Are Inflatable Costumes Helping or Hurting the Protest Message?
Over the past few weeks, considerable media attention has been given to protestors wearing inflatable or oversized novelty suits at anti-Trump demonstrations, including the recent No Kings protests. And yes, most of the people dressed up as frogs, dinosaurs, unicorns, and chickens look like they’re having fun. But as these images circulate, it’s worth asking whether the spectacle that attracts attention might also dilute what that attention is for.
Admittedly, there are at least three main reasons why these costumes have become popular at these venues. First, they provide memorable visuals that spread across social media, increasing the protest’s reach and visibility. Second, their absurdity and the humor they create help keep the atmosphere light and nonviolent, signaling that these gatherings are meant to be peaceful and friendly. Third, the imagery helps undercut Trump and his allies’ narrative that protestors are violent extremists, because it’s difficult to take that claim seriously when the demonstrators include inflatable chickens.
These are all legitimate tactical advantages, and protest movements throughout history have used the power of humor and performance in shaping their communication strategies. For example, the Yippies’ absurdist protests in the 1960s and ACT UP’s theatrical demonstrations in the 1980s both used spectacle to dramatize the importance of their causes. Their tactics were entertaining, but the laughter served a direct political purpose.
But I wonder if something gets lost in translation. When protest images go viral primarily because they’re entertaining rather than because they communicate specific demands, there’s a risk that observers remember the spectacle without engaging with the substance. The question isn’t whether people in dinosaur suits are taking the issues seriously, but whether their chosen medium of expression helps or hinders their political message from landing with audiences who need persuading.
I’m not suggesting that protesters should abandon humor or embrace solemnity. Nor am I insisting there’s only one “correct” way to protest. Different tactics reach different audiences, and humor can make difficult political messages more accessible. But it’s worth asking: when someone sees an inflatable chicken, are they more likely to consider the protest’s demands, or do they simply keep scrolling? Does the costume invite curiosity about the cause, or does it become the entire story?
Maybe I’m overthinking this, and the protesters themselves are best positioned to judge what works. But in an attention economy, like the one we currently live with, I hope the message doesn’t get buried beneath the costume.
Image Credit
Title: No Kings Protest
(location Madison, Wisconsin, October 18, 2025
Photographer: Kevin Fager
