This is the age of the political maverick. For months political commentators have dismissed the presidential ambitions of Donald Trump, the billionaire property developer and reality TV star, predicting the imminent collapse of his tacky and provocative campaign.
But with Mr Trump leading the field of candidates for the Republican Party nomination in several states, it seems the commentariat was wrong. Following his win in Nevada, many analysts are now saying that his progress to securing the nomination is “unstoppable”.
He has convinced party members to support him despite insulting a range of constituencies that other candidates seek to court – including women and Latinos. He barely has any policies, except to say he won’t be “pushed around” by the media or taken for a ride by America’s allies, including Japan, Mexico and the Europeans in general.
Foreign observers look with horror at the Trump phenomenon, seeing a sign of the final triumph in America of entertainment over policy. But the same elements are hardly unknown in European politics. Silvio Berlusconi, the cruise ship crooner turned media tycoon, served as prime minister of Italy for nine years, despite endless scandals about his private life and tussles with the law.
And now in Britain, supposedly home of the “mother of parliaments”, the centre of the political stage has been grabbed by another playful maverick – the mayor of London, Boris Johnson, who can claim to be the country’s most popular politician.
Mr Johnson, who will step down as mayor when his term ends in May, is the poster boy of the campaign for Britain to leave the European Union at a referendum in June. The political betting is that he is well placed to succeed prime minister David Cameron – who is campaigning to stay in the EU – if the “leave” campaign wins the vote, but perhaps in either outcome.
The outward similarities between Mr Trump and Mr Johnson are clear: trademark mops of blond hair. Mr Johnson’s locks are normally displayed in artful disarray like an overgrown schoolboy, which is a useful foil to hide his political ambitions.
As for Mr Trump, his hair looks like a confection of spun sugar, kept in place by lengthy brushing and application of products. The more the coiffure is mocked as a 69-year-old man’s attempts to hide a bald patch, the more his fame grows.
It has long been a truism that TV is all about hair. The iconic coiffures might suggest that these two men have found political stardom through presenting a unique, self-caricaturing image. But that is just the start. The necessary platform is the decline of traditional political parties organised on a hierarchical model. As parties move from being mass organisations to become vehicles for the rich individuals and corporate lobbies to wield influence, the political outsider is king. And an outsider needs authenticity to stand out from the careerists.
Mel Robbins, a US commentator and Trump supporter, has boiled down the reasons why Mr Trump is set to win the nomination: he’s real, he doesn’t care what you think, many Americans hate Washington, and you want to see him debate.
Notably absent from this list is any suggestion of policies. Seriousness is death to reality TV, and to the new politics.
It would be wrong to see too many similarities in this pair of blond ambition politicians. Mr Johnson is highly educated and, when stumped for words, is prone to break into Latin or Greek, defying the fierce anti-intellectualism of British political culture. He has written a biography, The Churchill Factor, about Britain's wartime leader (who, like the mayor, was a former journalist). This is widely seen as a route-map to unseating Mr Cameron, though without the springboard of a world war. Mr Trump's book, The Art of the Deal, offers the insight faithfully followed by the author that controversy sells.
Both men are largely untested in politics. Though Mr Johnson has been mayor of London since 2008, the post does not require him to send soldiers into battle and die, or to rule that the sick cannot have the medicines they need, or other tough choices that real executive power entails.
But what if these two mavericks actually had their hands on power? For Mr Johnson, the EU question is all about Britain regaining its sovereignty, breaking the fetters of the project of European political integration.
One cannot help feeling that for the mayor, it is 1939 all over again, with plucky Britain rising to the challenge of fighting alone. But would America support Britain? The evidence suggests that the US sees Britain as useful only as part of the EU, which Mr Johnson must surely know. If he propels the leave campaign to success, it will set a fateful example for the EU and would hasten its unravelling.
As for Mr Trump, a world view can be discerned behind his provocations. His seemingly empty slogan, “Make America great again”, embodies the sense that the globalised world is a Darwinian place of all against all. The system of alliances that the US leads is, in his view, a costly Cold War leftover.
According to this logic, foreign policy would be all about the art of the deal. President Trump could make his peace with Russian president Vladimir Putin, whom he admires as a strong leader pursing his own interests. The US and Russia would fight ISIL together. Japan would have to pay for protection against a resurgent China, or go it alone. The Europeans would have to pay for US military support against Russia, either in cash or trade concessions. The Mexicans would have to pay for the construction of a great wall across the border, while millions of undocumented immigrants would be forced back south.
This is the opposite of what the US foreign policy establishment has pursued since America emerged as a superpower in 1945. Could this happen? Highly unlikely, but it is dangerous to rule anything out these days.
Alan Philps is a commentator on global affairs
On Twitter: @aphilps
