From Carrie Bradshaw to Booker judge: Should Sarah Jessica Parker, or any celebrity be deciding the biggest prize in books?

When celebrities enter the world of literature, their presence draws welcome attention to books, but it also muddies the line between a literary expert and serious reader. Two diametrically different pieces – Emma Brockes’s critique in The Guardian and Alex Marshall’s profile in The New York Times – written after the announcement of the 2025 Booker Prize, articulated this dilemma.

The performance of taste

Natalie Portman posing with Virginia Woolf. (Source: booknotification.com)

Brockes looks at the rise of celebrity book clubs and social-media “bookishness” with well-deserved skepticism. She gives a plethora of examples such as Natalie Portman posing with Virginia Woolf, Emma Roberts arranging Joan Didion beside a sleeping infant, and Kaia Gerber declaring that “reading is sexy.” For many, books have become a photo prop to signal intellectual leanings.

Whether celebrities actually read or not, the act is often packaged as lifestyle branding. When books become props, Brockes argues, we risk losing sight of the serious, often slow and solitary experience that reading requires.

It cannot be denied that celebrities have done their part to encourage reading. In India, Twinkle Khanna and Sonali Bendre run book clubs and have emerged as prominent tastemakers, the same way as Oprah Winfrey, Reese Witherspoon and Dua Lipa in the West. Like Parker, some celebrities such as Shah Rukh Khan or Saif Ali Khan are known readers, and the mere glimpse of a book in their hand can drive sales more than those of a literary scholar or even a critically renowned writer. However, Brockes’s quarrel is not with celebrity book clubs, it is with celebrities acting as literary authority.

This allows the visible readers, rather than the most qualified, become the arbiters of taste. This fine while marketing a book or encouraging reading as a lifestyle choice, but a literary prize is an institution whose job is to evaluate some of the most ambitious writing of the year, a task that one would presume requires more than enthusiasm. It requires the ability to compare works across traditions, understand historical context, evaluate structure and style, and spot originality.

The earnest celebrity judge

Enter Alex Marshall, whose profile of Sarah Jessica Parker’s year as a Booker Prize judge presents a radically different picture. Far from dabbling, Parker appears to be the antithesis of the frivolous book-poser. She read a whopping 153 novels, took copious notes, rearranged her family life, and wrestled seriously with the “agony” of whittling down a mountain of books to a longlist of 13.

Marshall portrays her transformation with empathetic detail. The celebrity, who once devoured novels for pleasure, was suddenly confronted by spreadsheets, rereadings, and the profound responsibility of literary judgment.

 

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Her anxieties –”Am I wrong about this book?” – are refreshingly honest. However, are sincerity and commitment enough? Do they make up for years of expertise?

While Sarah Jessica Parker’s year offers a hopeful glimpse of what celebrity participation can look like when taken seriously, it also raises certain questions. Should a celebrity be chosen to judge the Booker because she wants to (Parker got the job after she left a comment on social media)? Because she reads a lot (so many people do)? Because she has a platform? Or because she has a demonstrated history of critical engagement with literature?

The fact that Sarah Jessica Parker had to seek reassurance from her fellow judges, such as the novelist Roddy Doyle, suggests she felt the boundaries of her expertise. That instinct was not imposter syndrome, but self-awareness.

The celebrity eclipse

Ironically, Parker’s presence on the panel garnered equal, if not more, public attention than the 2025 Booker Prize winner himself, David Szalay.

Szalay’s win was particularly surprising to literary observers, with established authors Kiran Desai and Andrew Miller being the bookmakers’ favorites in the lead-up to the announcement.

Yet, in many media circles, the conversation focused less on Szalay’s unexpected triumph and more on Parker’s role in selecting it. One wonders when a celebrity joins a literary institution, does their star power inevitably overshadow the literature they are meant to be celebrating? The Parker effect, while generating headlines, risked turning the prize into a meta-narrative about celebrity credibility rather than a celebration of literary achievement.

A better way forward

The answer is neither lies with rejecting celebrities entirely nor in embracing them uncritically. Let critics, scholars, and authors form the backbone of judging panels. They bring the trained eye and canonical awareness the task demands. Celebrities who genuinely read and care about books, such as Parker, can be invited to join, but as representatives of the passionate reading public, not as replacements for real expertise. The judging criteria should also be made public.

Cultural reach and critical judgment are different skills. Both are important, especially in an age where countless distractions compete with reading, but they are not interchangeable. The bottom line remains that everyone can read, but not everyone should judge. The most qualified person for a judge’s chair is not always the most famous one sitting in it.