Politics & Casting: Beyond Pizza & Champagne

From “Pizza with Champagne” to the Algorithm: How Politics Became a Casting Call

Democracy is facing a troubling transformation, increasingly resembling a televised spectacle where popularity eclipses competence and character trumps policy. The rise of figures from entertainment, sports, and social media into positions of political power isn’t a mere anomaly—it’s a calculated strategy, a deliberate shift from governance to performance. What was once described as “pizza with champagne,” a blend of accessibility and ostentation, has metastasized across digital platforms, fueled by streams, screens, and trending topics.

The core issue isn’t simply the involvement of well-known individuals in politics, but rather the method by which their fame becomes a shortcut, bypassing crucial conversations about qualifications, experience, and the capacity to govern effectively. As one analyst noted, the question is no longer “what do you propose?” but “how big is it?”—measuring public recognition, reach, and engagement above all else.

The Symptom of 2025: A Peak in Celebrity Politics

This trend reached a critical point in 2025, with electoral lists showcasing a direct influx of media personalities. These “surprise” candidates, as they were often labeled, brought public penetration built in other arenas—television, social networks, humor, and sports—rather than a track record of political management. The common refrain used to justify these choices was a familiar one: “people are fed up with politicians,” “we need fresh air,” or “at least it’s someone they know.”

Politics is increasingly offered as “antipolitics,” a repackaged outsider promise with a prime-time makeover. This is often framed as a democratizing gesture—”anyone can”—or a strategic ploy to “call votes,” but it consistently operates as a substitution: charisma for structure, fame for expertise, and a compelling story for a concrete plan.

Echoes of Menemism: The Origins of Spectacle in Politics

To understand this current phenomenon, it’s crucial to look back to the 1990s and the era of Menemism. While the link between politics and spectacle wasn’t invented then, it was elevated to a defining aesthetic of the regime. “Pizza with champagne” became a cultural symbol, representing a mix of the accessible and the ostentatious, the popular and the imported. It wasn’t merely a menu choice; it was a synthesis of a particular political approach.

During Menemism, entertainment wasn’t simply orbiting power—it was integral to its scenery. Legitimacy was built through photos, invitations, appearances, and access. This created an exchange of prestige: celebrities lent their shine, while power offered proximity, rumor, and centrality. This alliance seduced the public while simultaneously anesthetizing debate, allowing discussion to focus on superficialities like hairstyles and parties while the real costs and consequences of reforms remained obscured. Academic literature on media charisma and populism from that era confirms that leadership was strengthened in the mediated public space, where image and presence superseded substance.

The Device in Action: From Conflict to Entertainment

Today, the landscape has evolved. It’s no longer just the “shiny cover” that matters, but also the viral clip, the trending phrase, and the carefully curated “moment” designed for circulation. However, the core operation remains the same: to legitimize power through spectacle and to substitute spectacle for genuine democratic control.

This operates on several layers:

• Replace program with character: The focus shifts from what a candidate will do to who they are.
• Change management for staging: Performance, spectacle, and dramatic effect take precedence.
• Reward visibility over suitability: Fame becomes a default political asset.
• Turn democracy into casting: The party system prioritizes “signing” recognizable figures over cultivating political talent.

As theorist Guy Debord predicted long before the age of TikTok, in a “society of the spectacle,” experience is replaced by representation, and the visible dominates reality. When politics behaves like a cultural industry, the candidate becomes a product and the citizen a consumer. But democracy isn’t a supermarket shelf; it’s a delegation of power, and choosing based on packaging rather than policy undermines responsibility.

The Losses: Values, Capacity, and Control

The consequences of this “showbizization” are significant. The first loss is the very idea of public service. In a culture obsessed with personality, the focus shifts from function to figure. An official should administer, decide, and be accountable, requiring method, attention to detail, and a commitment to policy—qualities less glamorous than fame.

This shift degrades key values:

• Suitability: Know-how is replaced by the ability to appear competent.
• Program: A concrete plan is supplanted by a compelling script.
• Institution: The position is overshadowed by the personal brand.
• Public ethics: Boundaries are blurred in the pursuit of communication “wins.”

Furthermore, accountability is eroded. The show has its own form of justice—applause or booing—which is volatile and easily manipulated. Democratic evaluation, however, demands indicators, budgets, execution reports, and parliamentary oversight. Finally, the debate itself is impoverished, filled with quick controversies, panel fights, and manufactured outrage.

Celebrity as a Shield: The Illusion of Closeness

Celebrity provides an emotional shortcut, creating a sense of intimacy: “I know him,” “I saw him,” “he made me laugh.” While this familiarity can be valuable, it can also serve as a shield for those in power, making the government appear “friendly,” “human,” and “close” even when policies are opaque or failing. The trap lies in confusing visibility with representativeness, followers with a genuine project, and fame with competence. This misunderstanding is exploited because it’s profitable: building adhesion through presence is easier than building trust through results.

The Uncomfortable Truth: A Degradation of Democracy

While there are instances where public figures take politics seriously—Amalia Granata’s transition from media personality to legislator in Santa Fe being one example—the issue isn’t the individual, but the method. The origin of a candidate doesn’t negate the need for minimum qualifications. When a candidacy is decided by screen presence rather than capacity, it’s a gamble with public administration.

Ultimately, showbizization isn’t a democratic curiosity; it’s a form of degradation. It’s not that popular culture is inherently adversarial, but that those in power exploit it to cheapen politics. Where there should be a conflict of ideas, they install a panel fight. Where there should be control, they offer empathy. Where there should be administration, there is simply action.

In the 1990s, this spectacle was a televised party, a “pizza with champagne” postcard. Today, that brightness has been democratized across infinite screens, but the logic is even more ruthless: governing well is no longer necessary if you can narrate better; explaining a budget is irrelevant if you can win a trending topic; building institutions is unnecessary if you can sustain characters. When democracy becomes casting, the State ceases to be a tool for transformation and becomes a mere prop. What is chosen is no longer a direction, but a distribution. And a country isn’t managed with borrowed charisma or saved with cameos—it’s governed with ideas, teams, rules, and an ethic that the show, by definition, doesn’t require. If politics kneels before fame to survive, it isn’t renewing itself; it’s confessing its emptying.