Abstract
In this dialogue, Julia Sonnevend argues that charm is a defining feature of contemporary politics and introduces five techniques of charm that shape political leadership. By examining the patterns of political performance, she emphasizes the regional variations in charm and explores how the typology of charm shifts throughout a politician’s career. Sonnevend further elaborates on her methodological approach, detailing the process through which these categories were developed and refined. Applying her charm theory to the case of Donald Trump, she analyzes how Trump’s political persona blends elements of charisma and charm across different contexts. In addition, Sonnevend offers insights into further research directions in political communication and provides advice on navigating an academic career.
Julia Sonnevend is an Associate Professor of Sociology and Communication at The New School in New York. Her recent book Charm: How Magnetic Personalities Shape Global Politics was published by Princeton University Press in 2024.
In your recent book (Sonnevend, 2024), you outlined different types of charm, ranging from liberal charm to authenticity without charm. Can you introduce how you came up with this idea?
I wanted to understand the power of personal magne-tism in contemporary politics. When analyzing charisma, we still often go back to German sociologist Max Weber – but his theory of charismatic leadership is more than a hundred years old. I decided to create a contemporary theory of personal magnetism in politics – and differentiated charisma from charm. I argue that contemporary politicians often perform the role of a regular person – someone we would like to have a beer with. They win elections not because of the elevated rhetorical performances we often associate with charisma (think iconic speeches at major political rallies) but because of something more ordinary and relatable, a certain magic spell I call ‘charm’ that is based on proximity to audiences. The politician wants to communicate that he is just like you. The media found the concept of ‘charm’ useful in describing and analyzing the viral videos and public personas of various candidates, providing a lens through which to interpret contemporary political dyna-mics. The broader context is the increasing personalization of politics, a phenomenon that has been particularly evident in the United States. Over the past thirty years, we have observed a shift in public focus – from institutions, values, and even factual discourse – to an increasing emphasis on individual personalities. If this trend continues, it becomes essential to better understand how political personalities are constructed, particularly with-in the digital landscape. Social media plays a crucial role in shaping charismatic leadership, influencing how political figures are perceived and how they engage with their audiences.
What are the fundamental criteria for classifying the five techniques of charming interactions? Do you have a specific standard for constructing these categories?
Regarding the construction of categories, I approach this as a cultural sociologist, which allows for a certain degree of flexibility in defining typologies. My methodology is largely observational. While I could label it grounded theory, I am somewhat sceptical of that terminology. Grounded theory often serves as a way to describe what is essentially an interpretative process – I obse-rve patterns, identify recurring elements, and assign conceptual names to them.
In developing these categories, my team and I – along with research assistants – followed a systematic process. We utilized a codebook, refining the categories through multiple rounds of data analysis. We examined the data repeatedly, identifying patterns in performances, which eventually led to the classification of different techniques of charm. In the Orbán case, for instance, we consistently observed around five recurring categories. The process involved analysing key terminologies and performance styles, ensuring that classifications were grounded in empirical data.
For the book, I aimed to establish categories that emerged consistently across different case studies. These were the ones that ultimately made it into the final work. However, in the journal articles – such as those published in the International Journal of Press/Politics and New Media & Society – a greater number of categories were included. Each case study exhibited some variation, and not all classifications could be incorporated into the book. Some simplification was necessary, given that the book was designed as a crossover work – published by a leading academic press, yet accessible to a slightly broader audience. While it is not a trade book intended for the general public, it is meant for an educated general audience beyond the confines of specialist academic discourse:
I find it very interesting that you distinguish between categories like Restaging and De-masking. However, politicians go through different stages in their political careers, and they may adopt different strategies to shape their public image over time. If time is considered, do individual leaders shift between different types of charm throughout their careers?
The idea of a temporal shift is indeed a fascinating one. As I mentioned regarding the Trump campaign, we did not see charming performances from Trump for a significant portion of the campaign. I would be very interested to learn from his team why they made the deliberate decision to introduce these elements only at the very end, particularly through those two scenes (candidate Trump serving burgers in a McDonald’s and his visiting of a barber’s shop in the Bronx, in both cases communicating proximity to working class Americans). I remember this vividly because, throughout the campaign, I debated with my PhD students: ‘No, there are no charming moments’. ‘Yes, there are’. And I was quite pleased when, in the final stage, these moments finally emerged.
In other cases, too, we can observe similar patterns in campaigns. Take the Merkel case study, for example – there is some degree of charm at the beginning, but it is eventually abandoned. This suggests that analysing charm through a temporal lens is indeed possible.
With Orbán, however, the performance remains consistent. What is particularly interesting in his case is that it is clear the charm element does not originate from him personally. Orbán is not naturally skilled with technology – this is not his domain. Instead, his communication strategy is professionally managed by a dedicated team. He is known to be old-school and conservative in this regard, openly stating that he does not engage with social media directly. His digital presence is a carefully crafted professional production rather than a personal interaction.
My next question concerns the regional and historical variations in charm. In your book, you outline different types of charm. Do these patterns of charm vary across different regions? Additionally, how do historical context and international influence shape these different forms of charm?
That is a crucial question, and it is one of the key reasons why I structured my book the way I did. After presenting the theoretical framework, I focused on case studies, offering in-depth analyses rather than simply listing examples without historical context. I felt that applying the categories without considering their historical and cultural emergence would make the argument overly simplistic. Charm is deeply shaped by cultural and historical factors, and my hope is that readers will apply this framework to local contexts, much like we do with Max Weber’s theory of charisma. Just as Weber’s concept has been tested across different societies, I hope this theory will be examined in various regions to assess its applicability. I also plan to collaborate with political communication scholars and psychologists to conduct experimental studies on how charm functions in different political and cultural settings.
To illustrate the significance of historical and regional context, let me give you an example. I spent considerable time trying to understand why Angela Merkel was able to resist the Instagram-driven political culture of spectacle, drama and polarization, despite operating in the same Western media environment that thrives on these dynamics. One key factor is that Merkel was the Chancellor of Germany, a country with an extremely negative historical experience with charisma due to Hitler. Public opinion research has consistently shown that, traditionally, German voters have been highly sceptical of charismatic leadership, though this attitude is shifting somewhat with the rise of the right-wing.
A well-known example of this scepticism occurred when Barack Obama, then a presidential candidate, wanted to deliver a speech at the Brandenburg Gate, an iconic historical site in Germany. Merkel refused, stating that in Germany, they do not allow such grand, charismatic performances, particularly from someone who is not yet an elected head of state. Only after Obama became president was he permitted to speak there. Over time, Merkel and Obama developed a strong personal and professional relationship, as seen in later photographs of their warm interactions. However, Merkel herself admitted in an interview that she had always been deeply distrustful and sceptical of charisma in politics.
This example highlights how historical memory and national experiences shape political styles. In Germany, where charisma is associated with a history of authoritarianism and genocide, it is easier for a leader like Merkel to reject the conventions of highly performative political charm. This raises an important question: To what extent is this resistance to charm applicable to other countries?
Ultimately, I believe that anyone applying this theory must do so with careful attention to historical and cultural context. There may be regions, cultures or even specific cities where these patterns simply do not hold. Understanding these variations is essential for refining the framework and assessing its global relevance.
How do you choose your case studies, and what criteria do you use to ensure that these cases genuinely contribute to or help illustrate and establish your charm theories?
Initially, I considered writing a book about charm across various domains of social life, including business, law, and technology. My original idea was to include chapters on the power of charm in legal negotiations (charming lawyers!), business strategies, artificial intelligence, and even robots. However, I quickly realized that such a project would be impossible to execute comprehensively – precisely for the reason you raised. Even as scholars, we sometimes reach a point where we recognize the limitations of scope in our research.
To give you another example, when I was a PhD student, I initially wanted to write my dissertation on images that we do not remember. However, methodological experts pointed out a fundamental issue: how could I write a dissertation on images that, by definition, are not remembered? This realization led me to refine my focus. Similarly, I concluded that my book could not cover charm in every aspect of social life. Instead, I decided to publish individual peer-reviewed journal articles, each exploring different aspects of the topic. As I continued this work, I noticed a clear pattern: all of my studies focused on politics. Recognizing this helped me narrow the scope of my book, allowing me to complete it more efficiently.
This brings me to the next important question – how I selected my case studies. From the outset, I was certain that I did not want to focus on the United States, as there is already an extensive body of literature on figures like Donald Trump and Barack Obama. Instead, I aimed to write an international book, which was a risky decision given that US audiences often prefer works centred on American politics. To address this, I included references to the United States throughout the book, ensuring that American readers could still find relevant connections. However, I did not conduct a US-specific case study.
I also wanted to highlight that charm-based politics is not exclusive to any ideological position – it is not solely a leftist, liberal or centrist phenomenon but rather a cross-cutting political strategy. One of the most debated inclusions in my book was Viktor Orbán. Some raised ethical concerns about analysing an illiberal leader, questioning whether it was appropriate to include him. However, I saw this as a necessary task: understanding how his power operates is crucial for a comprehensive study of political charm.
In addition, I sought gender diversity in my case studies, including both male and female political leaders. However, I fully acknowledge that further case studies – particularly from non-Western contexts – are still needed. For instance, not having a case study from China is a limitation, but conducting such research – especially during the COVID-19 pandemic – would have been extremely challenging. Moreover, language barriers played a role. While I speak German and Hungarian, which allowed me to engage directly with certain case studies, I lacked the necessary language skills to conduct research in Chinese.
To address these limitations, I collaborated with PhD students and local researchers. For the Iranian case study, I received assistance from researchers familiar with the region. Even in cases where I had language proficiency – such as the German case study – I worked with a German PhD student to ensure depth and accuracy. For the Hungarian case study, I consulted local experts to gain contextual insights, as I no longer live in Hungary.
For future studies, expanding this research into other national contexts is essential. In cases where language barriers exist, conducting interviews and collaborating with research assistants can help mitigate these challenges. However, further empirical testing is still necessary to assess how charm-based political strategies function across different political and cultural landscapes.
Could you share your observations on how politicians adapt their charm across different platforms, such as Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and their official websites? What factors influence these variations in their social media presence?
Such excellent questions. First, regarding Kamala Harris, she has made a deliberate effort to create the impression that her social media presence is authentic and personal, avoiding any obvious indication that a team is managing her accounts. The way her posts are framed suggests that she is the one directly sharing updates – ‘I’m here doing this’, for example. Of course, at this level of politics, that is never truly the case; these communications are carefully curated by a team. However, the first-person presentation helps reinforce a sense of relatability and direct engagement with the public.
In contrast, Angela Merkel took a very different approach. Her social media presence was always framed in a formal, institutional manner – ‘Chancellor Merkel in this meeting’, ‘Chancellor Merkel attending this event’ – clearly signalling that her social media was managed by a team rather than presenting a personal, first-person narrative. This distinction is an important component of how politicians strategically shape their public personas online.
Now, regarding platform differences, I approached this in my case studies by examining the dominant social media within each country. However, your question raises another interesting angle – analysing how a single politician adapts their image across multiple platforms. That could be a valuable follow-up study.
For example, in the case of Viktor Orbán, Twitter (now X) was not widely used in Hungary at the time of my research. It was primarily a platform for international audiences. Consequently, when Orbán used Twitter/X, his messaging was tailored for a global audience, whereas his Facebook presence targeted both Hungarian and international audiences. This suggests that politicians adjust their messaging and charm strategies depending on the audience of each platform.
I don’t have a case study from China, but given the distinct platform ecosystem, it would be fascinating to explore how politicians navigate different digital spaces. More broadly, studying how political messaging ‘travels’ across platforms – how the same political figure adapts their persona on different social media sites – would be an insightful area for future research. Perhaps we could collaborate on a follow-up study to explore this further.
In your framework of charm, how would you classify President Donald Trump? Given his unique political persona, which of the four types of charm you described in your talk does he embody?
That’s an excellent question. I think Donald Trump demonstrates how one can embody both charisma and charm simultaneously. If we look at his rallies, for example, he often delivers highly charismatic performances. A striking example is the assassination attempt, which resulted in an iconic photograph. In that moment of chaos and confusion, he instinctively recognized the power of imagery – he stopped, raised his fists, and created a visually powerful moment. That was a classic display of charisma, where a leader understands the audience’s need for a symbolic image. Many people perceived that moment as a display of composure and control.
At the same time, there are other instances where Trump leans more into charm rather than charisma. His visits to McDonald’s, interactions at a barbershop, his signature baseball hat, his time golfing or simply being with his family all contribute to a more relatable and familiar public persona. These moments make him appear accessible and down-to-earth, aligning with the elements of charm I describe in my book.
However, some aspects of charm seem less prominent in his case. For instance, I struggle to find a strong example of de-masking, where he truly drops the performative aspect of his persona. Perhaps someone in the audience can think of an instance, but unlike Joe Biden’s speech in Warsaw – which felt like a moment of genuine emotional expression – I can’t immediately recall a similar de-masking moment for Trump.
That said, he certainly engages in restaging, frequently removing politics from traditional settings and even attacking those settings as boring or irrelevant. He often seeks to redefine where and how politics should be performed. In addition, performing authenticity is a central part of his appeal – he consistently presents himself as someone who speaks his mind, regardless of political convention. Ultimately, Trump’s public persona is a mix of both charisma and charm, with different elements emphasized in different contexts.
When analyzing Trump’s influence on political success, do you control for structural factors such as political institutions, financial resources, or party strength? Ultimately, how does the Trumpian style interact with these various structural forces to contribute to the success of these political figures?
Because it operates within a broader social context, interacting with various factors and media platforms, the way it circulates and evolves becomes crucial. This is why, at first, I was tempted to describe it as the defining keyword of global politics. It certainly became a significant element, but it is not the only one. This raises an important question: how effective is it in shaping electoral outcomes?
For example, in the most recent US election, its impact was arguably overestimated. Many within the Democratic Party believed that cooking videos, dancing videos and other informal social media engagements would significantly strengthen the connection with voters. However, rather than broadening appeal, these performances often created a theatrical bubble, generating enthusiasm within certain circles while failing to resonate with the broader electorate.
The Kamala Harris campaign illustrates this dynamic. Media coverage frequently described her campaign moments as reaching ‘Obama-level’ enthusiasm, but this perception was not universal. While some audiences embraced this narrative, others viewed her campaign very differently. I was almost certain that Trump would win, although I did not expect the speed and scale of his victory. My concerns stemmed from the presence of alternative narratives about Harris that extended far beyond the positive, performative aspects of her campaign.
One major miscalculation was the belief that charm-based performances alone – dancing, cooking and informal social media appearances – would suffice. As a result, she delayed giving a formal, policy-oriented interview until relatively late in the campaign. This decision quickly raised doubts about whether she could handle high-pressure media engagements independently, inadvertently fuelling criticism from opponents. The question arose early on: Is she truly up to the task? This was particularly damaging given the gendered nature of political scrutiny, where female candidates often face heightened scepticism regarding their leadership capabilities.
Unfortunately, the selection process of the Democrats’ vice-presidential candidate was ultimately based on charm. The selected candidate excelled in short-form video content, performing particularly well in settings that emphasized charismatic appeal. However, when it came to the vice-presidential debate, it became evident that he was not as effective in delivering a compelling, policy-driven performance. This revealed a fundamental weakness: Tim Walz’s strength in informal, charm-based performances did not translate into persuasive debate skills in a formal political setting. If the priority had been selecting a strong debater or policy expert, a natural choice would have been Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro. However, he was not chosen, in part because the decision-making process prioritized a different quality: ‘No, we need someone who embodies the relatable, everyday neighbour – someone adept at charm-based performances’.
That said, we still lack definitive data on the extent to which these factors influenced the election outcome. It is entirely possible that voters were primarily driven by structural concerns, such as high inflation, rising housing costs and a general demand for change. With President Biden’s historically low approval ratings, these economic realities may have overshadowed any impact of campaign performances.
In addition, the fragmented media landscape complicates the effectiveness of charm-based strategies. A viral moment does not necessarily reach the audiences it is intended to persuade. For instance, one of my undergraduate students recently shared an anecdote:
Professor Sonnevend, I’m really concerned. I just spoke to my grandfather, and he’s voting for Trump because he’s convinced that if Kamala Harris becomes president, we will all be forced to drive electric cars. There will be no other options.
This narrative was not dominant in mainstream media, yet it spread effectively through right-wing and conservative channels, shaping voter perceptions in ways that Harris’s campaign failed to counteract.
Ultimately, while multiple factors contribute to electoral outcomes, the performance of political personas remains an important dimension. This is, in part, why the media has shown strong interest in my book – it captures a shift in the way political figures craft and project their public image. However, what remains uncertain is the precise degree to which these performative elements influence election results compared to structural factors such as economic conditions, party strength and media fragmentation. That remains an open and critical question for further research.
What do you think are the future directions in political communication and the study of political elites, especially considering the impact of your theory? What key questions should researchers focus on moving forward?
In terms of the theoretical framing of the book, this is an interdisciplinary work that integrates sociology, political science, performance studies, and international relations. Within communication studies, the literature it most frequently engages with is political communication. However, it is not strictly a political communication book, and I think that distinction is important to note.
The area where my work aligns most closely with political communication is in the discussion of trust – specifically, how pre-existing levels of trust shape an individual’s perception of charm. For example, in the case of Barack Obama, extensive studies have shown that, due to his racial identity, he had to consistently perform at a higher standard to establish credibility and trust. In simple terms, the expectations placed on him were significantly higher. However, this particular discussion does not directly contribute to the broader literature on political elites, so I am not certain that my work makes a clear intervention in that area.
Additionally, do you have any academic career advice for students? Any suggestions on navigating an academic path?
Regarding career advice, much depends on where one intends to pursue employment – whether in academia or the private sector – as different systems and expectations apply. The approach I take in training my students is to encourage them to be bold thinkers – to challenge conventional norms rather than conform to mainstream academic trends. My goal is not to produce intellectual replicas of myself, but rather to help students discover their own intellectual passions and research interests.
One exercise I often assign – and which I highly recommend – is for students to write a one-page statement outlining their core intellectual interests and what they stand for as scholars. This is a particularly challenging task. My own advisor required me to do this, and it was incredibly useful in clarifying my academic trajectory. One way to approach it is to reflect on the book or article that has influenced you the most. For me, that was Media Events by Elihu Katz and Daniel Dayan. Engaging in this kind of intellectual self-reflection – considering all the literature encountered during a PhD programme and identifying the work that resonated the most – can be an effective way to refine one’s academic focus.
Finding one’s own scholarly voice can be difficult, given the strong institutional influences of advisors, committees and academic expectations. This is why I encourage my students to take time away from digital devices and distractions. I often suggest they go to a café or a park, bring only a pen and paper and engage in more tactile thinking – sketching ideas, using a whiteboard or simply writing without the constraints of digital tools. The process of thinking and conceptualizing without screens often yields different and more creative insights.
Another major challenge I observe among my students is perfectionism. Many hesitate to submit their work unless they believe it is flawless – but the reality is that it will never be perfect. Even as a professor, I struggle with this; I found myself buying furniture for my apartment just to avoid reviewing the final proofs of my book. Submitting a final version is always difficult because there is always something that could be improved. I still find it challenging to press the submit button on journal articles. However, overcoming this perfectionism is essential.
This is why I always remind my students: your dissertation is not your final word in your academic career. The most important thing is to complete it. You can always revise it, turn it into a book or publish articles based on it. Many scholars delay their work unnecessarily because they strive for perfection, but this often slows down academic progress.
Finally, my advice is to pursue original and engaging research. Do not settle for safe but uninspiring topics. Find something that genuinely excites you – something that pushes boundaries and contributes meaningfully to the field.
