In the 2020s, something quietly but profoundly shifted in global politics. Across countries rich and poor, from the East to the West, leadership has become less about serving the nation—and more about serving the self. Campaigns now often feel like celebrity launches. Political power is no longer just about policies, but about personal brands. And increasingly, these brands belong almost exclusively to men.

Today, many of the most visible political figures have become household names not because of their track record in governance, but because of the image they’ve carefully cultivated. Their speeches are sharp, their social media presence is strong, and their charisma fills stadiums. But often, once elected, the promise of service fades behind the machinery of self-promotion. National interest becomes an afterthought—overshadowed by the endless maintenance of “the brand.”

What’s striking is that this phenomenon is overwhelmingly male-dominated. Most of the globally recognized political “brands” today are men. They market strength, dominance, and often, a kind of hyper-individualism. They project the image of saviors, of lone heroes meant to fix everything—alone.

Meanwhile, where are the branded female political figures?

Yes, there are women in politics doing critical work, leading nations, navigating crises. But rarely do we see them elevated to the same iconic, cult-like status. In part, that’s because the machinery of branding was never built for them. Female politicians are often held to higher standards, scrutinized more harshly, and expected to lead with humility rather than grandeur. They aren’t given the same room to craft a persona larger than life—nor are they usually allowed to fail as loudly.

And so, the age of political individualism becomes not just a matter of ego or media—it becomes a gendered story, too.

This imbalance matters. Because when politics revolves around personalities—especially narrowly defined male personas—it sidelines the collective. It silences the diverse voices and approaches we so desperately need. It reduces national leadership to a performance, instead of a partnership between the people and their representatives.

This isn’t a call to erase personality from politics. Leadership will always carry a personal dimension. But it’s time we step back and ask: who are we elevating? Why are we so drawn to the lone-wolf male figure over the collaborative, often less visible efforts of others? What would it look like if we valued service over spectacle, substance over soundbites?

Most importantly, how can we re-center national interest in a time where branding threatens to overpower purpose?

Politics was never meant to be a one-man show. A nation isn’t an audience. Leadership is not about image—it’s about impact. And in this critical decade, we need more than personal stories. We need shared vision, long-term thinking, and the kind of leadership that sees beyond itself.

Let’s shift the spotlight—away from the brand, and back to the people