So, a Puerto Rican reggaeton star sells out a London stadium. The headlines scream of triumph and cultural exchange. They are wrong. This is not a victory for British soft power. It is a confession of its decline.
Let us be clear: Bad Bunny is a formidable artist. His music pulses with the energy of a generation that knows no borders. That he can fill 80,000 seats in the capital of a former empire is a testament to his talent. But the framing of this event as a showcase of UK cultural soft power is a delusion we must interrogate.
The narrative goes thus: London, the cosmopolitan hub, attracts global talent. This enriches us. It proves that Britain remains a cultural beacon. Rubbish. A beacon shines outward. What we are witnessing is a spotlight turned inward, illuminating our own emptiness. The stadium is full, yes. But of whom? Of Britons hungry for an identity that is not their own. We have outsourced our cultural soul to Puerto Rico, to America, to the globalised pop machine.
Contrast this with the Victorian era, when London was the workshop of the world not merely as a market but as a source. Think of the Great Exhibition of 1851: it showcased British industry, art, and innovation to the world. People came from across the globe to marvel at what we had made. Today, we import stars and call it soft power. This is not power. It is parasitism.
The Romans understood cultural exchange differently. They absorbed Greek art, literature, and religion, but they did so as conquerors who then imposed their own order. The result was a hybrid that served Roman interests. Our modern approach is servile. We open our arms and hope some of the magic rubs off. It does not. The magic belongs to Bad Bunny, to Puerto Rico, to the global entertainment complex. We are just the venue.
This reveals a rot in our intellectual and artistic establishment. We no longer produce culture that resonates globally. Our music charts are dominated by American and Latin acts. Our film industry relies on American studios. Our literature, once the envy of the world, now struggles for relevance beyond the Anglosphere. We have become consumers of culture, not creators.
To be clear, I do not begrudge Bad Bunny his success. He is a brilliant performer who has earned his acclaim. I begrudge our comfortable self-deception. We celebrate London’s diversity and openness while ignoring the hollowing out of our own cultural core. A nation that defines its soft power by its ability to host others has already lost the game.
The true measure of soft power is not how many stars you can attract but how many you can export. When was the last British pop star to conquer the world? Not a reality show contestant, but an artist who defined a genre. Adele, Ed Sheeran: yes, they exist. But they are exceptions. The pipeline is drying up. Our arts education is starved. Our radio stations play fewer British artists. Our youth are taught that authenticity lies elsewhere.
Thus, when I see the headlines about Bad Bunny making history, I see not a triumph but a warning. We are trading the substance of our culture for the spectacle of others. This is the path to decay. The Romans, in their later years, filled their circuses with foreign entertainers while their legions dwindled. We fill our stadiums with foreign idols while our creative industries atrophy.
So enjoy the concert. But do not mistake it for strength. It is the sound of a nation outsourcing its soul.
