Within hours of Oprah Winfrey’s Golden Globes speech last week, the internet had somehow transformed the moment from the capstone of an exceptional career in entertainment to the launch of a new political ascendant: President Winfrey. #Oprah2020 surged on Twitter. Quinnipiac University tweaked their polls to pit Trump against Winfrey. Etsy sellers began rolling out Oprah campaign merch. It was on.

Why not Oprah? Politicians have long used rousing speeches as a ticket to a national campaign; Obama’s 2004 DNC keynote address charted a path that led to the Oval Office. And for viewers, the presentation of the Cecil B. DeMille Award looked a lot like political convention, albeit a glitzier, more attractive audience (and a significantly more presidential-seeming speaker than the current holder of the office).

Besides, as many love pointing out, the floodgates are open. While Donald Trump’s presidency may be an anomaly—the result of a strange confluence of events that landed a reality TV show star in America’s highest office— it may also be is a tipping point that, once breached, allows celebrities to become serious candidates for president. Certainly, the combination of a rabid 24-hour news cycle and social media has been a powerful tool for the aspiring self-appointed politician. If Trump could weaponize his social following into votes then why not, say, Selena Gomez, who boasts the largest following on Instagram? How long before President Kim Kardashian? What happens when Jake Paul's fans turn 18 and can vote? The idea that leading a nation requires experience governing something other than a billion-dollar company and a Twitter empire no longer jibes with today’s true governing metric: social reach.

But blaming social media misses the point: that’s only one small factor in the rise of the celebrity candidate. Name recognition has always been the biggest hurdle for politicians entering the national arena—a fact celebrities have capitalized on since long before the internet. Political dynasties hinge on it; George W. Bush, Justin Trudeau, Hillary Clinton, were aided by their familiar last name. “Pappy” O’Daniel, a musician and radio host, used his show to allow Texas families intimate entre into his personality; this recognition landed him the governorship of Texas and a stint in the U.S. senate.

Blaming social media misses the point: it's only one small factor in the rise of the celebrity candidate.

That name recognition is exactly why celebrity endorsements have been meaningful throughout modern electoral politics. John Kennedy called in the Rat Pack to stump for him, which may have helped him keep his narrow edge over the less glamorous Richard Nixon. Ronald Reagan was an actor campaigning for Barry Goldwater, when an inspirational endorsement speech launched his own political career. (When Reagan campaigned for president later, he had his own team of celebrities, including Frank Sinatra, boosting him on the trail.) And let’s not forget Oprah’s 2008 endorsement of Obama, which social scientists at Northwestern estimated generated him an additional one million votes in the general election.

Admittedly, Twitter enhanced the ability of the masses to nominate people for higher office at a whim. “Social media allows a new issue to take hold quickly,” says Joshua Tucker, the director of the Jordan Center for the Advanced Study of Russia, who studies effects of social networks on political systems at New York University. “It’s a function of two characteristics: virality, and the sheer speed of the digital media.”

According to Tucker, social networks allow a group of people to take hold of an idea quickly, which can spread through a community launching a speedy narrative. “A bunch of people tweet about it, then the media writes articles about someone running for president, and then WIRED writes an article about why everyone is writing about the potential candidate,” he says. “Then the cycle is complete.”

Speaking of those articles: the media’s not innocent in this. Difficulty capturing readers attention propels outlets to post polarizing content that’s imminantly shareable, explains Lisa-Maria Neudert, a doctoral candidate at the Oxford Internet Institute. “Media, of course, would rather write a story about an unlikely candidate than something that’s going exactly as planned.”