In a world where entertainment personalities dabble in politics, Stephen A. Smith decides to play presidential dress-up—and what a spectacle it is. As seen on recent Sunday shows, Smith continued his unofficial presidential campaign, or more accurately, his televised daydreaming. Apparently, he’s an independent, but more precisely, he identifies as a moderate caffeinated with wild contradictions. He preaches fiscal conservatism while championing social liberalism, a balanced act as steady as a house of cards. For anyone counting, that’s a recipe for perplexing politically-driven doublespeak.
Smith made it quite clear that if he tossed his hat into the political ring, he’d do so as a Democrat. Yet, he exhibits buyer’s remorse over the current state of the Democratic Party, which isn’t surprising given its trajectory in recent years. According to Smith, he would require the party to undergo a complete overhaul before he ever associates himself with them. It’s a curious little audition—a kind of political Goldilocks approach, neither too left nor too right, but just right enough for someone still eyeing political transformation between commercial breaks.
The charm of this political adventure lies in Smith’s uncanny rendition of the same old talking points straight from a 2011 handbook. Smith critiques the Democratic Party only to fall back into the same murky policies that every other armchair activist promotes. There’s suspicion that this “campaign” is not much more than a primetime whim, exposing the feasibility of wishful thinking rather than any substantial political insight. After all, treading these waving waters while decrying the need for change appears to be more about personal branding than revolutionary thought.
However, in Smith’s defense, some say a campaign held by him would be invigorating, charismatic, and maybe even revolutionary. This makes one wonder if they are mistaking Smith’s infamous sports commentary passion for political acumen.
Such musings raise an important question about the nature of political engagement today. There’s an element of theatricality here, where every performer from different arenas gets a political day in the sun. But here lies the real intrigue: Are any of these forays into the political arena meaningful without policy grit, or is this just more entertainment dressed in political theater? It’s a discourse that teeters on both sides without firm commitment—ironic when commitment is precisely what the political world needs.