s platform, including the protection of reproductive rights and legalizing recreational marijuana. The video is set to a viral remix of Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” and follows a trend in which TikTok users push the camera away from themselves midsong. (Ms. Haswood used a Penny skateboard to achieve the effect.)

    @haswoodforks Meet Christina Haswood, the future for democratic politics in Kansas.❤️#kansas #democrat #progressive #vote #fyp #foryoupage ♬ Love Story – Disco Lines TikTok may have helped Ms. Haswood win her race, but few candidates have had her success. Several politicians with large TikTok followings, including Matt Little (a former liberal member of the Minnesota Senate) and Joshua Collins (a socialist who ran for U.S. representative for Washington), lost, “pretty badly — in their respective elections,” Ms. Literat said, “so technically they did not succeed from a political perspective.”The behavior of young voters in particular can be hard to predict. In the 2020 presidential election, about half of Americans between the ages 18 and 29 voted, according to the Center for Information & Research on Civic Learning and Engagement at Tufts University — a record turnout for an age group not known for showing up to the polls.Still, “young people help drive the culture,” said Jennifer Stromer-Galley, the author of “Presidential Campaigning in the Internet Age” and a professor of information studies at Syracuse University.“Even though they may or may not ever vote for Jon Ossoff, being on TikTok does help shape Ossoff’s image,” she added. “More people are going to know Ossoff’s name today because of his TikTok stunt than they did before.” More

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    A Boston Mayoral Candidate Is Leaning Into Her Accent

    The mayoral candidate Annissa Essaibi George, the daughter of Polish and Tunisian immigrants, speaks with the accent of working-class Boston. And she’s having some fun with it.BOSTON — The mayoral candidate Annissa Essaibi George was amping up her supporters, who had gathered in an Italian restaurant on the waterfront, a little punchy after a long day of getting out the vote.As she built toward the climax of her speech, a pledge to be “the teacher, the mother and the mayor” the city needs, her accent unfurled like a banner. Those in the crowd were in high spirits, so they chanted it together a second time, then a third.“I will be the teachah!” they shouted, to raucous celebration. “The mothah!” (Cheers.) “And the mayah!” (sustained cheers) “to get it done!”In that catch phrase, which she also featured in two television advertisements, Ms. Essaibi George makes several things clear: that though she identifies as Arab American, she was born and bred in the heart of Irish American Boston. That amid an influx of affluent professionals, she would stand up for Boston’s working class — not just police officers and firefighters, but electricians and construction workers. That her neighborhood, Dorchester, is stamped on her DNA.Boston is a city that cherishes its accent — one that ignores R’s in some places, inserts them in others, and prolongs its A sounds as if it were opening its mouth for a dentist.In the second half of the 20th century, linguists say, New Yorkers began to look down on their own R-less accent, but Bostonians, like Philadelphians, continued to revel in theirs. They were not embarrassed by it; it conveyed toughness and good humor and authenticity. Candidates with pronounced accents have won the last 10 mayoral elections.But this campaign comes at a moment of change, as growing populations — young professionals, Latinos, Asians — redraw Boston’s electoral map. Ms. Essaibi George’s opponent, Michelle Wu, who moved to the area to attend Harvard, speaks to the concerns of many of those new Bostonians. Slowly but steadily, like polar ice caps, the core of working-class Boston is diminishing.Ms. Essaibi George, right, the daughter of Polish and Tunisian immigrants, can effortlessly evoke old-school Boston when campaigning.M. Scott Brauer for The New York TimesWhen Ms. Essaibi George speaks, dropping references to her parish (St. Margaret’s), her favorite teacher (Sister Helen) and her football grudges (the trade of Jimmy Garoppolo), she effortlessly evokes that Boston.“I will say we’ve had a little bit of fun with the accent,” she said in an interview. If you watch the first television ad to feature the phrase, she said, “you can see that I’m doing all I can to not crack up laughing.”Asked whether it conveys a political advantage, she gives a verbal shrug.“I don’t think about it at all,” she said. “It is how I think. It’s how I talk.”The two candidates, both Democrats and at-large city councilors, differ most notably on issues of policing and development: Ms. Wu, who placed first in the preliminary election, has pushed for deeper cuts to the police budget, while Ms. Essaibi George argues for adding hundreds more officers to the force. Ms. Wu supports rent stabilization and the dissolution of the city’s main planning agency, which she says favors politically connected developers, while Ms. Essaibi George, who is married to a developer, warns that such measures could bring building “to almost a grinding halt,” cutting into the city budget and working-class jobs.But it is Ms. Essaibi George’s accent-flexing that has sparked the most spirited discussions. A local filmmaker who recently celebrated a birthday received a card saying, “You’re my SISTAH, you’re a PRODUCAH, and now you’re OLDAH.”Many of Ms. Wu’s supporters roll their eyes at this, saying Ms. Essaibi George has dialed up her Dorchesterese for the occasion. Anyway, they say, the solidarity conveyed by the Boston accent — really a white, working-class Boston accent — is one that excludes much of the city. Recent census data found that only 43 percent of Boston’s population was born in Massachusetts.The mayoral candidate Michelle Wu, who moved to the Boston area as a teenager, differs with Ms. Essaibi George on the issues of policing and development. M. Scott Brauer for The New York Times“It’s a message of belonging,” said Mimi Turchinetz, a community activist who supports Ms. Wu. “That unless you’re from the neighborhood, you don’t have deep roots and can’t represent this city. It’s a statement of belonging, versus the other. That’s the quiet suggestion.”Ms. Wu, the child of Taiwanese immigrants, was raised in a suburb of Chicago; her speech does not carry a strong regional flavor. If she is elected in November, she would be the first mayor since 1925 who had not been born in Boston.Last week, when she was asked by Boston Public Radio whether Ms. Wu’s lack of Boston roots should be a factor in the race, Ms. Essaibi George said it was “relevant to me” and “relevant to a lot of voters.” This prompted a backlash on social media, including from Ms. Wu herself. “Reminder,” Ms. Wu wrote on Twitter. “The Mayor of Boston needs to lead for ALL of us. I’m ready to fight for every resident — whether you’ve been here since birth or chose to make Boston your home along the way.”Ms. Essaibi George spent much of the next day trying to explain her comments, dismissing the perpetual contrast of old Boston and new Boston as “such a silly, silly debate.”“This is not about being born and raised here,” she said. “So many Bostonians are not born and raised in the city. Both my parents immigrated to this country, never mind the city. And for me, it is what makes this city special.”Accents have long been weaponized in Massachusetts politics, usually identifying their owner as the more authentic champion of the working class. James Michael Curley, who served four terms as Boston’s mayor, beginning in 1914, once derided his opponent as having a “Harvard accent with a South Boston face.”Senator Ed Markey’s accent came into play in his race against then-Representative Joseph P. Kennedy III.David Degner for The New York TimesSenator Ed Markey leveraged his accent last year, when during a debate with then-Representative Joseph P. Kennedy III, he turned to Mr. Kennedy and said, “Tell your father right now that you don’t want money to go into a Super PAC that runs negative ads.” The jab was clear: Mr. Markey, a truck driver’s son, was drawing a contrast with the scion of a political dynasty.Almost instantaneously, “Tell ya fatha” became a meme, for sale on T-shirts on Mr. Markey’s campaign websites. It was so popular that Robert DeLeo, then the speaker of the Massachusetts House, posed with a “Tell ya fatha” T-shirt without realizing what it meant, and then privately apologized to Mr. Kennedy, Politico reported.Mr. Markey’s campaign website began to sell T-shirts with a phrase meant to underscore his working-class roots.The Markey CommitteeIt is an accent that can cut both ways, said Marjorie Feinstein-Whittaker, a speech therapist who has spent 20 years helping Massachusetts residents modify their accents.Often, clients seek out her firm, the Whittaker Group, because they fear that in professional settings they’re seen as “working-class, or not so smart.” Sometimes they’re just tired of being asked to say “park the car in Harvard Yard” all the time, which makes them feel “like a circus act.”But there is also something positive about the accent — something intangible, an emotional attachment. “It’s hard for me to answer because I’m not from here, but I think it’s, ‘I’ve got your back, you’ve got my back, we’ve got this bond no one can break,’” Ms. Feinstein-Whittaker said. “It’s like a family thing. It’s solidarity.”Ms. Essaibi George’s history makes her both an insider and an outsider to this tradition. Her father, Ezzeddine, grew up in a Tunisian village and fell in love with her mother, a Polish immigrant, when they were studying in Paris. He followed her back to the Savin Hill section of Dorchester, which was then overwhelmingly white and Irish Catholic.As an Arab and a Muslim, he never felt fully accepted, Ms. Essaibi George said, and scoffed at the idea his daughter could win office, telling her “an Arab girl, with an Arab name, will win nothing in this country.” That she has managed it — winning an at-large City Council seat three times — represents “my inner 15-year-old self” trying to prove him wrong, she said.“I’m very proud of the neighborhood I grew up in,” she said, even though “I was sometimes seen as a little bit of a different kid, because I didn’t come from a traditional white Irish Catholic family.”“I don’t think about it at all,” Ms. Essaibi George said about whether her accent might give her an edge in the race. “It is how I think. It’s how I talk.”M. Scott Brauer for The New York TimesThis combination of attributes — a booster of traditional Boston who also represents change — helped her place second in last month’s crowded preliminary.“We need someone who has been in our shoes,” said Michael Buckman, 38, a janitor who fears the rising cost of living will force him out of South Boston, where his family has lived for nine generations since immigrating from Ireland.“It stems all the way back into the roots of Boston,” he said. “It was a working city. It’s gone the direction of skyscrapers and hospitals and universities. I understand cities evolve. If anything, Boston has evolved a little too much.”As for Ms. Essaibi George’s accent, it is an advantage, said Douglas Vinitsky, 45, a sheet-metal worker who was waiting to meet her at a campaign stop.Though he “wasn’t raised uppity,” he said, his mother tried for years to train him to pronounce his Rs, warning that he would be seen as uneducated. Mr. Vinitsky disagreed so strongly that he leaned deeper into his accent just to make a point. And it has never cost him.“Nobody else in the world cared how I spoke,” he said. “It didn’t even matter in Boston.” More

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    An ‘Army of 16-Year-Olds’ Takes On the Democrats

    Young progressives are an unpredictable new factor in Massachusetts elections. They’re ardent, and organized, and they don’t take orders.BOSTON — Dana Depelteau, a hotel manager, had just gone public with a long-shot candidacy for mayor in Boston when he noticed that someone in city politics was going after him online.The effect of this attack, he said, was lightning-fast and pervasive. The morning after he announced his candidacy on Twitter, he showed up at his local barbershop and, while staring at himself in the mirror, overheard a customer describing his views as white supremacist.“I’m thinking, ‘Man, politics is dirty,’” recalled Mr. Depelteau. He rushed home to fire back at his critic, a sharp-edged progressive who had dug up some of Mr. Depelteau’s old social media posts and was recirculating them online. But that, he discovered, was a big mistake.“I didn’t know how old she was,” he explained. “I just knew she was a prominent person.”That is how he became aware of Calla Walsh, a leader in the group of activists known here as the Markeyverse. Ms. Walsh, a 16-year-old high school junior, has many of the attributes of Generation Z: She likes to refer to people (like the president) as “bestie.” She occasionally gets called away from political events to babysit her little brother. She is slightly in the doghouse, parent-wise, for getting a C+ in precalculus.She is also representative of an influential new force in Democratic politics, activists who cut their teeth on the presidential campaigns of Senators Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren.The full strength of these activists — many of whom are not old enough to vote — did not become clear until last fall, when they were key to one of the year’s most surprising upsets, helping Senator Edward J. Markey defeat a primary challenge from Representative Joseph P. Kennedy III, who had been heavily favored to win.In conversation, Ms. Walsh tends to downplay her movement, describing them as “Markey teens” and “theater kids” who “formerly ran, like, Taylor Swift or K-pop stan accounts.”Canvassers for Ms. Wu in May. One test of the young progressives’ clout will come in the upcoming Boston mayoral race.Philip Keith for The New York TimesYoung progressive people are an unpredictable new factor in Massachusetts elections.Philip Keith for The New York TimesBut the Markeyverse carried out a devastating political maneuver, firmly fixing the idea of Senator Markey as a left-wing icon and Representative Kennedy as challenging him from the right. They carried out ambitious digital organizing, using social media to conjure up an in-person work force — “an army of 16-year-olds,” as one political veteran put it, who can “do anything on the internet.”They are viewed apprehensively by many in Massachusetts’ Democratic establishment, who say that they smear their opponents and are never held accountable; that they turn on their allies at the first whiff of a scandal; and that they are attacking Democrats in a coordinated effort to push the whole party to the left, much as the Tea Party did, on the right, to the Republicans.Ms. Walsh, for one, is cheerfully aware of all those critiques.In a podcast this spring, she recalled the day last summer when the Kennedy campaign singled her out in a statement, charging that negative campaigning online had created a vicious, dangerous atmosphere.“I won’t lie, I was terrified,” she said. But then, she said, the fear evaporated.“That’s when I realized I had a stake in this game: They are scared of me, a random teenager on the internet who just happened to be doing some organizing with her friends,” she said. “I think that made us all think, ‘Hey, they’re scared of us. We have power over them.’”The next roundAfter Mr. Markey beat Mr. Kennedy in the primary, Ms. Walsh taped a copy of his victory speech to the wall of her bedroom in Cambridge and turned her attention to down-ballot races.In his speech, Senator Markey had specifically thanked the Markeyverse for helping him beat Representative Kennedy. During a cycle in which campaigning moved almost entirely online, the young activists had done more than rebrand the candidate.They seemed to have affected long-established voting patterns: In Massachusetts, the turnout among registered voters between 18 to 24 had shot up to 20.9 percent in the 2020 primary from 6.7 percent in 2018, and 2.1 percent in 2016, according to Tufts’ Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement.The race had left them with a heady sense of power. Tristan Niedzielski, 17, a high school senior from Marlborough, decided to skip Model U.N. this year and instead signed up to work on two campaigns, one for a seat in the state House of Representatives, and one for a regional school committee.He applied digital approaches he had picked up in the Markeyverse, using chat groups, direct messages and texts to convert friend networks into a volunteer work force. Both of his candidates lost, but narrowly, and he said he had learned something bigger: Outside of major cities, Massachusetts Democrats are not running sophisticated grass-roots campaigns.Tristan Niedzielski, 17, at rally in Boston on Saturday. Mr. Niedzielski, a high school senior from Marlborough, decided to skip Model U.N. this year and instead signed up to work on two campaigns.Philip Keith for The New York Times“It’s this lax culture of ‘Who do you know?,’” he said. “A lot of the state has never really seen any type of campaign political structure.”Some of what the young progressives have done can best be described as opposition research, targeting Democrats whom they consider too far right.In December, Ms. Walsh dug up off-color Twitter posts by Valentino Capobianco, a Kennedy supporter and candidate for a State House seat. (A few weeks later, allegations of sexual misconduct emerged against Mr. Capobianco, who would not comment for this article. He lost the support of leading Democrats, and won 8 percent of the vote.)Then she went after Mr. Depelteau, 36, a self-described “centrist Democrat,” recirculating social media posts he had made criticizing the Black Lives Matter movement. (Mr. Depelteau, who withdrew from the race in April, said it was not because of Ms. Walsh’s criticisms. He then left Twitter, which he called “toxic.”)She maintains a detailed spreadsheet on the declared candidates for mayor in Boston, monitoring donations from developers, police and energy companies. She runs trainings for young activists, entertaining her Twitter audience with juicy nuggets from campaign finance records, like a state representative who used campaign funds to expense AirPods.Her father, Chris Walsh, the director of Boston University’s college writing program, said her political enthusiasms have drifted over the last few years, from the existential cause of climate change to an exceedingly detailed focus on government and policy.Plus, he said, “Calla is also a 16-year-old. Like most, and maybe more than most, she’s not particularly communicative.”“Some of what I say is informed by looking at her Twitter,” he said.Senator Ed Markey during a news conference held to reintroduce the Green New Deal at the Capitol in April. Progressives embraced his candidacy, which focused heavily on his record on climate.Sarah Silbiger/Getty ImagesThe surge of grass-roots activism has come as a jolt in Massachusetts, which, because it is so firmly in the grip of one party, does not have a history of competitive primaries.“The old guard, the consulting class, hasn’t figured out a way of combating it,” said Jordan Meehan, 29, who turned to Ms. Walsh to organize digital outreach for a campaign last year, when he challenged a 34-year incumbent for a State House seat. He lost, but credits Ms. Walsh with devising a creative approach, reaching out individually to his social media followers and recruiting them for events and volunteer shifts.“It really does threaten the whole consultant-industrial complex,” he said.Numerous political strategists in Massachusetts refused to comment for this article. This is in part because, as one of them put it, “I don’t want to be bashing high schoolers on the record,” but equally, perhaps, because they are wary of becoming targets online.The Kennedy-Markey race left a bitter aftertaste for much of the state’s political class, who say the young activists overlooked much of Mr. Markey’s 44-year congressional record and unnecessarily vilified Mr. Kennedy.“Either Kennedy or Markey would have been good for the things they care most about,” said Matt Bennett, the co-founder of Third Way, a moderate Democratic think tank based in Washington, D.C. “The idea that Joe Kennedy wouldn’t have been good on climate change is ridiculous. The notion that he wasn’t pure enough is a thing we have to be careful about.”And he warned against overestimating the power of the Markeyverse, noting that since that primary, many challenges to moderate Democrats have fallen short. Even in Massachusetts, he noted, Joe Biden won the presidential primary, beating out Mr. Sanders and Ms. Warren.“Everyone pays far too much attention to Twitter,” he said. “It’s a fun-house mirror. It’s not real. It’s why so many journalists fell into the Bernie-is-inevitable trap. This is not where Democratic voters are.”One test of the young activists’ clout will come in the upcoming Boston mayoral race, in which many former Markey volunteers have thrown their support behind Michelle Wu, a Warren ally who has proposed major changes to policy on climate, transportation and housing. City elections in Boston have, traditionally, been decided by middle-aged and elderly voters. But the surge of youth activism has thrown all those assumptions into the air.Michelle Wu, a mayoral candidate, gathered with teenage canvassers in Copley Square in Boston earlier this month.Philip Keith for The New York Times“It’s energy from the bottom up, it’s not some Watertown committee chair telling people how to vote,” said the political strategist Doug Rubin, who is advising the campaign of Boston’s acting mayor, Kim Janey. “Previously, all the insiders used to find out who was going to win, and then they would want to be with the winners.”He said he welcomed the change. If it makes consultants nervous, Mr. Rubin added, it’s meant to.“People who say, ‘I can’t control it, I don’t understand it,’ well, that’s the whole point — you can’t control it,” Mr. Rubin said. “If you’re good on the issues they care about, they’re going to be with you. If you’re not, they’re not.”Markeyverse vs. MarkeyThat became clear last week when the Markeyverse went on the offensive.Their target, this time, was Mr. Markey himself, who on Tuesday had put out a carefully worded Twitter thread on the mounting violence in Israel, apportioning some blame on both the Israeli and Palestinian sides.This was a disappointment for many of the young progressives, who had been hoping for a sharp rebuke of Israel, like the ones that came from Mr. Sanders and Ms. Warren, or from Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.Though Mr. Markey’s voting record on foreign policy was no secret — he voted to authorize the occupation of Iraq in 2002, for example — it had faded into the background in their embrace of his candidacy, which focused heavily on his record on climate. Now, the group chats and Slack channels that comprise the Markeyverse were flooded with emotion, disappointment and betrayal.“It’s horrible to watch, and it’s disappointing,” said Emerson Toomey, 21, one of the authors of Ed’s Reply Guys, a Twitter account that helped establish Mr. Markey as a progressive star.Ms. Toomey, a senior at Northeastern University, was computing, with some bitterness, the “hundreds of thousands of hours” of unpaid labor she and her friends had provided to the senator. It made her question the compact she had assumed existed, that, in exchange for their support, he would accommodate their views on the issues that mattered.“Maybe he just said those things to us to get elected,” she said.Ms. Walsh, for her part, had shifted into full organizational mode, circulating a letter of protest that, she hoped, could induce Senator Markey to revisit his positions on the conflict.“He owes us much of his victory,” she said, “so we do have leverage over him.”Over the days that followed, Mr. Markey’s office was buffeted with calls from young volunteers. Twitter was brutal. John Walsh, who had been Mr. Markey’s campaign manager and is now his chief of staff, said he understood that they were disappointed and sounded regretful. (He is no relation to Calla.)Some of what the young progressives have done can best be described as opposition research, targeting Democrats whom they consider too far right.Philip Keith for The New York Times“I can tell you, Senator Markey loves these people,” he said of the young organizers. “He fought very hard for everything he told them he would fight for.”The Markeyverse, he said, now faced a key moment in their movement, determining whether they were willing to bend to preserve a relationship with an ally.“If compromising is not in your toolbox, that’s a hard thing,” he said. “Finding that balance is something, I think, anybody who stays at this for a long period of time figures out.”Late on Friday evening, Mr. Markey’s office offered a second statement on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This time, it called on Israel to seek an immediate cease-fire, and invoked “defenseless Palestinian families who are already living in fear for their lives and the lives of their children.” Mr. Walsh said the statement was a response to Israel’s plans to deploy ground troops.It could have been recorded as a win for the Markeyverse, a sign that the senator had to pay attention to their views. But Ms. Walsh wanted to push further, pointing to a list of four policy demands that volunteers had sent to the senator’s office. The moment had become about proving something different: that the young progressives care more about issues than alliances. She concluded that they had been somewhat naïve last year. “We were politically infatuated with Ed during the campaign, which caused us to have those blind spots,” she said. “Looking back, I think we should not have developed those blind spots.”She said that, in the future, she would probably never support another candidate whose views on the Middle East did not line up with hers. Then she ticked off a laundry list of legislation she would be happy to work on with Senator Markey, like climate change and universal health care.She sounded, for better or for worse, like an experienced political hand.“It was never about him as an individual,” she said. “We will always have this community, whether or not he is the figurehead. We have moved beyond this being about one candidate.” More