But the episode showed what American democracy had become after Citizens United: a candidate could spend years building a public argument, and an industry could arrive late with enough money to change the weather.
Porter was not alone. In New York, Representative Jamaal Bowman faced the most expensive House primary in history after outside spending turned a district race into a national battlefield. AdImpact reported that spending reached $24.8 million, with 60 percent coming from United Democracy Project, the AIPAC-affiliated super PAC.² In Ohio, Nina Turner gave the system its bluntest translation after a billionaire-funded super PAC backed her opponent: “Those corporate interests don’t make donations, they make investments.”³
Most Americans have never read Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission. Many have never heard of it. But they know the late attack ad, the patriotic committee name, the mailer on the kitchen counter, the text message from a group that sounds local but is not. They know the imbalance of an election in which a candidate asks ordinary people for $25 while an outside group receives a check large enough to dominate the airwaves.
The Supreme Court did not invent money in politics. Wealth had influence before 2010. Corporations had lobbyists. Donors had access. But Citizens United, together with SpeechNow.org v. FEC, accelerated and institutionalized a less visible layer of American elections. The first decision protected independent spending by corporations and unions. The second allowed independent-expenditure-only committees to accept unlimited contributions. The firewall was coordination: as long as the outside group did not formally coordinate with the candidate, the money could be unlimited.⁴ ⁵
That firewall became the architecture of the modern super PAC system. The official campaign still has contribution limits. The outside campaign can take unlimited money. The candidate must say, “I approve this message.” The outside group may give the voter only a committee name.
By 2024, the scale was no longer subtle. The Brennan Center reported that dark-money groups, nonprofits, and shell companies spent more than $1.9 billion in the 2024 federal election cycle, nearly double the previous record in 2020.⁶ The Associated Press, citing OpenSecrets, reported more than $4 billion in outside spending in the 2024 federal elections, almost twelve times the level in 2008.⁷
The Court’s theory depended on two assumptions: that independent spending does not corrupt in the way direct contributions do, and that disclosure would let voters judge the speaker behind the message. Both assumptions now look thin. A super PAC may not formally coordinate with a campaign, but it can understand the candidate’s interests, hire familiar consultants, and spend in ways that make its value obvious. Disclosure can also exist on paper while failing in practice. The voter may see the name of the group that bought the ad, but not the nonprofit, shell company, donor network, or economic interest behind it.
This is not bribery in the cartoon sense. It is a shift in political gravity. Candidates learn who can spend against them. Officeholders learn which industries can make life difficult. Voters see the message after the money has already passed through the system.
That shift matters because economic inequality is supposed to be correctable through democracy. Citizens United did not write the tax code, weaken unions, raise rents, set medical prices, or concentrate corporate power. Those forces have longer histories. But the decision helped build a political system in which concentrated wealth can more easily defend itself against democratic correction.