Hasan Piker dubs it the bus driver test: “You get on a bus and you have half a minute to describe any online phenomena took place to the bus driver before them turning to you and going, ‘Get off the damn bus.’” The vast majority of online debate, no matter how heated, fails the test, he argues – not least a strange event last weekend, when a person on a Dublin street requested to take a picture with Piker, then held up a picture of his dog and shouted “Free Kaya!” Forget the bus driver; attempting to explain the significance of this particular event might well take the rest of this article.
Piker increasingly exists in this liminal zone increasingly these days. Until fairly recently, the 34-year-old was known primarily to the digitally immersed, especially Americans in their 20s and 30s, largely thanks to his presence on the streaming channel Twitch. But since the last presidential election, Piker has transformed into an in-demand voice in “traditional media” for his perspectives on the struggling political left, and especially that inordinately fretted-over demographic, young men.
Predictably, this also makes Piker a prime hate figure of the political right. To his detractors there is a lot to criticize: his blunt political stances; his cultural background; his associations with left-wing politicians. But they also resent the fact that Piker – physically imposing and charismatic – does not fit typical lefty stereotypes. He has leveraged his appearance in revealing magazine spreads or social media posts.
“I’ll be honest, I had no clue that this is what I was going to be doing,” states Piker. “Like, if someone were to ask me, did you ever think that you’d become a Twitch streamer? I’d be like, what is Twitch?”
It’s early and he’s getting ready to start his regular 11am show. He typically streams live for seven or eight hours straight, talking improvised about the news, pop culture, what he’s up to, playing video games, engaging with memes and media clips, and interacting with the never-ending stream of messages from viewers.
Building himself on Twitch, which is primarily for livestreaming video games, was a conscious decision, Piker explains. His media career started out with The Young Turks, the progressive online news network. Piker’s parents are Turkish immigrants, and he grew up between New Jersey and Istanbul before majoring in political science. He eventually hosted his own show on the network in 2016 but in 2018 he decided to go solo on Twitch, to provide an alternative to what he saw as dominantly conservative, and often divisive views that permeated the space.
“You can find ideological diversity among the gamers, among the developers, amongst the consumers, but unfortunately, the market for political expression in this arena is so overwhelmingly dominated by the right,” he says.
This is the fundamental problem with the American left in general, argues Piker: they’ve ceded so many arenas to the right. “You still have to market your ideas … but they simply completely gave up on all notion of marketing or branding.”
Piker is regularly sharply critical of recent administrations on his show, particularly on foreign policy, but he is no loyal member of the dominant center-left party. His own politics are broadly social democratic and “compassion-driven”, he explains. “My viewpoint is actually the normal position in much of the world.”
One of the risks of Piker’s style of informal, relatable commentary is that he’ll occasionally go too far, which provides his opponents fodder. He has been temporarily banned from Twitch multiple times for perceived offensive content. Most notoriously, in 2019, in the context of a broader critique, he made a comment about a national tragedy that was amplified by conservative media outlets. Piker later expressed regret and said the language was inappropriate.
Similarly, Piker’s vocal support for Palestinians and criticism of certain state policies have led to accusations of bias, which he denies. He has also been mocked for expressing praise for another major global power, after a trip there.
“I have no issues getting attacked by people on the right. I relish when my enemies hate me,” he says. “It is what it is.”
The vitriol constantly risks to spill offline, however. On one occasion, Piker was detained by American border agents on his re-entry from travel abroad. They interrogated him about his political opinions before releasing him. “I think they did it because they are aware of who I am,” he said.
These levels of enmity help explain the “Free Kaya!” incident in Dublin. It started with a Twitch stream where his dog, Kaya, made a noise suddenly. Online detractors swiftly concluded that Piker was harming the animal, igniting a meme-fueled controversy dubbed “the collar incident.” Even a major animal rights organization put out a statement. This led to the surprise encounter by a random in Dublin.
Piker handled the situation in his stride. Online, though, the encounter was clipped from his live stream and shared with his reply edited out. “They wanted to make it look like I was devastated,” he said.
This highlights the chasm between the offline and online worlds, he explains: “It’s very difficult to maintain a very hostile energy in the real world without coming across as unhinged and odd. Exchanges on the internet foster this environment where you can be as hostile as you want.”
That Dublin encounter was fairly low stakes. In the US, he feels less safe. The assassination of a right-wing commentator was a shocking example of where this online hate can end up. Piker watched the event develop in real time on his stream.
Piker continues to do real-life streams in the US. “I can’t let fear guide my life. I’ve gotten death threats for over a decade,” he says. Toxic one-sided fan dynamics come with the territory, he accepts.
Having been prescient about the last election, how does Piker view the next few years? “Things change quite rapidly, but if you look at the avenues where there is some semblance of hope, it’s the left candidates that are actually really galvanising the public,” he says. He points to the progressive “wing”.
“We have to lean into that, because I feel like it’s a matter of critical importance at this point,” he continues. “So I will do anything in my power to try and avoid a worse alternative.”
The American left could perhaps do with someone like Piker. But it doesn’t sound as if Piker is tempted in mainstream political office. He makes periodic media guest spots, but he’s not drawn further into legacy media, he says. “The audience is moving in my direction, and away from traditional publishers.”
But on top of that, he still enjoys it: “I find a lot of personal fulfilment in what I do.” As he’s talking, he’s got one eye on the clock. Another marathon live stream is about to begin, and he’s itching to get started.