K-Pop Observations Part II: Making Mortals Gods

One of my favourite Bible verses is Matthew 12:34 which says, “You brood of vipers! How can you speak good when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” I like this verse not only because it shows Jesus sassily calling out hypocrisy, but also because of the ginormous truth it declares: words are at the center of everything—words form thoughts, thoughts form the basis of what we consider to be important, what we consider important we hold in our hearts, and what we hold in our hearts, whether good or bad, eventually comes out in what we say and do. Words start like little seeds in the heart; and, when they take root, they form the basis of every thought, every emotion, every action, and every interaction we have.

Growing up, I was always told “it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.” To a degree, that is completely true; however, the tone, the pitch, the speed, and the presented body language do not magically change the words, or their true meaning. There is a lot to be considered in the nuance of language and communication—perception and intention, and their relationship to words, are very interesting and powerful concepts. Words have specific meanings, undertones, and influences on individuals; and, as such, they need to be chosen carefully.

Subconsciously or consciously, the words we choose influence our thoughts and actions—the words we use, no matter how small or unimportant, influence individuals in larger and important ways.

I think problems with the industry, and with what fans perpetuate and engage in, can be traced to labelling singers as “idols”.

I’m sure in the Korean entertainment industry “idol” is synonymous with “hero”; however, even if that’s the case, I think using the term “idol” instead of “hero” is very interesting.

Webster’s dictionary defines “idol” as “an object of extreme devotion”, “a representation or symbol of an object of worship”, “a false conception”, and “a form or substance visible but without substance”. It defines “hero” as “a person admired for achievements and noble qualities”; interestingly, it also defines “hero” as “an object of extreme admiration and devotion: idol”. It seems the dictionary is saying that you can’t have a hero without it eventually becoming an idol.

So, what exactly is an “idol”? It’s a religious symbol. It’s a man made product designed to be worshipped. It’s something bought and sold and possessed. It’s a physical representation of power and unattainable perfection. It’s something we set on a pedestal. It’s something we give something to and expect everything from.

Nazia Ayubi said, “Putting people on pedestals[,] it is an oppression that we overlook. This position limits the scope of human sensitivity, reaction, and desires. The admiration is so unconventional that is absorbs human aspirations and requires more compromises and sacrifices. . . .”

I think that beautifully sums up the problem with overzealous fans in the Korean entertainment industry. By stripping away the humanity and individuality of these singers, the reality of who these people are and what they want for themselves gets replaced with unreasonable expectations and unrealistic standards. Starting from a young age, these individuals aren’t seen as autonomous individuals with unique goals, dreams, desires, wants, and needs—they are a commodity, an object to be possessed, traded, controlled, and owned (not just by the industry, but also by overzealous fans).

When singers become nothing more than objects, when their individuality and humanity is stripped away, when they no longer have the freedom to be themselves, it becomes easy to dress them up in a false reality, in unattainable perfection, and in private fantasy. It’s easy to turn these young people, who are trying to achieve their dreams, who are working tirelessly day in and day out, who are doing multiple projects at once, who perhaps haven’t had proper socialization or learned appropriate self-care strategies, who are perhaps lonely and looking for belonging and identity outside of their careers, who perhaps have low self-esteem and are looking for approval, and who perhaps are living in an emotionally and mentally and physically draining and toxic environment, into something they’re not and truly can’t be.

Something I’ve noticed fans, particularly young female fans, do is attach or project ideas of what’s subjectively attractive, desirable, and preferred in romantic partners to male singers. What is attractive in a male/masculine personality or what is attractive sexually will be assigned to male singers. If a man doesn’t fit the definition of “ideal romantic partner” then his masculinity, capabilities, sexuality, personality, and morals are put into question. Similarly, if a woman doesn’t fit traditional or societal standards of beauty—if she isn’t a certain weight or a certain height, or wear a certain size, or wears revealing clothing or wears more “masculine” clothing, or has tattoos, or if she’s louder than expected—then her femininity, sexuality, morals, and professionalism is questioned and ridiculed.

When singers, male or female, deviate from the path fans decide is acceptable or palatable, they become the object of disdain, hatred, ridicule, and abuse. When singers dare to live their lives, to live according to their own morals and values, to speak or dress the way they want, to simply be happy and healthy, they become the object of gross and vicious personal and professional destruction and sabotage.

I think sometimes we forget how young some of these singers are when they start out. Some start in the entertainment industry as young as 6 years old (perhaps even younger). Some come from other countries as a teenager. Some don’t speak Korean and aren’t familiar with the culture. When you take children away from their security net, away from their families and friends and homes, and place them in a high stress environment where they don’t know anyone, possibly don’t speak the language or know the culture, have extreme physical and professional expectations, and perhaps don’t have a lot of emotional or mental support, there is going to be some trauma, there’s going to be some internal and external conflict. When you put children in high stress situations that have a high degree of uncertainty, that give young people a large amount of responsibility, and that are hard on them mentally, physically, emotionally, socially, and spiritually—when you put them in adult situations they aren’t developmentally, emotionally, mentally, and sometimes even physically ready for—there is going to be some internal and external confusion and conflict. Adding that trauma, confusion, and conflict from the professional environment to the abuse, hatred, and drama from fans can have serious, and deadly, consequences.

What is the difference between an idol and a hero? Simply, and traditionally, an idol is something we worship, and a hero is someone we look up to. Calling someone an “idol” sounds like you’re attaching a high degree of admiration or respect to that person; however, it is the furthest thing from the truth. Personally, I think labelling someone as an “idol” sets that person up for failure. Labelling someone an “idol” removes their humanity and their individuality—it forces them on a pedestal, it forces them to be a beacon of physical, professional, and personal perfection. The second half of the Nazia Ayubi quote I mentioned previously is probably my favourite part of the quote: “The purest form of love is the love itself. Without boundaries, positions or any recognized relationship. Every individual…should be loved for their…individuality. To understand the depth of feelings, and freedom to be vulnerable without fear of being judged are the two inseparable parts of love.”

The label “idol” creates mental and emotional bondage—it doesn’t allow for complete freedom of self. Loving someone without boundaries or pre-requisites doesn’t mean not setting up healthy boundaries and expectations. What it means is: I have opinions and you have opinions—and, we are able to respect each other; I have beliefs and you have beliefs—and, we are able to understand each other; I have hopes, dreams, and needs and you have hopes, dreams, and needs—and, we are able to get along, support, and encourage each other despite those differences. That type of love and understanding doesn’t completely exist when you label people “idols”, in addition to treating them as one. There is no freedom or individuality or, most importantly, humanity in the concept of “idol”. Without respecting, understanding, and expecting human individuality, struggles, beliefs, dreams, needs, and appropriate boundaries, there can be no love, growth, or complete health.

I think it’s important to keep something in mind: when you make mortals gods, you’re going to be disappointed every time. When you imprison the human spirit, you only have a hostage.

Just a thought….