Where would you place these artists on the political compass, or should we be expecting their public engagement, asks Uta Tsukada-Bright?

In an age where celebrities influence almost every aspect of culture, the question of whether artists should engage in political discourse remains as polarising as the issues themselves. During the recent U.S. election, this was particularly visible, with rapper Megan Thee Stallion performing at Kamala Harris’ first campaign rally and Charli XCX embracing Kamala ‘Brat’ memes, even going so far as to tweet “kamala IS brat” on X. For many young people, social media has become their primary source of news, often overtaking traditional outlets, highlighting the immense power musicians wield in shaping the political opinions of their fans.

But engaging in political discourse can at times backfire for artists. In September of this year, Chappell Roan sparked controversy after an article in the Guardian quoted her as saying that there are “problems on both sides” of the U.S. presidential election, and she therefore does not “feel pressured to endorse someone”. Her comments were misinterpreted, with many accusing her of equating the two parties. Interestingly, Roan is a case of an artist who finds herself abruptly thrust into the spotlight, while openly expressing discomfort with fame. In the same Guardian profile, she states, “I’m very turned off by the celebrity of it all”; perhaps, she is still coming to understand the extent of the influence she wields. The situation underscores a broader dilemma for public figures: the fear of backlash and alienation causing many to remain silent on political issues, to avoid divisiveness among fans.

Playing it safe, however, brings its own set of challenges, notably criticism of not saying anything at all – or not doing enough, fuelling accusations of indifference. Taylor Swift is a prime example; her initial venture into politics was in 2018, when she endorsed Democratic candidates. Since then, she has embraced feminist themes in her songwriting, with her song ‘The Man’ critiquing gender double standards for being labelled a “bitch” instead of a “baller” and judged unfairly as a successful woman. Despite this seemingly fair expression of frustration, such lyrics hint at a desire to participate in the same patriarchal hustle culture that she challenges. Critics have noted that she has yet to meaningfully adopt a more intersectional approach over the course of her growth in activism, and have pegged her as a ‘white feminist’, a flavour of feminism that neglects to prioritise the experiences of women of colour in favour of the struggles faced by privileged white women in the global West.

In a similar vein, Swift was slammed along with other celebrities for her silence on the ongoing Palestinian crisis during the Super Bowl in February, an event that provides a chance for artists to promote a project or cause of their choice. Fans expressed disappointment that public figures with immense wealth and influence, who are uniquely positioned to lead efforts either through advocacy, collaboration or fundraising failed to do so. According to VICE, nine of the twenty celebrities present at the event remained silent about the violence in Rafah. The scale of this inaction raises a broader question: should we, as consumers of media and fans of artists, even look to pop stars for guidance on critical global issues? The recent escalation of the Palestinian crisis has prompted many to reconsider their idolisation of public figures, challenging the expectation that celebrities be arbiters of moral or political leadership.

Additionally, while it is true that role models are important in guiding young people towards making informed decisions, especially during elections, what happens when they set a bad example? Problematic figures such as Andrew Tate complicate the narrative about influence and responsibility by delivering harmful ideologies to the young male population, amplified by unregulated internet access. If we argue that all public figures should utilise the power of their influence, creators such as Andrew Tate meet this definition. Similarly, actress Gal Gadot’s public support for Israel following the Hamas attack on Israel in October 2023 raises the question of whether influence alone is inherently politically productive, alienating her against fans who see her actions as perpetuating harm rather than inspiring positive change. The general assumption that artists, as creatives, are inherently open-minded and therefore liberal by default, is proven to not always be the case. Many fans expect the pop stars they idolise to align with their own political stances, and often feel betrayed when they don’t. James Harris articulates this phenomenon in his article ‘Artists have nothing to gain from politics’, noting that “the demand for artists to take specific stances is a demand from a subsection of their fans for the creator to show that they are just like them, rather than retain the mystery of distance”. Such a paradoxical expectation for celebrities to take responsibility in being politically vocal but only in ways that agree with a particular viewpoint is often only for self-serving reasons. The general consensus appears to be – yes, speak up about political and social issues, but only if they mirror my own beliefs without room for nuance or discussion.

With the constant number of celebrities facing cancellation, it’s hardly surprising anymore when an artist whose music I enjoy becomes involved in controversy. Does this mean I like them ‘as a person’? No – but perhaps I can still enjoy a song of theirs from time to time. The reality is, no consumer can truly ‘like’ an artist as a person because we simply don’t actually know them. Their musical persona that they present alongside their art is just that – a persona. Particularly when it comes to pop stars, their image is one that is heavily curated, cultivated by marketing teams who ensure every Instagram post or TikTok video aligns with their particular branding rather than reflect an authentic individual. 

Fans often conflate the marketed persona of an artist with the true individual, leading to unrealistic expectations. As consumers, we must remove the entitlement felt towards celebrities that they should serve as moral leaders. With that being said, can you still enjoy an artist’s work if you disagree with their political actions? The answer lies in personal responsibility. You can, provided you take the time to form your own informed views rather than turning to celebrities as moral compasses for confirmation of what you ‘should’ believe. Instead, be strong in your own convictions, and build your understanding of current issues independently. If artists have a responsibility to be political, then, we as fans also have a responsibility to be informed on our own.

Of course, there are limits to adopting such an approach – attending the concert of a convicted abuser, for instance, raises serious ethical questions as a consumer. However, such choices ultimately come down to the fan’s own values and making reasonable decisions. The internet has time and time again shown its aversion to allowing for nuance, mostly pertaining to strictly black-and-white moral thinking. Such a climate within pop culture calls for resistance to taking a certain stance towards a pop star simply because your social media algorithm is telling you so.

Celebrities cannot and should not replace genuine political leadership. With the ability to balance your admiration with realistic expectations about human flaws and personal biases, comes a much stronger foundation for your own political views, than being swayed by celebrity and pop culture.

Words by Uta Tsukada-Bright