Social media has enabled celebrity-fan communication to become two-way, helping creators make a genuine living but also creating new problems
Starting in 2023 and well into 2024, rising rookie SM Entertainment group Riize has been embroiled in controversy due to one member’s seemingly tame actions. I say seemingly because social conservatism runs high in South Korea and this manifests in how K-fans of K-pop can be particularly demanding.
In a nutshell, Riize member Seunghan received massive backlash from fans for… dating. And posting pictures about dating. Unfortunately, his agency didn’t seem to side with him. He was made to apologize publicly many times.
Closer to home, viral P-pop group Bini faced various widely-reported negative fan interactions all revolving around invasion of their privacy.
While it’s all right for fans to feel so connected to artists that they can’t help but scream, things take a turn for the creepy when fans begin to believe they own the idols, policing their behavior and… lives. Why is this such a phenomenon in 2024 of all eras?
For one, it can be traced to what has been called parasocial relationships.
MS Word still underlines parasocial in red but…
There’s this crazy scene in the 1869 Leo Tolstoy intergenerational saga “War and Peace” where a squadron of Polish horsemen, in their fervor to impress Napoleon Bonaparte, drives their horses into a raging river, all of them drowning. This is somewhat plausible given Russia’s fraught history with Poland, but still, this does sound a bit too extra. In either case, this seems to be an early depiction of intense fandom.
The term “parasocial relationship” was coined in 1956 by sociologists R. Wohl and D. Horton as they studied then-new media: Hollywood, primetime television, etc. The consensus between Wohl, Horton, and studies that followed is this: Parasocial relationships occur when a person acts as though in a reciprocal relationship with an entity when the actual relationship is largely one-sided.
And I say ‘entity’ because the definition has come to encompass political figures, fictional characters, and even spirits and deities. Apparently, intense fandom predates Hallyu and even Hollywood’s Golden Age and seems to stretch into the Bronze Age. It’s just that 21st century media and related technologies seem to have made parasocial relationships more pronounced: We’ve moved on from gods to stars, it seems.
Parasocial relationships finally are not limited to the dated (rightfully so) stereotype of screaming fangirls: Technically, all dudebros idolizing LeBron, Kobe (hello, Philippine register of newborn names!), Reynaldo, Kipchoge and more are also engaged in parasocial relationships. This takes a dark turn when you realize many angry young men formed a parasocial relationship with 2019’s Joker.
Parasocial relationships are actually not a bad thing
Psychologists agree that parasocial relationships can help children and adolescents in identity-formation inasmuch as people in this stage of life form attachments to public figures or even fictional characters with values they (often subconsciously) wish to eventually imbibe. “Role model” as such is no idle word.
Even for adults, parasocial relationships can have benefits, the language used to talk about them is just fraught with stigma, kinda like how “being a fangirl” used to have misogynistic undertones.
Psychologists agree that parasocial relationships can help children and adolescents in identity-formation inasmuch as people in this stage of life form attachments to public figures or even fictional characters with values they (often subconsciously) wish to eventually imbibe
For one, there’s the sense of community shared with fellow fans working to achieve goals for their idols or even the public good. What starts as a parasocial relationship between fan and idol can evolve into actual relationships among fellow fans.
And yes, when taken with healthy boundaries, stanning can actually provide emotional release for people in specific circumstances. Peia,* an app specialist in her early 30s moved to Dubai in early 2024, despite building a life with sports and coffee communities with her siblings in Marikina.
One can imagine the challenges of uprooting oneself from such A Village. An Army (BTS fan) since 2022, Peia finds that following the seven-piece boy band has impacted her positively. Though a “lowkey” Army for whom “it’s not really a biggie to buy merch or get regular updates on their activities,” she still credits being able to “work twice as hard and living again and learning to love myself thanks to the boys, their music, and what they stand for.”
She sees BTS’ impact as no different than that of others whose lives have been touched by other creative endeavors, including art and food. She adds that the relationship between the boys and fans is not as “parasocial” as it appears on the surface as members like Jungkook actually find comfort in using their livestreaming app and interacting with fans—interactions that are usually “work hours” for most idols.
Misha Fabian feels the same when it comes to her fans. A sports and fitness content creator primarily focused on figure skating and a marketing specialist by day, she’s had a following since representing the Philippines in international winter sports events. Fabian is also known for her theater and musical activities, active in Kumu during the livestreaming site’s heyday.
She never intended to become an influencer but was egged on by people telling her they inspired her to pursue their passions in the spirit of work-life balance.
“It warms the heart to be told you’ve helped someone in any shape or form. Most of my interactions with fans are like this,” Misha Fabian reveals. “They reaffirm that whatever I’m doing, skating, performing, or content creation, is the right path!”
“It warms the heart to be told you’ve helped someone in any shape or form. Most of my interactions with fans are like this,” she reveals. “They reaffirm that whatever I’m doing, skating, performing, or content creation, is the right path!” She adds that she’s never experienced any fans crossing her boundaries, amid an online following of 11,000+.
Meanwhile, Kassy Lei who is more active on TikTok with a following of more than 20,000 has similar reasons as Fabian as to why she embraced the work—and responsibility—of a content creator.
“Over time, I’ve seen how much people appreciate the content I make. When someone thanks me for recommending a place or a product, it feels rewarding, it makes me very happy,” she recalls of what made her start, and what keeps her going despite the added challenges of a growing following.
The real issue
There are challenges, however, especially since Lei also creates what she calls “sexy posts.”
She’s been doxxed and even followed home: “There are people who’ve been messaging me for years, calling me endearments, and some even get upset when I don’t respond. Some are even luring me [with] lots of money just for a date or a relationship.”
“I remember once responding to a follower who had been messaging me consistently for almost four years. I agreed to a 20-second video call, just to confirm they weren’t someone I knew pretending to be someone else. But afterward, they got really upset when I didn’t engage further, accusing me of playing with their feelings, even though I was clear from the start that the call was just to verify their identity.”
She’s managed to keep things in perspective by “maintaining boundaries, especially in today’s digital world where fans expect a certain level of accessibility or sometimes they think they own you since you’re a public person.”
It seems the problem never really was about parasocial relationships after all, but rather the lack of boundaries from some people, and the entitlement some men feel to women’s bodies and attention
Boundaries for her are “all about learning when to say no and mindfulness of what I’m comfortable with. If something feels off or if I feel like I shouldn’t share something, I don’t. I only engage with safe questions and messages. The moment I sense someone crossing a line, I either tell them to stop or block them.”
Ultimately, however, these interactions haven’t stopped her from “being approachable and interacting genuinely with my audience. It’s all about balance.”
It seems the problem never really was about parasocial relationships after all, but rather the lack of boundaries from some people, and the entitlement some men feel to women’s bodies and attention.
*Surname withheld to protect privacy