Over the past few years, I’ve developed a persistent fascination with politics. Every day, I immerse myself in all the news coverage and commentary I can get my hands on. When I pick up my phone, I watch video essays speculating on who will run for president in 2028, or CNN’s analysis of the latest polling aggregates. I’d like to think that all this makes me a well-informed and responsible citizen. 

But realistically, most of this self-inflicted barrage of information has virtually no bearing on how I live my life. Do I really need to be aware of the exact odds of

a Senate race three thousand miles away? And if not, why do I keep coming back

for more?

In truth, all the polling data and punditry I indulge myself in isn’t information. It’s entertainment. When my friend and I compare our predictions on whether Texas will “turn blue” this year, we’re not engaging with the political process so much as we are enjoying a performance or a spectator sport. 

As a musician, actor and human being, I must admit I love a good show. But as a citizen, I worry that not only myself, but my fellow Americans are becoming so steeped in the spectacle and speculation around our elections that we are losing sight of what they’re actually about.

Every new poll sparks a wave of analysis: what does this mean for the candidate’s chances, or for the future of the party?

Does this reflect a larger shift in the electorate? Could the poll be wrong, and if so, how wrong? 

It’s not just the polling data, either — the scandals and controversies that plague every campaign can feel more like the latest gossip on a soap opera rather than serious news. (Can you believe what Amy Acton’s mom said about her?) 

And with the simultaneous rise of online sports betting and prediction markets, the spectator sport metaphor seems particularly apt. Guessing which side will win, and by how many points, is half the fun. We even have commentators telling us which “star players” to watch on the big night.

The media coverage is only half the picture. Instead of delivering coherent policy solutions to improve their constituents’ lives, elected officials feed on the fear and frustration of an exhausted electorate to keep winning votes.

Candidates campaign on whatever makes them look good and their opponents look bad. Actually addressing the challenges everyday Americans face is secondary. In fact, many shrewd politicians manipulate the “media circus” to distract us from their mistakes and misdeeds.

This problem certainly isn’t new. Long before candidates campaigned as much on TikTok as on broadcast TV, observers in decades past have groaned about tabloid newspapers and 24-hour cable news channels turning news into entertainment. 

Perhaps the drama of politics is an inevitable product of democracy itself, where capturing the attention of the masses by any means possible is the pipeline to power. But it’s something that has only gotten worse in recent years, especially after a certain former reality TV host burst onto the political scene over 11 years ago and who hasn’t stopped demanding our attention since.

In fact, it’s exactly this toxic environment that allowed someone with no prior governing experience to ascend to the nation’s highest office in the first place, and to later regain it even after being cast out in disgrace. In a political culture where making waves is more effective than making a difference, should we really be surprised that the loudest, brashest and most incompetent spotlight seekers rise to the top?

Although many have contributed to this style of politics, few have embraced it quite like President Donald Trump. Purging the government of experienced professionals and stacking the Cabinet with Fox News anchors and unqualified yes-men, building an extravagant triumphal arch and a ballroom almost as big as his ego, starting an expensive, illegal and bloody war against Iran to distract from his past crimes, and constantly bragging about it all to anyone who will listen — these are the acts of a shallow and self-centered man who truly lives by the phrase “style over substance.” 

I am reminded of Mark Twain, who coined the phrase “Gilded Age” as a critique of the corruption of late 19th-century politics. To gild an object is to apply a thin layer of gold to its exterior, hiding the true nature of the object underneath. In today’s Washington, a thin layer of glamour and glory conceals a rotten core of incompetence and waste.

These are the consequences of shallow politics. When politicians, the media and voters turn away from good governance in favor of attention-grabbing antics, our democracy simply cannot function. We need to demand better, both from our media and from our elected officials. Stay informed on the issues and policies that affect you directly.

Support quality journalism, especially publications that operate independently of big corporate owners. When heading to the polls, both this week and in the years to come, vote for candidates that understand the issues and have a clear plan to actually solve problems, not just look good long enough to get reelected.

I’ll still be staying up late on Election Night next week to enjoy the show. But once the final votes are tallied and the victory speeches are done, keep paying attention: not just to what politicians say, but what they do. That is what keeps democracy alive.