Glitter isn’t exactly a substitute for hope in a better future, but the two resemble one another, and maybe that’s all that matters sometimes.

Think for a moment of the media, the celebrities, of the past decade. The dominant feeling of the time was earnestness. Relatability. People (including, especially) me flocked to Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour because she is the greatest lyricist of the time, a poet who draws from her own diaries and makes you feel like you could be her closest friend. The tour was an experience of community building.

I also had the fortune to see Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter tour recently. I’ve been trying to piece together why the two tours felt so different, and I think it’s because at Eras I spent half the time talking to people around me, reflecting on what the songs have meant in my life. At Cowboy Carter, I and the other 80,000 people were transfixed by the greatest living performer at her best. It’s not that subtle a difference. What we look for in celebrity has changed. It’s no longer ways to reflect on ourselves, but to take shows as a way of escaping the world. Recession pop is back.

This hasn’t escaped politics, either. Beyond Australia, the famously laid-back island with tall poppy syndrome almost worse than the UV rating, politicians have become celebrities in the same way.

Perhaps this is what US President Donald Trump understood before and better than anyone else: that Americans weren’t looking for a relatable politician who could be imagined as a regular at the local bar. No, Trump went in the other direction, knowing people wanted a feeling, looking to fill him up with all their own grief and anger and fear.

For a brief moment last year, Kamala Harris was brat and got to have a similar moment in the sun – someone unknowable, unattainable; the fantasy of it all is the point.

Recession pop is intimately aware of the collapse around it, too. Gaga in 2010 didn’t wear a meat dress to the MTV Video Music Awards because she was hungry – she did it to make a statement. The hyperreal party music of the recession knew how people just wanted to escape their everyday life and live in another world for a while.

These cycles aren’t new. In the 1980s, at the peak of the AIDS crisis, the common refrain was that gay men would watch friends die in the morning, attend their funerals in the afternoon, and dance all night. In the 1960s, in a world flinging itself to pieces at the height of the Cold War and the civil rights protests, disaffected young people became hippies, trying to find emotional escape in the stories and lies that added up to something like the truth.

For people who are most under pressure in a society, when crisis comes, this oversaturated media and celebrity landscape is a symptom of wanting to dive into something entirely new.

This time, it feels like it has something of a political punch in the heightened political tension of 2025. There’s a sense of reclamation, especially by women and queer people, that has a tinge of anger to it.

For this, we have Taylor Swift (and Kelly Clarkson) to thank for igniting the possibility of artists breaking the studio system to own their own work. Kesha is reclaiming herself after years of litigation, and with her country music shift, Beyonce is reclaiming entire genres.

This new version of culture, and the celebrities who are emerging and re-emerging, has a sense of well-placed rage that something has been stolen, and also a sense of joy in the act of taking back what belongs.

You might think it’s frivolous to read this much into some pop stars coming back and re-emerging, but these stars are some of the most famous people on the planet, especially among women and queer people, and they are fighting for a place at the table decades after seats should have been pulled up.

The anger of the far right at a changing world is matched by people who are doing the changing, and it’s beautiful to see.

Cory Alpert is a PhD researcher at the University of Melbourne looking at the impact of AI on democracy. He previously served the Biden-Harris administration for three years.