A man, a couch, a meme

Hello! I’m just back from a little over two weeks in Asia…vacation in Tokyo with the kids, and then a week of work in Taiwan. It was a great trip. I’m gathering my thoughts about the week in Taiwan, where disinformation campaigns from China are a chronic condition, and where the information war surrounding Ukraine is seen as a harbinger of what is likely to happen to them. 

But today’s newsletter isn’t going to be about that very serious issue. It’s going to be about JD Vance and his couch, because that story made it overseas, and I found myself having to explain it over dinner to normal people who are not extremely online. The vice presidential nominee — what was people are saying he did? For real? Why do they think that? 

The JD Vance/couch story is a perfect example of a modern rumor. Rumors have always been a part of the human experience. They’re unofficial information circulating in society, uncorroborated stories that spread from person to person in an effort to share information, entertain, and influence. The claim about JD Vance (U.S. senator, author of Hillbilly Elegy, and vice presidential nominee) allegedly having sex with a couch is a case study in how rumors manifest in the digital age.

The Birth of a Rumor

It all started with a salacious shitpost by @rickrudescalves on Twitter (dba X) on the evening of July 15: “can't say for sure but he might be the first vp pick to have admitted in a ny times bestseller to fucking an inside-out latex glove shoved between two couch cushions (vance, hillbilly elegy, pp. 179-181)”

Rumors require a hint of plausibility — a claim that seems possible, to justify continuing to spread it. In this case, the couch-lover rumor included a highly specific citation (page numbers!). The allegation was salacious and novel, and came out at a time when a lot of people were digging into Vance’s old blog posts and writing. Either way, it was enough for those who wanted to believe, or who were willing to suspend disbelief to own a political enemy. And so, the claim caught fire.

Amplification and Spread

Rumors gain momentum through repetition and embellishment, spreading through networks from person to person:  “Did you hear that JD Vance…” In the digital age, social media acts as a powerful amplifier, allowing rumors to spread rapidly and widely. Within hours, the original tweet had been retweeted thousands of times, but more importantly, other users were creating their own takes. Curation and trending algorithms pick up on high-engagement content and themes, so the topic was pushed into the feeds of more people. As the takes proliferated they were screenshotted, and hopped off of Twitter to other platforms. Threads, Bluesky, and TikTok users picked up the rumor with glee. It was, by this point, becoming a meme.

Ambiguity and Social Context

Rumors thrive in environments of ambiguity, but people are more likely to believe and spread those that confirm their preexisting beliefs and biases. Politicians…you just never know what they’re into! Vance’s book was clearly confessional; there were stories swirling around about how it revealed that he once thought he might be gay. Vance had also become a polarizing figure in American politics, and the rumor tapped into a longstanding image problem: a lot of people think he’s really weird. The original post caught on because it seemed sufficiently plausible…but more importantly people were willing to suspend disbelief because it also was just a lot of fun to joke about. Rumors can be very fun to share, and they’re about social signaling as much as trying to spread information. This was, for the left, an opportunity for entertainment and camaraderie. 

The Lifecycle of a Rumor

Rumors have a lifecycle: they emerge, spread, peak, and eventually fade away (though always with the potential to recur). The JD Vance couch rumor might have followed this pattern…but instead, it became a meme. This happened in large part, I would argue, because of The Fact-Check. 

To correct the record around rumors or misinformation on social media, fact-checkers write analyses that are themselves shared on social media platforms. In the case of Vance and the couch, the Associated Press came out with a banger of a heading on its piece dispelling the vicious, untruthful rumor: “No, JD Vance did not have sex with a couch”.

Sometimes a fact-check serves to inadvertently amplify a claim, introducing it to people who otherwise would never have known about it. This eminently-shareable headline was such a case, particularly because it sparked quibbling about how the AP fact-checkers could possibly say such a thing with such conviction. Vance had never written about it in Hillbilly Elegy, but the core claim remains unknowable. Screenshots of the fact-check sparked a second round of gleeful shares, and the whole thing became a meme. The AP changed the headline and at one point pulled the fact-check down entirely, but the horse had left the barn. At this point, it doesn’t matter that the claim is not true — the people sharing it are likely almost all aware of that fact. The point of a meme is that it serves as an inside joke; JD Vance’s Couch is going to follow the Trump campaign for months to come. 

Impact and Consequences

The JD Vance couch meme illustrates not only the potential impact of rumors but the challenge of responding to them. For a politician, even a baseless claim can tarnish their reputation, derail a campaign, and distract from more important conversations. This has been true since long before the advent of the internet; one of my favorite political books, Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72, includes a story of Lyndon Johnson using a manufactured rumor to target a political enemy:

“The race was close and Johnson was getting worried. Finally he told his campaign manager to start a massive rumour campaign about his opponent’s life-long habit of enjoying carnal knowledge of his barnyard sows.

“Christ, we can’t get away with calling him a pig-fucker,” the campaign manager protested. “Nobody’s going to believe a thing like that.”

“I know,” Johnson replied. “But let’s make the sonofabitch deny it.” 

Interestingly, the author of the original Vance/couch tweet has just given an interview that dropped a few hours ago, and he references this story as inspiration. In this case (as John Oliver gleefully noted) Vance didn’t deny it; he seems to have simply ignored it, and said nothing. This is the challenge that salacious rumors present: a serious denial would have exposed him to more ridicule and new memes, no denial essentially does the same thing, and so trying to get in on the joke might have been the best response. I’m actually curious to hear from communications people on this point. The decision to ignore a rumor is obviously an attempt to avoid giving it further oxygen, but in the digital age of political warfare, the void of your silence is filled by content from your enemies. In the broadcast media era the news cycle moved on, but once something is memified it remains interesting for far longer.

Anyway, the JD Vance couch rumor is a compelling case study in how an extremely online rumor turns into a meme. It highlights the speed and reach of digital amplification, the role of ambiguity, the influence of social context, and the sheer enjoyment that motivates people to participate. Since we live in an information environment in which dubious claims spread across online factions at unprecedented speeds, understanding these dynamics is more important than ever.