The illusion of parasocial relationships

It is a strange thing to feel as though you know everything about someone who has never met you, stranger still when millions of people feel the same way. The phenomenon I am referring to is "parasocial relationship", a neat psychological phrase for the one-sided bonds people form with public figures. But it hardly feels like psychology when you are celebrating Taylor Swift's engagement as if she's someone you know.

In a similar vein, The Beatles were hounded by paparazzi all day, and Marilyn Monroe's face was sold like a brand logo – plastered on magazines and posters. But there was a barrier of distance. You had to buy the magazine, switch on the radio, or wait for the cinema screen to light up. Now, the smartphone in our hands makes the information accessible all the time. And it is normal that we form a bond with figures we look up to. However, we have to ask ourselves to what extent it should be accepted.

A pop star posts about her closet after her tour. Elsewhere, a beloved Hollywood actor livestreams from his kitchen in the middle of the night. The curtain never falls. You do not admire celebrities anymore; you "follow" them, which itself is a verb that suggests a certain type of stalking.

Read more

Why we find it difficult to accept love at times

Children are especially vulnerable because their first interactions with fame often happen online. And when they scroll further into adolescence, the emotional attachment deepens. It is not just limited to liking a video anymore; it evolves into idolising, obsessing, and spending money to keep the fantasy alive. It feels personal, but the relationship is not real.

Platforms like Cameo exist for this reason: pay a large sum and your favourite actor or reality star will record a birthday message, pretending for 30 seconds that you are genuinely special to them.

On platforms such as Patreon, TikTok, or OnlyFans, the entire economy thrives on the promise of closeness, marketed as exclusive access or one-on-one connection. Merch drops, VIP passes, subscription models: they are all built on the premise that the bond you think you have with a celebrity can be deepened, but only if you are willing to pay.

Another clever monetisation is album variants. Singers now release the same record multiple times, often at higher prices, with nothing changed but the photos. And thanks to obsessive fandom culture, these variants sell out every time.

The illusion hides the truth. No matter what their TikToks show, a celebrity's life is never like ours: it is full of publicists, management teams, and financial security. The gulf between fan and star is wider than ever, only now it is disguised by relatability. Fans think they are connecting across that gap, but in reality, they are consuming a packaged product marketed on the parasocial bond.

The influence does not stop at consumerism. When millions of people feel personally tied to a public figure, endorsements land differently. A product recommendation or political statement feels like advice from a friend. The danger is that fans, especially the younger demographic, absorb not only the content but also the ideologies attached to it.

Celebrities know this, and they use it — sometimes innocently, sometimes strategically.

For celebrities, this is an efficient business model. It requires no studio, no set, no middleman. Just a phone and the pretence of friendship. For fans, particularly young ones, it is a trap. They dedicate hours dissecting outfits, memorising interview lines, and watching the same music video over and over to feel closer to the celebrities.

What makes today's version more troubling is that the connection never switches off. A child can wake up at 3 AM and immediately be flooded with updates from influencers across the world. The intimacy is constant, the drip feed never-ending.

Parasocial relationships will not vanish. In fact, it is stitched into the fabric of the celebrity economy. The illusion works so well because it feels ordinary. That is the real trick of social media celebrity culture: convincing you that something hollow is instead full. We may all know, on some rational level, that the person on the screen has never thought about us. But knowing and feeling are different. And feeling, it seems, has become a business.

Tinath Zaeba is an optimistic daydreamer, a cat mom of 5 and a student of Economics at North South University. Get in touch via mailing to [email protected]