The 2003 California gubernatorial election was nutty. It seems less so now because 18 months of being virtually lobotomized via tweets, Access Hollywood tapes, debates over hand (penis) size and dossiers detailing pisscapades has a desensitizing effect. But so wild was the 2003 California gubernatorial election that the Game Show Network constructed a game show debate entitled “Who Wants to Be Governor of California? – The Debating Game,” in which some of the race’s made-for-reality-TV candidates competed for notoriety and the chance to win campaign funds.

Contestants included the former child star Gary Coleman, porn star Mary Carey and basketball legend Bill Walton’s oldest son, Nathan. There was a lot of boob jiggling. There were a lot of jokes about Coleman’s diminutive stature. And one candidate wore a cowboy hat. The conceit of “Who Wants to Be Governor of California?” was that none of these candidates really wanted to be governor of California; this was not politics but entertainment, a chance for a few C- and D-list celebrities to move a letter closer to A in the relevance alphabet.

“Who Wants to Be Governor of California?” might seem like a mere comic sideshow if not for what wound up transpiring in the election. Outside of the frame of the show, candidates too legitimate to participate included media mogul Arianna Huffington, former MLB commissioner Peter Ueberroth and action star Arnold Schwarzenegger, the latter of whom wound up winning the race. Reality television was but a mirror to reality.

In hindsight, it’s easy to understand why 2003 was the year celebrities dominated the California gubernatorial race, and why one ultimately won. The 2003 race was never supposed to happen; it was a recall election, the first in the state’s history and the second successful one in American history. The incumbent Democratic Governor, Gray Davis, who had been elected just the prior year, faced vigorous opposition for having mismanaged the events preceding and surrounding the state’s energy crisis. Voters wanted a change, the sort of savior who only exists in fiction.

The tendency of voters to desire and seek out such a candidate is psychologically documented. In a paper entitled “The Psychology of Voting,” Ohio State Professor of Psychology and Political Science Jon A. Krosnick detailed how, “when Americans begin to learn about a new politician, they approach him or her optimistically, hoping for a ‘white knight’ to appear who will be competent, trustworthy, and effective.”

Viewed through a skeptical lens, Schwarzenegger’s past as a bodybuilding action star and his lack of political experience might have been a disqualifier. But most voters didn’t view Schwarzenegger skeptically. They saw someone who was powerful and who was an outsider. The Terminator might blow things up, but he also might be the only individual fit to fix things, and that was a gamble voters — in a liberal-leaning state, mind you — were willing to wage.

It stands to reason, then, that if some of the long-shot candidates who partook in “Who Wants to Be Governor of California?” had worn nice suits and declined to participate in the game show, they would’ve had a shot. (What made Schwarzenegger more qualified than Gary Coleman but presentation?) The modern age has proven that virtually no celebrity is unelectable. Dating back to the mid-20th century, Americans have elected to prominent office (governor, senator, House member, president) professional athletes, professional pretend athletes, actors, comedians,musicians and, yes, a real estate mogul-turned-reality television star.