Campaigns Deploy Digital Blitz to Overcome Pandemic Voting Barriers

The NDP's strategy for the final days of the 2021 federal campaign was simple in concept but sprawling in execution: get Jagmeet Singh's face in front of as many voters as possible, across as many platforms as they could reach. On a Twitch livestream from a gaming studio in Vaughan, Ontario, Singh sat alone in front of a ring light, playing video games while thousands of people tuned in from across Canada and beyond. He spoke about voting. On Animal Crossing, the NDP had built a virtual island paradise in the party's signature orange. On TikTok, Singh danced to trending sounds. The message was constant: vote.

It was one approach to an unusually difficult problem. Political strategists across the country were grappling with the same reality: getting people to the polls in September 2021 would be harder than it had ever been. The pandemic had reshaped the logistics of voting itself. Schools and landlords had declined to host polling stations during the fourth wave, meaning fewer places to cast a ballot. Fewer stations meant longer lines. Longer lines meant people leaving without voting—something Brad Lavigne, a former NDP campaign adviser, witnessed firsthand at an advance poll where voters abandoned their place in line after waiting too long.

Traditional campaign tactics had become impractical overnight. Parties could no longer simply charter buses to ferry supporters to voting locations. Individual cars would have to be used instead, sanitized between each passenger. The friction between a voter and the ballot box had multiplied. Tim Powers, a conservative strategist, put it plainly: every persuasive tactic imaginable would be deployed because the pandemic could be the deciding factor in whether people voted at all.

With the Conservatives and Liberals locked in a statistical tie in the polls, the election outcome might well depend on which campaign could best overcome these obstacles. The stakes were high enough that parties were willing to experiment. The Liberals sent text messages, emails, and social media posts—reaching people wherever they were, whenever the reminder landed. The NDP went further into digital spaces, meeting young voters on platforms where they already spent their time. These were not traditional campaign channels, but traditional channels had become unreliable.

There were some encouraging signs. A record 1.2 million people had registered to vote by mail. Advance polling had drawn 5.8 million ballots, a significant number that would reduce the pressure on election day itself. Kathleen Monk, an NDP strategist, noted that this meant less work would need to happen on the final day—though she acknowledged there would still be considerable work to do.

But none of this mattered if parties could not convince supporters that their vote actually counted. In the campaign's closing days, leaders were making direct appeals to their base. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was calling progressive voters, warning them not to waste their vote. Conservative Leader Erin O'Toole was trying to channel voter frustration about the election being called into motivation to actually show up and cast a ballot. The message was the same across all campaigns: the friction is real, the obstacles are genuine, but your vote is worth the effort.

As the campaign entered its final stretch, political operatives were preparing to deploy every tool at their disposal. The question was whether digital creativity and direct appeals would be enough to overcome the practical barriers the pandemic had erected between voters and the ballot box.