The entertainment industry has spent more than a century perfecting the art of holding people’s attention. Performative politics has stolen every trick in the book.
We have the Senate (the upper house) and the House of Representatives (the lower house). Otherwise known as the balcony and the orchestra (of a movie theater). That used to be the joke when entertainers started to enter politics. But it seems all politicians have turned entertainers these days.
Yes, our politicians have learned something dangerous: Governing is hard. Performing is easy. And the public consumes performances more readily than policies.
Performative politics is the use of political actions primarily for their public image value, not for their substantive outcome. It is the press conference called before the investigation begins. It is the legislator who files 20 bills a term and attends zero committee hearings to deliberate them. It is the resolution condemning a foreign country that has no diplomatic consequence.
It is theatre. And theatre does not require truth. It requires a script, an audience, and applause. They are acting. We are laughing. Nothing changes.
Our politicians have learned these lessons from entertainment:
Lesson 1: Conflict is content. No one watches a show where everyone agrees. So politicians manufacture enemies. The Marcos camp needs the Duterte camp to be villains. The Duterte camp needs the ICC to be a conspiracy. Even within the same faction, there are “principled disagreements” staged for the cameras. Congressional hearings on both chambers become reality TV showdowns. The impeachment becomes a season finale. The “shootout” in the Senate is a cliffhanger. And we, the audience, keep watching.
Lesson 2: Emotions sell; facts do not. An angry senator pounding the table gets retweets. A calm explanation of budget allocation does not. So the performance is always angry. Always aggrieved. Always on the verge of tears or violence. The political class has learned that outrage is a commodity. They manufacture it daily, package it in 30-second clips, and sell it to news networks hungry for ratings.
Lesson 3: Simplicity beats complexity. Corruption is complicated. Discussion of confidential funds involve line items, subcommittees, and appropriation bills. But a video of a legislator screaming “corrupt” at a rival? Simple. Performative politics reduces every issue to a hero and a villain, a good guy and a bad guy. The public gets a morality play. The elites get to avoid the messy, boring work of actual reform.
Lesson 4: Recurring characters build loyalty. In entertainment, franchises survive on familiar faces. In politics, dynasties survive on familiar names. Marcos. Duterte. Aquino. Estrada. Cayetano. Villar. The public does not vote for policies. They vote for characters they have seen before. The elite knows this. They brand themselves like soap opera stars. They release “origin stories” during campaigns. They stage “redemption arcs” after scandals. And the audience stays loyal — not to the person, but to the character.
Lesson 5: Cliffhangers keep you watching. The Senate adjourns without a vote. The investigation is “ongoing.” The report is “being drafted.” Every scandal ends with a cliffhanger, so you tune in next week. Performative politics never concludes anything because conclusion is boring. Accountability would end the show. So the show never ends. The fugitive is never caught. The funds are never recovered. The impeachment never reaches a verdict. Just…next episode.
Lesson 6: Spin-offs distract from the main plot. When a scandal hits too close to home, suddenly there is a “special committee” on a different issue. A new “investigation” into an old rival. A “fact-finding mission” to a nice resort. These are spin-offs. They change the channel while the original crime is forgotten. The audience follows because shiny things are easier than hard truths.
Lesson 7: The fourth wall is invincible. In entertainment, the audience knows the actor is not the character. In performative politics, the audience also knows, but plays along. We know Senator X is corrupt. He knows we know. We know he knows we know. Yet the performance continues. The fourth wall is not broken. It is reinforced by mutual cynicism. The politician performs integrity. The public performs belief. And nothing changes because everyone is pretending.
Performative politics is so hard to break because it works. And it works because it is cheap, fast, safe, and addictive.
Going live on Facebook is cheaper than actually investigating something. A viral clip spreads in minutes while a court case takes years. Performing outrage carries no risk but actually prosecuting a powerful ally carries enormous risk. For politicians, applause is a drug. For the public, outrage is a drug. Both sides are hooked.
You cannot defeat a performance by arguing with it. You cannot fact-check a feeling. You cannot debate a meme. You have to change the channel.
First, we need to stop applauding the performance. Do not make them famous for acting. Attention is their currency. Starve them.
Second, demand the boring stuff. Ask for the audit. Request the committee report. Read the proposed bill. Support journalists who cover process, not spectacle. The boring stuff is where actual accountability lives. Performative politicians hate boring. Use that.
Third, teach media literacy in your household. Explain to children that the screaming senator is acting. Discuss why conflict sells. Raise a generation that sees through the performance. That is the long-term cure.
Let us remember that the show cannot go on without an audience. The elites perform because we watch. If we look away and turn our attention to something real, something local, something constructive, the cameras eventually stop rolling. Performative politics die from neglect, not from attack.
The Senate chaos was not a political crisis. It was a season finale. The fugitive, the gunfire, the finger-pointing — all scripted, all performed, all designed to keep us watching while the real crimes continue off-camera.
Stop watching. Start doing. The only way to cancel this show is to change the channel to accountability. And that channel does not need ratings. It just needs citizens who refuse to be an audience anymore. ###
