Barack Obama, the playlister extraordinaire, the man who once held the hopes of an entire generation in his hands, has transformed from a firebrand of change into a curated influencer, peddling his personality as if it were a brand of bottled water. The man who rode into Washington on a tidal wave of “Yes We Can” might as well have added a footnote—yes, we can, but only if it’s comfortably within the bounds of corporate-approved moderation.

Remember those early years? Obama was the symbol, the promise of a country that could finally shed its political baggage and embrace something different. We didn’t just want change; we believed it was coming. Fast forward to now, and what do we have? An endless list of Spotify playlists, a carefully constructed Instagram feed, and a Netflix production deal. It’s as if he took the fervor, the sweat, and the hunger for reform that millions invested in him and fed it straight into the machinery of influencer culture, turning himself into the ultimate “brand,” with a wink and a smile.

Somewhere along the line, the passion he kindled in people for policy and reform was distilled down to a curated vibe, a set of playlists that reflect little more than an awareness of what’s trendy. It’s not just a shift; it’s a betrayal, a cold realization that all that talk of hope and transformation was simply a stepping stone to “influencer status.” Obama isn’t reshaping America anymore; he’s shaping a carefully controlled image of himself, one playlist, one polished Instagram post, at a time.

What about the issues? The promises? The change? Those busloads of hope we all rode in on have gone up in smoke, traded in for a role that’s no deeper than a celebrity endorsement. Obama became what he once promised to reform—an icon without substance, a brand that’s smooth on the surface but hollow beneath. We get a tastefully designed logo, a cool mixtape, maybe a Netflix documentary, but the real work, the hard, uncomfortable work of change, has been neatly sidestepped.

So here he is, the influencer-in-chief, perfectly manicured and market-ready, existing in that rarefied space where he can simultaneously be “one of us” and yet utterly removed from the struggles that still plague the very people who once saw him as a beacon. The playlist might change from year to year, but the tune remains the same: we were sold hope, and we got a brand instead.