Everything’s a Joke: The Trivialisation of Politics
Kenza Bajjar, BA Politics and International Relations
Politicians have, historically, always had a bad reputation. Deceitful, corrupt, and conniving, more often than not in media, they’ve been portrayed in the role of the villain—using bureaucracy and their position of power to prevent the realisation of justice. Despite their, not unfounded notoriety, their competence, malicious as it is, was based on a common understanding of the importance of politics and a grudging respect for their profession. For better or worse, they represented their constituencies, their people, on a national and international stage. There was a gravity to what they did or, ideally, what they were meant to be doing. With the allowance of television campaigning being introduced, nations were able to see a different side to politicians. As they campaigned, they began to perform, presenting a charming front of their promises and goals, proving they were just as human as those they wanted to vote for them. With the propagation of social media across all aspects of the social world, however, this ‘humanisation’ has devolved into absurdity.
The professionalism that once permeated the political world has seemingly vanished. During the 2024 presidential campaign in the United States, it seemed that all Kamala Harris wished to stress—other than her unwavering support for continuing to fund Israel’s genocide against Palestinians—was her relatability, her ‘humour.’ ‘Kamala is brat’ rushed like a wave through media, social and popular, with her campaign team leaning into the club-culture album released by Charli XCX that summer. Even the official Instagram for the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) attempted to pitch in, posting on their Instagram—why the transnational military alliance has an Instagram account is further proof of the unseriousness of politics today—a graphic in the style of the neon-green brat album, with the caption: ‘Summer might be over, but the goal for peace remains.’ Admittedly, the post was heavily criticised for being tone-deaf, but for Kamala, it seemed that this was what her campaign had been looking for. Ideally, it was a sound campaigning strategy, tapping into a previously unswayed demographic of young voters, with the bonus that by aligning her campaign with a beloved trend, with endorsement from Charli XCX herself, in an age of decreasing media literacy, and increasing irony, it served as the perfect shield for any deeper examination into Harris and her policies.
The danger behind treating politics as a joke is perhaps best embodied in Donald Trump. His first term was, by and large, treated as an ‘off-season’ in American politics. Every speech he gave, and every policy implemented seemed to be more and more ludicrous, and that’s without mentioning his comical trademark orange hue. During his campaign for the 2024 US presidential elections, he visited a McDonald’s and ‘worked a shift,’ stoking the fire for ridicule online. The video is, admittedly, funny, as the persona that Trump has created intended it to be. Trump and his campaign team all seem to lean into this ludicrousness that has come to define their administration, allowing them to suffer the small price of online jokes while distracting from the actions they’re carrying out. Even now, as Trump decimates American relations and cuts funding to vital international organisations and climate treaties, the furthest action it seems anyone can take is to critique his tweets. Yes, his posts supporting the booing at Taylor Swift at the Super Bowl are problematic, yet his inane response to a celebrity garners such a widespread reaction because he has mastered the use of sensationalisation to divert attention from the dehumanising policies his government has implemented.
Boris Johnson is also intimately familiar with the weaponisation of a comedic persona, namely the ‘buffoon.’ A political career defined by his history of acting the fool, he became the face of Brexit despite knowing underwhelmingly nothing about the potential ramifications. His clown act allowed him to deflect any to his messy hair in official settings, his ‘clumsy’ mannerisms, and not the secession campaign his administration was pioneering, built, and followed through on a bed of disinformation and xenophobia.
Politicians, and by extension their politics, have become deeply unserious. Whether this is a result of these representatives willingly assuming a comedic tone or persona, or the inability of audiences to detach themselves from the ever-evolving algorithm and its insistence on the ironic, it is unmistakably dangerous. Politics is a serious business. Politicians are meant to be serious representatives. Not everything is a joke, not everything should be laughed at. When lives are at stake, it is critical that people do not fall into the trap of laughing and swiping away. We cannot let the representatives that we elect become another six-second clip to mindlessly absorb before moving on. We cannot allow politics to become ridiculous in a world careening wildly towards fascism. Not everything is a joke, least of all politics.