"But how can someone be so divine?": kpop, parasociality and objectification

It’s Tuesday night. I get home after a long day of work and, tired as I am, I decide to unwind by watching some YouTube. There is a recommended short in my feed. It’s a vertical fancam of a member of a kpop group performing one of my favorites from their discography. Dang, he’s suave isn’t he? I think to myself as I open up the comment section after watching it two or three times in a row. The comment section is filled with the usual, similar sentiment, and then a comment catches my eye. This person wrote “But how can someone be so divine?” and I stop in my tracks. I screenshot the thing. It makes me think, my brain working faster than I can come up with the words. Why write something like this? I mean, I can’t judge. I was thinking a similar thing. I've also giggled like a schoolgirl watching the very same men dance around and do finger hearts at the camera. But it is the wording that catches my eye. Divine.

A god-like quality, an object of absolute adoration. Divinity implies the thrill, adoration, pain and desperation of the sublime. Now, I don't think this person was philosophizing about the nature of divinity as opposed to humanity while writing the comment -they probably meant to say something along the lines of "how can they be so good looking?" Or perhaps English is not their native language, so the word has a different implication for them. For example, some Spanish dialects use "es divino" as a way to say that something is extremely precious and pleasing on the eye. In English, the word can be used in the same context. And yet here I am, questioning a simple word choice. And the reason why the wording shook me to the core is another word choice: the kpop performers, who are trained for tasks such as singing, dancing, media appearances, and more, are called idols. The implication, and the economic reality of it, is that these idols are indeed objects of adoration. And an entire industry rests on the shoulders of such adoration. Idolatry brings money. That is a universal truth that surely can be applied in a religious sense but on a wider aspect, it can be applied to many other things, though it's particularly palpable in the entertainment industry.

The Koreans did not invent the boy band (which traces its origins back to the UK and the America), nor did they invent the idol group, but they have certainly perfected the formula. The boy band has a fairly long history and is, in my opinion, an intrinsically global phenomenon which I won’t discuss here. However, I want to make a brief mention at the concept of “idol”. As far as I know, “idol” as a term to refer to a specific performer was first used in Japan in the 60s¹. It’s not easy to find a specific definition of what an “idol” is but once you wrap your head around it, it’s difficult to not see how it’s a very specific type of entertainer. Wikipedia defines the Japanese idol as “primarily singers with training in other performance skills such as acting, dancing, and modeling. Idols are commercialized through merchandise and endorsements by talent agencies, while maintaining a parasocial relationship with a financially loyal consumer fan base.” while on the article for Korean idol they also mention “highly managed star system that idols are produced by and debut under” ². These are competent definitions to start with.

The idol as a product

Here is the thing. Kpop is, by nature, a music industry. But in reality, it doesn't have all that much to do with music because the product isn't actually the music --it's the group, and concretely, the idol. The fascinating, and successful thing of kpop as a business is that throughout their history, companies have been able to develop an almost "total" entertainment product. Sure, it is the music and the dozen versions of an album that you are being sold, but it is also the fashion, the visual concept and aesthetics, the dance, the reality shows, the broadcastings, the interviews, the social media posts, the music videos, the concert films, the brand publicity, the hours upon hours of behind the scenes content, the parasocial relationship³, and even platforms such as Weverse or Bubble. Idols are, of course, people. But they are turned into objects, not subjects, of desire. [The constant search for perfection, and a desire for a worker that will not tire and never let you down are probably causes of the growing interest in virtual idols, but that’s a topic for another day]. Idols can never be subjects as we only see a very narrow, very curated image of them. Because for someone to be a subject, rather than an object, they need to be on equal foot to the observing other. This can never happen in a parasocial relationship. The desire I'm talking about doesn't necessarily have to be sexual in nature. It can be another form of affection or devotion but the result remains the same. The very curated, very narrow public persona idols exhibit might be closer or more distant to their "real" personality, but that is not important. What is important is that the fan is shown traces of their personality, their witticisms, their stories, regardless of how “real” they are. Surely, there is room for sincerity, but there is also room for control. The extent to which companies actually control everything an idol says and does depends on the case and it's not something we can ever really know. What's important is that the audience "falls in love" with these curated personalities. Enough in love to want to watch more content, go to concerts, get into fan meeting lotteries. Enough in love to keep the business running.

I'm not saying any of these things in a cynical way. Rather, I think we have to be analytical and critical about even the things we like the most. Profit is profit. That is not wrong in itself. But being aware of how this profit might potentially be done at your own expense (not just literally, in the economic sense, but also more dangerously, emotionally and psychologically) is important. Truly reflecting on and examining how these aspects have led to much of the success in a now massive industry and cultural export is important for analysts of different fields, but it's most crucial to those who consider themselves fans.

Parasociality

Idolizing implies an unbalanced relationship between the subject who idolizes and the object of adoration. In this case, we are talking about people. The kpop industry has learned and perfected the techniques that allow to exploit this initial transaction of feeling into a money making machine by creating true parasocial bonds between idol and fan. The subject has a certain power over the observed object ⁴. The fan is the subject, of course, and the idol is the object, but part of the attractiveness of the object is that it’s an interactive object. The idol, as object, offers the implication of familiarity and a certain feeling of closeness.

In an interconnected yet atomized world like ours, loneliness has become a massive goldmine to be exploited. With the exception of online streamers, I think kpop idols (or rather, their agencies) are among the people who make the most out of this connection. The connection gives the fan a certain feeling of belonging, as they become part of a community of fans who share in their adoration. This alone can placate feelings of loneliness, but it's often not enough. Fandom spaces are often rather stressful or tiring places inasmuch as toxicity and "territoriality" are rampant. In a way, it's an online (and sometimes even a physical) place where dynamics similar to that of football hooligans are replicated --sometimes with almost as much vitriol and violence. The kpop group is the team, another kpop group can be perceived as a rival and therefore a displeasing object. Haters gonna hate, sure, but there is a social dynamic at play here.

But there is more to it. Kpop idols create a seemingly endless flow of content. Part of it is just to stay relevant: show appearances and magazine covers help you promote the group and therefore make a living. Part of it, however, is either demanded or fed to fans in order to cultivate a relationship. And, of course, it is a relationship that is disproportionate from the start. Say a certain idol opens up a livestream and chat. They often do it: it's part of the job, but for some it also seems to be a genuine outlet to unwind a bit. Idols will always claim to love their fans, and that might very much be true --they depend on fans for income, and perhaps (in some cases) even as a source of self assurance. Many idols start out very young, when the sense of self is not quite formed, and I could totally see how being thrown into the spotlight would make someone easily swayed to both negative and positive opinions of themselves. So our hypothetical idol is chatting, or perhaps even playing a video game, listening to music or (often) eating something as they go. Suddenly they see comments of people telling them about their own life or saying they are struggling. Our idol might stop for a moment and read the comment and even offer some advice or consolation. The fan will likely be delighted. But at the end of the day, no matter how much good heart our idol has, it was just a comment among another few thousand. It's in actions and interactions like this that the parasocial link deepens. The fans are left with the feeling their idol cares, that the idol is kind, that the idol is a safe space and something akin to a friend. But our example characters will never get to know each other in a truly meaningful way. The fan doesn’t know anything about the inner live or struggles of their idol. In turn, the idol will very likely forget the name, nickname or face of the fan at some point, as is natural. This would not be a problem to understand for anyone who isn't delusional or easily impressionable, but the lines can get blurrier when this is the message you are being sent over, and over, and over again -your favorite idol is a good person, they care, they care about you and love you, they are a safe space, etc.

And then there is the cherry on top: what these companies sell is, often, an overt fantasy boyfriend or girlfriend. For real. The idol has to have a good, clean image, they have to be nice to their fans, look impeccable, say cute things to the camera, interact with fans, holding their hands and telling them nice things. And they are available. That's part of the trick, that's the reason why dating bans exist (though fortunately that seems to be finally changing). That's right: idols are often forbidden by contrat from dating. There are entire media "scandals" when it is found out an idol is in a relationship and it can be the reason for contract termination particularly during the early stages of a group. And fans, particularly Korean fans, may even ask an idol to be removed from the group after things like this (often unsuccessfully from what I've seen). There is a marked romantic tone in kpop songs and promotions⁵.

Objectification

Attractiveness, and bluntly put sex appeal are also integral parts of the equation⁶. Idols always have to look pretty and attractive. It’s interesting to see how different types of attractiveness and different levels of more overtly sexualized images are used as distinct marketing strategies. For example, some groups have distinguished themselves from others by having a more “manly” and “sexy” image such as 2PM. Some groups have gone into notable “sexy” transformations that were even seen as scandalous at the time (such as Brown Eyed Girls’ Abracadabra). Some groups opt for a more “mature and sophisticated” aesthetic, while others opt for a more playful sexuality and others adopt a cute and childish image instead of a more sexualized one (see Mamamoo, EXID and early days Twice respectively). Boy groups may sometimes also opt for a “cute and soft” image (see Got7’s Just right or NCT Dream’s early days). Cute concept, girl crush concept, dark concept, light concept, colorful concept, you name it. All of them have different aspects which can be considered attractive, aimed at different audiences during different times. Different group members also fill the quota in different ways. Oftentimes, there will be some members that are more sexualized than others, while others are pushed for a cuter image. I’ve even noticed certain boy groups even have their designated member to lift/take off his shirt during performances (I wish I was making this up but once you notice the pattern you can’t escape it).

But it is not enough that they are desirable, of course. Idols also have to be, on some level, aspirational. Plastic surgery, strict dieting, makeup: these are things that help achieve that goal. The beauty standard is narrow and arguably getting even narrower, but idols have to fit into a certain image of perfection. In sum: idols have to be divine. This image of perfection is projected as part of the product, and it's as much part of the marketing strategy as it is a thing that will later grant brand deals. This image often feeds back negatively into the self image and perception of fans, especially young ones⁷. Young people, and particularly young girls, already deal with much aesthetic pressure. Seeing their favorite idol talking about their latest extreme diet to "get in shape" for a comeback or about how "puffy" their porcelain skin looks, or noticing how they changed their nose or eye shape before debuting certainly don't help. Feelings of inadequacy might follow, especially for mentally vulnerable young and insecure people, feeding further into the beauty industry complex that exploits these insecurities.

This commodification and objectification of the self naturally affects idols. From dealing with vile hate comments to media scrutiny to trying to keep up with busy schedules and demanding image requirements, it's not precisely a kind industry. Quite the contrary. Idols often share accommodations with their fellow group members upon debut. Perhaps for some it can be a source for comfort. For others, it may be hell living on earth⁸. But it's not needed to be a genius to understand why literally living with your coworkers, often separated from family (not to mention the possible dating bans) sounds like an exhausting affair, no matter how close you are to them. There is also the issue with obsessive stalker fans, the overall lack of intimacy and general presence of cameras, the tight release schedules. Typically, a kpop group will have two Korean releases in a year, and on top of that they might have tours, release Japanese material, film a drama, etc. Promotions and touring are very physically demanding for any artist, let alone one who is supposed to always look absolutely pristine. On top of that, particularly acute for female idols, there is a sense of "expiration date" associated with age, especially heavy in smaller groups still struggling to make a breakthrough. Burnout must be rampant. Some idols have come forward to talk about anxiety and panic issues, depression, and so on, very slowly opening up a much needed conversation. Now, this could be a positive use of the parasocial link with fans, opening the door for positive impact. If you see your idol sharing their struggle, you might start recognizing your own and start dealing with it. But it has taken literal human lives to open up this conversation. Where there is a light, there is a shadow, and this is one of the darkest sides of the industry.

Power: a brief mention

I will not comment too much on this because honestly, each of the things that I will comment on this section deserves its own in-depth meditation, but it’s important to comment on this as well.

Marketing

An idol, like other types of celebrities, has a power that can be exerted over fans. The most obvious, and arguably most inoffensive example is how they can influence fashion and the rest of the kpop industry. But they can also sway opinions, influence consumers into buying this or that. This is the reason why their image has to be so impeccable: idols are expected to be good role models because the entire industry knows a successful idol will hold a lot of soft power, and nobody wants a bad influence on their children, do they? Companies force this good image into their idols as a way to placate parents, fill social expectations and also to keep idols in place. The facade can’t be broken. Idols know it, companies know it, fans expect it.

Diplomacy

As a source of soft power, rather than influence, idols can be an interesting, sometimes even powerful, international export. Soft power is a political concept that refers to influence that is not expressed coercively⁹, which can be used to clean up the image of an entire country and its history. Hollywood is a powerful soft power tool, but for our case perhaps the example of Japan is much more useful. Their soft power owes much to their culture, their language and many “high culture” exports. “Japonisme” has been a thing since the 19th century after all. But much of their influence comes down to pop culture. Japan is a cultural powerhouse of such weight that not many people know, or care, about their numerous internal problems and their bloody colonial history. South Korea has taken careful note of the power that pop culture can have on international relations. The so-called “hallyu wave” of which kpop, Korean dramas and even cosmetics are part is as much a pop culture phenomenon as a state-sponsored marketing campaign¹⁰. And now South Korea is everywhere, South Korea is fashionable, South Korea is cool. Idols are now, in a certain way, also ambassadors of their country. As such we have seen scenes like girl group Red Velvet performing for North Korean leader Kim Jong Un during a festival, apparently much to his pleasure, or the then first lady of the United States Melania Trump sharing stage with Minho of the group Shinee during an official act, just to name a couple ones that I remember in particular¹¹. The topic of kpop as a source of soft power deserves its own long extended essay.

Abuse of personal power

The power dynamic, however, is not limited to influence and pop culture diplomacy. Fame itself is a source of power, especially when coupled with enough money. Like in the cases of other celebrities or famous streamers, idols can use their fame, name and image to pursue actual favors, relationships, sex or money from so-called fans. On occasion there have been scandals related to this, such as public denouncing of a certain idol for cheating (sometimes disproven, sometimes not), sexual harassment allegations, extortion, and so on. The most glaring and dramatic case is probably the Burning Sun scandal, in which a vile mix of assault, rape, sex trafficking and other crimes came to light and in which many idols and celebrities were involved -with Seungri, of iconic record-breaking boy group BigBang being particularly prominent in the case¹².

As with many other things, some people who gain any semblance of power will use it to take advantage of and hurt others. The scale of cases such as the Burning Sun should not hide the fact that this is not unique to the kpop industry or the entertainment world, and it is not a problem localized in a specific country or city. On the contrary, when someone who has bad intentions encounters adoration or a semblance of power, they will take advantage of it. Men (and women, but honestly it will statistically be men) who become idols might find, if they wish, and endless source of prey among their fans if they so wish or might use their fans as a protection from online hate and to silence voices of victims. Therefore despite everything I’ve commented on the objectification of idols, we must never forget that the power imbalance of object of desire (in our case, the idol) and subject of desire (the fan) is not as straight forward as it seems on paper. Rather, it’s a multifaceted complex issue. The “divinification” of idols should never make us lose sight that these are people, and as such, they are capable of evil just as much as any other human.

A personal epilogue

Now circling back to our starting point. My personal history with kpop is a relatively recent one. See, I got into kpop fairly late, into my early twenties, at a time when I was studying things related to soft power and social psychology at university. I’d like to think I entered kpop not just with the eyes of a fan but also with the critical eye of an academic, sociology, politology and feminist glasses on.

I, like other friends of my age, feel like I've largely "outgrown" kpop as far as new output by new bands goes. We're not interested in the new groups, so keeping up with the entire "scene" or industry like we've done before feels tedious. There is a disconnect. We're getting closer to thirty and so, what appeal can a group who just debuted with an average age of 18 years old have for us? Nothing. Not to mention that we watch with alarm how idols seem to be debuting younger and younger every day. From a product perspective I understand it. Kpop is marketed mostly at teenagers and young adults, and catching audiences as young as possible is a guarantee to have income for as long as possible, especially in the case of Korean men who see their careers necessarily halted when it’s time to do military service.

It also doesn’t help that a lot of idols, men and women, are decidedly marketed with a very youthful image, even when they're already in their thirties. Do we really need a grown ass man singing about puppy love? Maybe not. So kpop having nothing to tell women of my generation anymore is ok, natural even. Me and my friends will complain like old ladies (we're ancient for fandom standards, it seems) about how the music is so bad nowadays, even for groups we had grown to like. I'll keep joking about how the best years the industry saw were 2015-2017 (it's not completely a joke, I have a playlist to prove my point). And yet, even if I “outgrow” kpop, the topic itself will always be fascinating to me. Its many facets show different yet acute aspects of late stage capitalism. Seeing these aspects exemplified here helps us understand our world better. Analyzing the kpop industry means analyzing so called celebrity culture, beauty standards, gender roles, globalization, soft power, marketing, race issues, the line between cultural appropriation and multiculturalism, and more. I have barely touched on many of these topics.

So while I think about all of this, I will keep an eye out for the releases of my favorite groups and hold the hope that this or that group will make a comeback despite all odds (Exid, please, I'm begging on my knees). Frankly, the entire reason why I'm writing this article is because I got very interested in a certain 2nd generation group and binged their music videos, concerts and discography. We're supposedly in the 5th generation now! So I'll keep looking and wondering how things changed, how these changes reflect deeper social trends, all the while I sing along to Korean lyrics I can barely pronounce and wonder if love is indeed made of 4 walls.