Minnesota’s TikTok Lawsuit: Power Play or Protection?

Minnesota’s lawsuit against TikTok isn’t just about protecting kids from harmful algorithms. That’s the public-facing pitch, of course—cue the concerned attorney general, the sorrowful schoolteacher, and the predictable soundbites about “deception” and “mental health.” But peel back the layers, and what you’ll find is a political playbook as old as Washington itself: power, positioning, and the quiet scramble to control the digital battlefield ahead of 2026.

Keith Ellison, Minnesota’s attorney general and a known progressive operator, has stepped into the national spotlight with this latest move, joining a growing stampede of state AGs targeting Big Tech—especially those with foreign ties. The lawsuit accuses TikTok of using addictive algorithms to hook young users, all while allegedly misrepresenting how safe the product really is. The messaging is simple: TikTok is the new tobacco, and Ellison is here to play surgeon general.

But timing is everything in politics. And Ellison’s sudden urgency—after sitting on the sidelines while 20+ other states filed similar suits—suggests he’s spotted an opening. The national mood has shifted. The Trump administration has been circling TikTok for months, pushing for a deal to force Chinese-owned ByteDance to sell off the app’s U.S. operations. The White House’s concern is national security, not teen angst. But Ellison’s move dovetails nicely, giving Democrats a chance to appear tough on China without having to openly support Trump’s strategy.

Ellison doesn’t want to shut TikTok down, he says. He just wants them to “clean up their act.” Translation: he wants regulatory power, access to discovery, and a seat at the table when the next round of tech legislation gets drafted. This is positioning, plain and simple. If ByteDance sells to an American buyer—likely under pressure from Trump—Ellison and his fellow AGs want to ensure they’re not left out when the new owners start negotiating compliance rules.

Let’s not forget the money. Minnesota is asking for up to $25,000 for each case where a child was exposed to TikTok’s “deceptive” practices. Ellison won’t say how much that adds up to, but if “hundreds of thousands” of kids in Minnesota are on the app—as he estimates—he’s effectively tossing a billion-dollar grenade into TikTok’s legal department. That’s not a lawsuit. That’s a shakedown.

Ellison is no novice. He knows these cases rarely go to trial. They end in settlements, where states walk away with chunks of change and promises of “reform” that are more about optics than outcomes. What he’s really after is leverage—both against TikTok and within the Democratic Party, where he’s angling to remain relevant as the post-Biden landscape takes shape.

Meanwhile, TikTok is playing defense, rolling out its usual PR toolkit: parental controls, safety features, and soft-focus language about “well-being.” But it’s all noise. The real fight is over who gets to control the future of digital speech and consumer data in America. Right now, Trump is moving to bring TikTok under U.S. ownership. The lawsuits from blue-state AGs give him political cover to do just that—even if they’d never admit it out loud.

And don’t miss the broader pattern. Minnesota is also going after Meta, Snapchat, and Roblox—part of a larger state-level offensive against social media platforms. The goal isn’t just to protect kids. It’s to carve out regulatory turf in a space where federal lawmakers have failed to act. In the absence of a coherent national policy on tech, ambitious state officials like Ellison are rushing in to fill the void—and stake their claim.

This isn’t about saving children. It’s about saving face, collecting fines, and accumulating influence. Ellison’s lawsuit may sound like a moral crusade, but it’s really a power move in the digital cold war. And he’s betting that by the time the dust settles, TikTok’s data—and its dollars—will be firmly within reach.