Eurovision Asia must let Asia write the rules, not just the songs

Can you franchise a feeling? That is the real question behind Eurovision Asia, which finally takes the stage in Bangkok on November 14 after nearly two decades of false starts. The brand is portable. Whether the magic is, we aren't so sure.

The facts are simple enough. According to the Spanish outlet ESC Plus, eleven countries will compete: Bangladesh, Bhutan, Cambodia, South Korea, the Philippines, Laos, Malaysia, Mongolia, Nepal, Thailand and Vietnam. Thailand's Channel 3 hosts, and Voxovation runs the show under licence from the EBU. The idea dates to 2008, passed through an Australian attempt that was shelved in 2021, and was only officially announced on March 31, 2026.

The format is the real author here

ESC Insight reports that the rules stay the same as in Europe: song length, number of people on stage, all of it. Director Martin Green himself admitted that this "naturally pushes this into a pop music space", while adding that pop is not the same everywhere.

That is a generous reading. In our view, a song-length limit and a TV-friendly staging template are not neutral containers. They are an aesthetic. A Himalayan folk tradition or a long-form Southeast Asian style doesn't simply fit inside them. It gets edited to fit. Europe's own contest has made room for rock, folk fusion and classical-inspired acts, as ESC Insight notes, but we suspect that flexibility was earned over time as countries learned to bend the rules. Asia is being handed the template on day one, with a commercial clock ticking.

And the clock matters. The same report says Eurovision Asia is run as a fully commercial operation, whereas in Europe the event is paid for by participation fees from public service broadcasters and sponsorship. Some of the money from the Asian version flows back to the EBU. We don't think commerce is a sin. But advertisers probably like legible, exportable, English-friendly pop, and incentives tend to win arguments that good intentions start.

South Korea is both the draw and the danger

The lineup has an obvious star in South Korea, a country whose pop industry has enormous global influence. ESC Insight points out that K-pop stars dominated the IFPI international charts in 2025 and that K-pop acts sent video messages of support at the launch. That is a gift for visibility.

It is also a risk. If the glossiest, most polished entries set the tone, the contest could become a showcase for a pop model that already travels well, while the smaller delegations play supporting roles. Bhutan, Laos or Nepal don't need a stage to be told they are "diverse". They need one where their sound is the point, not the garnish. Green has described the broadcasters' appreciation of the contest as a way to give national pop stars a chance as a "no-brainer". It's smart business, and it may flatten the very difference the contest advertises.

Voting and platforms could be the genuinely new part

Here is where Asia might actually innovate. The national selections were streamed on the official Eurovision YouTube channel, and viewers could vote online through the ZOOP platform even if they don't live in the country choosing its entry: eight free votes spread across at least three songs, plus up to 10 paid extras. In practice, a fan in Seoul could weigh in on a pick in Manila. That is a different relationship between audience and artist than the traditional televote, and it looks built for the way people consume music now.

Still, paid votes inside a commercial product deserve scrutiny. We would want to see how the scoring weighs them before calling this a democratic leap. And there is a fair caveat: some of the participating broadcasters operate in countries with close government ties, as the Spanish outlet Eurovision Spain points out. "United by Music" is easier to say than to guarantee on those stages.

What we'd watch on November 14

Judge the night by one test: does anything on stage feel like it couldn't have come from Europe's template? A song in a regional language, an instrument, a staging idea that the rulebook would normally smooth away. If the winner is a flawless English-language pop single, the contest has succeeded as a product and failed as an idea.

Our verdict: don't dismiss it as a knockoff, and don't crown it a cultural milestone yet. The first edition is a negotiation. If the organizers listen, edition two should loosen the rules Asia finds awkward. If they don't, the continent will have borrowed a format and given up the chance to write its own.