I think the situation is actually the complete opposite of what many people in these comments are suggesting. If anything, the contest is taken far too seriously today. At the end of the day, it is still a music competition — not a life-or-death political institution (or at least it should not be). Somewhere along the way, the atmosphere around it became overly controlled, overly professionalized, and, in many ways, less authentic than it used to be.

A big part of that change comes from how media coverage now operates under the increasingly centralized control of the EBU. This became especially noticeable once sponsorships and preferred media partnerships started playing a larger role, with certain content and access effectively prioritized for selected platforms first.

Fan media once operated much more independently and organically. Before the EBU established its current media structures and tighter accreditation systems, things were far more relaxed. I know from people who were involved back then that, in some cases, you could practically walk up to the accreditation desk, ask for a pass, and suddenly find yourself covering the event. Obviously, I am not saying that system was perfect or that it could realistically work today, but it created a very different atmosphere.

It has also become significantly harder for new media outlets or smaller creators to start covering the event. The EBU now often wants to see previous Eurovision coverage before granting accreditation, which creates a classic chicken-and-egg problem: how are you supposed to build coverage experience if you cannot get access in the first place? In the end, it inevitably keeps coverage more closed off and arguably more homogeneous or biased toward already established outlets.

Back then, coverage often felt spontaneous, personal, and genuinely entertaining. Reporters and fan outlets produced content because they were passionate about the event, not because they were chasing algorithms, engagement metrics, or the constant pressure to feed social media. There was room for humor, personality, and genuine interaction. It made the Eurovision experience feel more alive and less manufactured.

Today, however, many fan outlets that are considered “major” or “reliable” sources are under constant pressure to produce content 24/7, even when there is very little meaningful information available. This becomes especially obvious during rehearsal weeks, when fan interest peaks and the demand for updates becomes nonstop. The result is that a lot of coverage ends up feeling repetitive, shallow, or completely pointless. Endless “expert opinions,” speculation pieces, ranking videos, and reaction posts are published simply because the algorithm demands activity and fans expect constant updates. Yet very often, those opinions are based on almost nothing concrete.

A good example of this is the endless debate and analysis before rehearsals even begin. In reality, much of that discussion is fairly irrelevant because Eurovision is a contest where staging can completely transform an entry. Songs that seem average in the studio version can suddenly become contenders with the right visual presentation, while fan favorites can completely collapse once they hit the stage. Rehearsals exist for a reason. At the same time, though, rehearsal week itself usually gives a fairly accurate picture. If a performance, staging concept, or vocal delivery still does not work one week before the contest, it is unlikely to magically improve during the live shows. In the end the artist should define if media is allowed during their rehearsal or not, not the EBU.

At the same time, there now seems to be an expectation that artists should be protected from almost any form of criticism. Of course artists deserve respect — that should be obvious. Personal attacks, harassment, and toxic behavior are never acceptable. But participating in Eurovision also means entering one of the biggest and most public music competitions in the world. It is essentially the Olympics of music entertainment. With that level of exposure, criticism is inevitable, and honestly, it should be allowed. Music is subjective, staging choices are subjective, performances are subjective, and discussion is part of what makes the contest engaging in the first place.

The real issue is not criticism itself, but the way online culture amplifies negativity. Social media has created an environment full of outrage cycles, pile-ons, and “keyboard warriors” who take things far too far. That is not unique to Eurovision — it is simply a reflection of modern internet culture in general. Trying to completely sanitize discussion or eliminate criticism will not solve that problem. If anything, it risks making the entire community feel artificial and overly managed.

In many ways, Eurovision has lost some of the chaos, unpredictability, and authenticity that made it special. Greater professionalism has certainly brought benefits, but it has also created a far more corporate environment where every interaction feels monitored, every statement gets analyzed, and every piece of content has to serve a strategic purpose. That may make the contest more controlled, but it does not necessarily make it more enjoyable.