Racism, losing influence due to “anti-woke”, people not having disposable income to support, etc.
A lot of the novelty is gone. Even “inventing a new lane” won’t hit the same like it did the last few decades.
Additionally, things “when they were good” had so little actual value and substance that when times got bad most people saw most of that shyt as nothing but hot air at the end of the day.
Celebrityism during Covid got exposed for being overall useless when it comes to the grand scheme.
A pandemic like COVID-19 renders celebrity nearly useless, and the lack of fan adoration—not a pandemic—is the celebrity’s version of a global crisis.
wyvarchive.com
A pandemic like COVID-19 renders celebrity nearly useless, and the lack of fan adoration—not a pandemic—is the celebrity’s version of a global crisis.
A global crisis like COVID-19 renders celebrity nearly useless. And separates the people who have not lost touch with their humanity as celebrities from the ones who were clearly body-snatched years ago.
Or maybe, this is who they always were.
Why is this important to note? Well, in a true crisis,
certain needs get prioritized—and mainly those that have to do with survival, safety, and if one has any spoons left, love. Abraham Maslow
summarized such needs years ago in his 1943 paper “
A Theory of Human Motivation” (see below) and while it’s been modified since then (in that certain needs don’t to be met 100% before you move on to the next level of needs that require fulfillment), the central point remains. Human beings, in particular, are always gonna try to meet needs that focus on survival, security and safety first (like food, water, shelter, clothing, health, order, and sex—in the “reproductive” sense) before moving on to more mental and emotional needs (like love, self-esteem, and self-actualization). Maslow referred to the former as D-needs and the latter as B-needs. And guess which group “love and adoration for celebrities—aka people you don’t really know, might never meet you, and wouldn’t care if you drowned in a puddle of your own mucus—falls into?
Exactly. When shyt hits the fan, extraneous love and adoration for someone who doesn’t even meet your immediate survival needs are going to go out of the fukking window. And do you know what crucial social and societal currency is the first thing to get yeeted towards the sun when the general public decides to abolish extraneous love and adoration towards celebrities for the time being?
Attention.
It is truly as simple as that, my dear readers. Celebrities thrive on attention. And it’s not as simple as how we’ve made “clout” out to be. And it’s not merely to boost their self-esteem or stroke their already fragile egos (although that is most certainly a byproduct). No. You see, because celebrities and their existence fall into the extraneous needs category, their currency is nothing like ours. While we, the plebeians, deal in the currency of physical money, celebrities deal in the currency of attention. Attention is their “money” and it’s the economy they bow down to. This is because attention—or the amount of it—is converted directly into power, money, and bourgeoisie-level access. And the goal is to amass as much of it as they can and as quickly as they can. And the interesting thing about this “attention economy” is that it too, as my EIC Lara Witt explained to me,
has its own hierarchies.
This refers to what people understand as A-List to the D-List (or rather, no-list) celebrities.
For celebrities (usually singers, musicians, actors, athletes, and the rare TV/reality TV personality) at the top (A-List), all the attention they have accumulated over the years through hard work (hopefully), talent (hopefully), likability (subjective), and sheer luck (occasionally) is maintained through measured appearances and work. These are the celebrities that have made
a lasting cultural impact. Because they understand they can get
a lot of attention with minimal work, while simultaneously understanding that too much positive or negative attention (overexposure) for nonsense things—like, I don’t know—
clapping like a seal on your balcony—cheapens your celebrity and risks you descending into a lower class of celebrity. A good example of this? Beyoncé. The woman is beyond the A-List (A+) and she’s
the famous person that even other famous people fawn over because she has her foot on the neck and heartbeat of the attention economy. And she has a key understanding that her measured and calculated secrecy
and talented work mean
that the public will never lose interest in her.
B-List celebrities are still usually actors, singers, musicians, athletes, and etc. and still pretty famous, and have managed to impart
some cultural impact but their appearances—while welcome—are not as highly sought after for social functions. But they are still expected to make these appearances more often than A-List celebrities but in a similarly
deliberate way to avoid overexposure. This is the difference between, for example, popular MCU actors (that is A-List celebrities like RDJ, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, and Chris Hemsworth) and lesser-known, lesser liked, or lesser-fawned-over actors (say, Mark Ruffalo, the inferior Chris, and—barely—Yeehaw Barton’s actor). C-List is the next step down. Entertainment Weekly once defined this as
“that [person with] the easy-to-remember but hard-to-name character actor.” You are well aware of their skills and talents as an actor or singer or whatever and they pop up in your media a lot, but their name sometimes escapes you (think… Cillian Murphy for example. Bet you just went “That name sounds familiar… and yet…”). The type of celebrities have made
minimal cultural impact and rely on paparazzi shots, walks, premiere appearances, and constant media attention. They are allowed to occasionally dip their toes in overexposure, as the alternative is a quick slide into obscurity… via the D-List.
And the D-List (and below) is where everyone else lives. Name that person and they’re probably a D-List celebrity. This class is reserved for “up and coming” singers, actors, musicians, reality stars and even some “influencers” who do have some type of talent or quirk that interests the general public, but haven’t amassed enough love, adoration, and goodwill to just coast on all of that. This list also includes has-beens and stars of yesteryear. They have made
little to no cultural impact. This makes them, interestingly enough, the hyper-celebrity class. Overexposure is the name of the game here and if they don’t play it—they lose their place in celebrity hierarchy and are forced to start from scratch. A good example of this (and who straddles the fine line between the C and D lists) is singer Camila Cabello. While she has her share of musical bops, the singer needs constant media attention and audience interaction because she has yet to leave the type of cultural footprint that A-List celebrities have and receiving no attention would mean the death of public interest in her
and the death of her celebrity status. Which likely explains
her (alleged) PR relationship with
fellow singer Shawn Mendes. And I’m sure
the racism doesn’t help. But of course, death of celebrity is not something that is just reserved for the D-Listers.
Everybody on these lists is subject to the attention economy and celebrity death based on time, trends, and the changing attitudes of the public—in an assorted amount of ways.
Unless, again, you are
beyond A-List. This means that without “on the ground” attention like film sets, paparazzi attention, regular interactions, celebrities are rendered “lost” or “forgotten”. Because their very self-worth is measured by attention and their livelihoods are quite literally funded and powered by it. Without it, who are they? How will they be able to make money? And what value do they bring to popular culture and the world-at-large in the absence of “on the ground” vehicles for attention?
So this, dear readers, is why you see celebrities like Gadot, Hudgens, and even Williams and others losing their fukking minds and willingly throwing themselves and their reputations into the fray and leaving their fates to the will and whims of an angry proletariat. The negative attention they receive for such things is technically not great (and sustained negative attention can definitely erode celebrity over time), but negative attention for them is certainly better than no attention. Because
no attention—not a pandemic—is the celebrity’s version of a global crisis. Which is why we have all these dikkheads singing, dancing, and clapping at us. But the interesting thing about this is that those celebrities who have retained their humanity recognize
both the importance and reverence that would be ascribed to them as well as the attention that would be given to them if they were to
act in this moment and, as previously stated,
open their fukking purses to assist in fulfilling the survival, security, and safety needs of the general public. Those who don’t recognize this are the ones who have attached their personalities to celebrity, rather than using it as a means for money and adoration.
And they are the same celebrities who will not survive such pandemics. Not COVID-19. And not the collapse of the attention economy either.