In the end, Raman’s coalition proved far more robust offline than Pratt’s did online.However, the councilmember’s journey to the runoff was tumultuou
In the end, Raman’s coalition proved far more robust offline than Pratt’s did online.
However, the councilmember’s journey to the runoff was tumultuous. Raman was getting hit from every direction during the primary. Pratt tried to portray Raman—a member of the Los Angeles chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America—as a limousine liberal and out-of-touch leftist ideologue. On the other side of the aisle, Raman’s ideological peers on the city council including Eunisses Hernandez, Ysabel Jurado, and Hugo Soto-Martínez—all members of the Democratic Socialists of America— endorsed Mayor Bass.
Pratt took an early lead on Raman after the first vote totals were released on election night. But, as late-arriving ballots were counted, Raman consolidated support across many of the city’s younger, renter-heavy, racially diverse, and college-educated neighborhoods—revealing the enormous gap between internet momentum and actual electoral infrastructure.
What followed was hardly surprising. After months of distancing himself from the conspiratorial thinking that formerly aligned him with Alex Jones, Pratt began hinting at election integrity issues as his lead disappeared. Accusations of election fraud levied by prominent conservatives including President Donald Trump and Florida Governor Ron DeSantis also began to roll in.
However, others refuted the claims. “The election fraud theories in LA make no sense for many reasons (obviously Karen Bass would prefer to face Pratt in a very blue city than another Democrat), but if you count votes this way, over weeks, when most of the world counts immediately, then you’re inviting suspicions,” wrote political commentator Glenn Greenwald on X.
Meanwhile, the prediction markets helped fuel more accusations.
For weeks leading up to Election Day, Polymarket and Kalshi showed Pratt with robust odds of advancing to the runoff despite circumscribed public polling. The markets created a self-reinforcing cycle: Pratt’s internet popularity drove betting activity, which in turn generated headlines and the appearance of political momentum.
Once the race started slipping away, Pratt’s content machine also noticeably slowed. His Instagram stories—once a relentless stream of nearly 100 posts per day—dropped dramatically. He began blocking critics on X, including director Joe Russo and MS NOW reporter Jacob Soboroff. He also echoed claims circulating among conservative influencers that Democrats were manufacturing votes by somehow exploiting the city’s homeless population.
As of publishing, Pratt hadn’t issued any statements or appeared publicly since the race was called on Monday night. And Mayor Bass’s campaign has already turned its sights on Raman, echoing attacks used by Pratt during the primary. “A campaign against Nithya Raman, who allows encampments near schools and cuts the police force, is one Mayor Bass looks forward to winning,” said Douglas Herman, a Bass campaign strategist, in a statement released Monday night.
The lasting lesson of the Pratt campaign may be that social media can manufacture momentum and distort perceptions of viability. But while Pratt’s message clearly resonated with many voters who are hurting and feel unheard, elections still require broad coalitions that extend beyond the algorithmically engaged.
A week after the election, the “Spencer Pratt for Mayor” graffiti had vanished from the walls at Runyon Canyon in Raman’s council district. For months, the graffiti had been painted over, retagged—in the same unmistakable handwriting—and painted over again: a fitting metaphor for a provocateur whose career has survived repeated attempts to write him off.
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