The Authenticity Trap: How Political Expectations Disadvantage Candidates of Color
A rising debate over what constitutes “authenticity” in politics reveals a double standard that disproportionately harms candidates of color, demanding a performance of self that often proves unattainable.
Two years ago, comedian Tina Fey articulated a sentiment resonating with increasing urgency: “Authenticity is dangerous and expensive.” This observation, shared on the popular podcast “Las Culturistas,” has proven remarkably prescient, particularly as it relates to the evolving expectations placed upon political candidates – and the uneven playing field those expectations create. As a forthcoming book explores, authenticity, as currently understood and enforced, isn’t a liberating ideal, especially for people of color, but rather a sorting mechanism that favors those already aligned with power while penalizing those who challenge it.
“Las Culturistas,” hosted by Bowen Yang and Matt Rogers, thrives on its candid and relatable conversations. However, the podcast recently ignited controversy after Rogers cautioned listeners against financially supporting Jasmine Crockett, the Democratic congresswoman from Texas currently running for Senate against incumbent Republican John Cornyn. Rogers suggested Crockett was “too well-defined” in voters’ minds, contrasting her with her primary opponent, Texas State Rep. James Talarico, a white man, whom he deemed a more appealing choice due to his perceived ambiguity. Yang reportedly agreed with this assessment.
The ensuing backlash was swift, with many on social media accusing Rogers and Yang of racism and sexism for seemingly dismissing a viable Black female candidate. Rogers issued an apology, stating he intended no disrespect. The response to the apology has been mixed, with some arguing that accusations of bias stifle legitimate criticism. However, this debate underscores a crucial point: Crockett’s perceived “problem” isn’t a lack of conviction, but rather an abundance of it. She is facing criticism for being too authentic – for daring to be fully herself in a political landscape that often rewards carefully constructed personas.
The irony is stark. Fey’s warning is unfolding in real-time, but the burden of authenticity doesn’t fall on Rogers. It falls squarely on Crockett. For candidates of color, authenticity is not simply a virtue; it’s a tightly policed requirement, a trap that demands a performance of self that is both expected and ultimately, often disqualifying.
In U.S. politics, authenticity is treated as a prerequisite, yet remains frustratingly undefined. This lack of clarity allows unconscious biases to permeate our judgments of candidates. For candidates of color, this manifests as a demand to be “authentic” in ways that are non-threatening, easily digestible, and familiar to the existing power structure. As one observer noted, we tell candidates to “be yourself,” but subtly add, “not that self.”
Rogers’ critique exemplifies this dynamic. He posited that Crockett’s clear articulation of her beliefs makes her unelectable, while Talarico’s ambiguity is an asset. However, this path to electability isn’t equally accessible. Black women, historically, haven’t been afforded the luxury of entering Senate races without extensive records and established reputations. The scrutiny faced by Vice President Kamala Harris during the 2024 presidential race offers a parallel example: ambiguity was labeled evasive, caution was seen as calculating, and directness was deemed unfit for office.
This creates a debilitating double bind. When Black women are unapologetically themselves, they are often labeled as radical or overly assertive. When they attempt to navigate the system with caution, they are accused of being guarded or untrustworthy. Either way, authenticity becomes the justification for exclusion. If a Black woman can be deemed unelectable for being both “too authentic” and “not authentic enough,” it’s clear that political authenticity isn’t measuring genuine character, but reinforcing existing power structures that prioritize white male candidates. In contrast, Rogers praised Senator Bernie Sanders as “the only politician who says exactly what he feels,” highlighting the disparity in expectations.
This reality is obscured when authenticity is presented as a universally accessible ideal. It isn’t. Authenticity carries a cost, and that cost is not distributed equitably. As explored in the forthcoming book, “The Real Ones: Disrupting the Hidden Ways Racism Makes Us Less Authentic,” this dynamic extends beyond politics, permeating workplaces, media, and culture. Politics simply makes the stakes more explicit, as assessments of authenticity directly impact legitimacy and narrow the field of potential leaders in ways that appear organic but are, in fact, carefully engineered.
The lesson from this moment is clear: we must be more honest about what we truly seek when we demand authenticity – and acknowledge the impact of that demand. But we must not interpret this as a call for candidates like Crockett to diminish themselves. There is a profound freedom in recognizing that attempting to meet an impossible standard is a futile exercise. Authenticity may not be free, but our voices are.
