Tom Steyer funneled $310,000 to Jane Fonda's PAC before she endorsed his governor's bid

Billionaire Tom Steyer sent $310,000 to a political action committee tied to Jane Fonda, and then Fonda turned around and endorsed his California gubernatorial campaign, cut an ad calling him trustworthy, and rallied alongside him at a Los Angeles event, federal campaign filings show.

The money trail, first reported by the New York Post, adds another layer to growing questions about how the hedge-fund billionaire has used his personal fortune to cultivate political support, from Hollywood celebrities to social media influencers to fellow Democratic politicians who later backed his candidacy.

Steyer contributed $260,000 to the Jane Fonda Climate PAC between March and May 2024. His wife, Kat Taylor, added another $30,000 to the same PAC in 2023 and 2024. And Steyer himself had already given $50,000 to Fonda's committee back in 2022. The combined total: roughly $340,000 from the couple to a single PAC, before Fonda became one of Steyer's most visible campaign surrogates.

The ad, the rally, and the endorsement

On April 21, Fonda appeared in a campaign ad declaring:

"Progressives like me trust Tom."

Two weeks later, on May 7, Fonda rallied with Steyer at a campaign event in Los Angeles. The Jane Fonda Climate PAC issued a statement explaining its endorsement in straightforward terms:

"Jane Fonda Climate PAC endorsed Tom Steyer solely because he is ready and willing to stand up to the fossil fuel industry and fight for a livable future. Tom has a long record of climate advocacy, he supports making polluters pay and is unequivocal in his support for transitioning away from fossil fuels."

The word "solely" does a lot of work in that sentence. The filings tell a more complicated story, one in which six figures flowed from Steyer's bank accounts to Fonda's PAC before the cameras rolled.

A pattern, not an isolated case

The Fonda payments are not the only instance where Steyer's money preceded an endorsement. Federal and state campaign filings reveal a broader web of financial ties to political figures who later threw their support behind his gubernatorial bid.

Former California Controller Betty Yee endorsed Steyer after dropping her own campaign for governor. Yee had previously received maximum contributions totaling $27,700 from Steyer and Taylor during her 2014 and 2018 state controller races. Former California state senator Toni Atkins, who also dropped her gubernatorial bid, endorsed Steyer after receiving $9,200 from him in 2016 and 2022.

Then there is Rep. Ro Khanna of Silicon Valley. After Khanna endorsed Steyer's gubernatorial campaign, Taylor gave $7,000 to Khanna's congressional campaign in May. The pattern of large payments flowing to Steyer's political allies has become a recurring feature of the billionaire's campaigns.

None of these contributions are alleged to be illegal. But the timing, money first, endorsement second, raises the kind of questions that voters in a democracy deserve to have answered plainly.

The influencer operation

Steyer's spending on endorsements from politicians and celebrities runs parallel to a separate controversy: his campaign's payments to social media influencers. Campaign filings show Steyer paid Uruguayan American activist Carlos Eduardo Espina $100,000 for what Espina described to the New York Times as "advising." Another influencer, Isaiah Washington, received $10,000 from Steyer before later deleting his social media account.

The influencer payments drew sharp criticism. The New York Post reported that California's Fair Political Practices Commission launched a probe into whether Steyer's paid influencer content was properly disclosed to viewers. Critics alleged some influencers failed to disclose they were being paid by the campaign and later deleted their promotional posts.

"Voters deserve to know when they're watching campaign funded content," Jose Torres said, as quoted in connection with the probe. Beatrice Gomberg put it more directly: "I just want Steyer like everyone else to follow the law. This is literally just about disclosure."

Steyer's campaign spokesperson, Kevin Liao, defended the payments in an emailed statement:

"Creators deserve to be fairly compensated for their work, just like any other professional. Unlike other campaigns, we're fully transparent: every payment we make is publicly disclosed, as required by California law."

The claim of transparency sits uneasily alongside the fact that some influencers reportedly did not disclose the paid nature of their posts, and that a state regulatory body found the matter worth investigating. The intra-Democratic friction around Steyer's campaign tactics has only intensified as more filings come to light.

This isn't new for Steyer

The current controversy echoes problems from Steyer's 2020 presidential campaign. During that race, Joe Biden's campaign accused Steyer of paying Black lawmakers or their companies in exchange for endorsements, the New York Times reported at the time. A top Steyer aide reportedly offered campaign contributions to Iowa politicians in return for their backing.

Former Iowa state senator Tom Courtney described the approach to the Associated Press:

"It was presented more as, he has provided financial support to other downballot candidates who've endorsed him, and could do the same for you."

Those exchanges during the 2020 campaign were not deemed illegal. But they established a template, Steyer's money arrives, and endorsements follow, that has now resurfaced in California with even larger sums involved.

Steyer, who made more than $2 billion running hedge fund Farallon Capital, has poured roughly $130 million into his current campaign. Despite that staggering outlay, he trails both Democratic frontrunner Xavier Becerra and Republican Steve Hilton in recent polls. The California governor's race has remained volatile, but Steyer's spending advantage has not translated into a polling lead.

The real question voters should ask

Liao, the campaign spokesperson, insisted that every endorsement Steyer has received reflects genuine policy alignment:

"Every single endorsement Tom has earned is because he is on the right side of the issues, making polluters pay, pushing single payer, and building affordable homes. While his opponents offer platitudes and take checks from big corporations, Tom is putting forward a vision that addresses Californians who can't afford to live in California anymore."

That framing, Steyer as the populist champion of working Californians, is a tough sell when the filings show a billionaire writing six-figure checks to the very people who then appear on camera vouching for him. Populism funded by a $2 billion fortune and sustained by paid endorsements is not populism. It is marketing.

The question is not whether any single payment broke the law. The question is what kind of political system produces endorsements that arrive on a schedule dictated by wire transfers. Steyer's campaign insists the money and the support are unrelated. The filings suggest voters should decide that for themselves.

Questions about questionable campaign-finance practices on the Democratic side keep piling up. Steyer's operation is just the latest example of a party that lectures the country about dark money while its own candidates write checks in broad daylight and call it grassroots support.

When a billionaire has to pay this many people to say nice things about him, the endorsements tell you less about the candidate than the price tags do.