Thesis: Fame creates a world where some celebrities are, in the words of philosopher and poet Taylor Swift, “too big to hang out,” unable to participate in the lives of others without forcing those around them to relinquish their privacy and peace for the allure of proximity to power.
Over the past three decades, with technological and social advancements like the popularization of the digital camera in the late 1990s to the invention of Twitter in 2006, the notions of celebrity and fame have undergone a remarkable transformation, driven by the shift in what we consider to be “a reasonable expectation of privacy.” This shift has profound implications not only for those who actively seek the limelight but also for those who orbit their world—individuals whose only “offense” is sharing a space with the powerful and prestigious.
As playwright Jean-Paul Sartre aptly observes, both the celebrity and those around them exist in a paradoxical state: “half victims, half accomplices, like everyone else.”
The Britney Era
Though it exists in the not-so-distant past, fame in a world before iPhones and social media is hard for some to imagine given how our pop stars, actors, and reality TV participants are now served up on a never-ending scroll. Celebrities of the late 1900s were accustomed to an entirely different type of fame—one where fans and media were held at a distance. Album sales generated revenue in the music industry and tours typically occurred every two albums, allowing musicians to lead relatively normal lives in the off season (especially compared to today, where artists tour every album to compensate for declining sales replaced by streaming services and downloads). Movies were largely shown exclusively in theaters and TV episodes came out one at a time, captivating audiences for more than just a weekend binge. All of this meant that celebrities were not necessarily available for public viewing on a day-to-day basis. To be an entertainer was more of a job than a lifestyle. You could clock in, perform a show or act in a movie, and then go home. Of course the public was curious about the lives of the rich and famous but, for the most part, it was accepted that some things were private.
Beginning in the 1990s, this all changed. As Sarah Ditum writes in Toxic: Women, Fame, and the Noughties, Britney Spears would be “famous in a way no pop star before her had ever been.” The arrival of the internet, digital cameras, MTV, tabloids, and a more rigorous touring schedule propelled Spears to a household name, one who felt more attainable than those of pop stars past. You could learn her favorite color in the latest issue of Tiger Beat and see her shopping at the grocery store in tabloids. You knew (or thought you knew) the intimate details of her relationship with *NSYNC member Justin Timberlake and you definitely had opinions about it. Britney Spears may have been one of the first celebrities up for daily public consumption, but she wouldn’t be the last.
Regular access to celebrities changed expectations of privacy drastically. If someone wanted to be a singer, an actor, or some other type of public figure, the media and general public felt entitled to more and more details about their personal lives. Princess Diana’s every move was followed, reported on, and dissected, as were the lives of her definitively normal friends and family. Eighteen-year-old Vanessa Hudgens took sexually explicit photos in the privacy of her own home to send to her then boyfriend. When those photos leaked, gossip sites were more than happy to post them, never considering the ethics of posting a barely legal teenage girl’s nude photos for the world to see. In 2006, “Gawker Stalker,” a section on pop culture website Gawker that showcased where celebrities were (or weren’t) at any given time, launched. This led to the infamous “Bling Ring” scandal, where LA teens broke into the houses of young celebrities, often returning time and time again to steal designer clothing and accessories, not to sell but to wear themselves. Celebrities and their possessions felt up for grabs. Ditum sums this up succinctly in Toxic: “Attention was the vampire you invited in once and could never expel.”
The invention of Twitter, Instagram, and other social media platforms only exacerbated the feeling of attainability and accessibility, allowing users a glance into the day to day behind the scenes of celebrities and those that surround them. Suddenly, and without being able to pinpoint how, you know Taylor Swift’s best friend’s face, name, and even the intimate details of her life. You see the children of Kim Kardashian’s friends in the background of Instagram stories and you know the names of boy band members’ “normie” girlfriends. This invasion of privacy (whether enacted by the media, public or the celebrities themselves) has far reaching consequences for the people in their sphere.
The Best of Both Worlds?
Hannah Montana premiered on the Disney Channel in 2006, and centered around a teen girl living a double life. By day she’s Miley Stewart, your average 15 year old girl, dealing with the same problems every teenager faces: first crushes, high school, friendship, and fights with her family. By night however, she’s Hannah Montana, an international pop sensation adored by the public and traveling the world on tour. Miley’s double life allows her to experience “the best of both worlds” in that she’s able to both enjoy fame and privacy. In the early 2000s, this plot might have been at least semi-plausible (though would an entire town really keep this secret?), but two decades later, it’s beyond laughable. The idea that any celebrity could successfully keep up a persona so separate from their real identity doesn’t hold up in the age of Deux Moi and TikTok. Celebrities and their personal lives are up for consumption not only in tabloids and on TV, but on our phones and For You pages – and the people around them are not exempt.
In April 2009, after three extremely successful seasons on Disney Channel and a tour in which Miley Cyrus performed as both Miley and Hannah, Hannah Montana: the Movie premiered in theaters. A key moment in the film shows us Lilly Truscott, Miley’s best friend, and how her personal life is impacted by Miley/Hannah’s fame. Her sixteenth birthday party is a huge affair that involves renting out Santa Monica Pier, something Lilly and Miley had “talked about since we were kids.” Miley, (dressed as Hannah) is running late to the party, but a persistent reporter following her car forces her to show up to the party as Hannah, thereby taking all of the attention away from her best friend. Lilly, visibly upset, swears that Miley will never make this up to her and leaves the party, telling the reporter where Hannah is really from thus instigating the larger plot of the movie. Even in the script, Lilly’s pain is a side plot to Miley’s story, evidenced by her immediately forgiving Miley to join in on her scheming.
Life imitates art. In 2023, a similar scene erupted at the wedding of producer Jack Antonoff and actress Margaret Qualley. Hundreds of wedding crashers showed up to the couple’s New Jersey venue hoping to catch a glimpse of Antonoff’s most famous collaborator, Taylor Swift. In videos from the occasion fans can be heard chanting Swift’s name while paparazzi swarm, causing a scene that even the most chill of brides would surely find frustrating.
That the couple themselves are famous does not diminish the impact of Swift’s presence and in fact showcases how both fans and media feel entitled to more of Swift than they do of her peers. This is in part a prison of Swift’s own making as early on in her career she played an active role in the erosion of her own privacy, allowing fans to feel they knew her personally through gatherings at her home - a marketing tactic she’s likely come to regret.
The idea that Swift’s larger than life persona impacts her personal and romantic relationships is a familiar refrain across her discography, exemplified here on 2019’s The Archer:
Who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay? …. They see right through me, do you see right through me?
And 2020’s peace:
All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret…would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
And finally, on 2024’s But Daddy, I Love Him:
I'll tell you something right now, I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning. I'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing
This examination of the toll fame takes on those surrounding celebrities is also explored in the 2019 romance novel The Idea of You, where 39-year-old recent divorcee Solène begins a relationship with Hayes Campbell, the 19-year-old frontman of the biggest boy band in the world – and her 14-year-old daughter’s celebrity crush.
After months of seeing each other in private, Solène travels to France to see Hayes and experiences the immense lack of privacy that comes with the job. Hayes expresses frustration at how the band’s popularity has consumed his life:
“I'm a person. First and foremost. And I have feelings. And I know this career comes with a lot of baggage, but don't write me off just because I'm in a fucking band. It's what I do, it's not who I am. It doesn't - what is it you say?- it doesn't define me.”
While Hayes feels his fame and job don’t define him, it certainly has an impact on Solène and her family. When photos of them are leaked to the press, Solène’s daughter Isabelle is tormented by her classmates, and Solène herself grapples with the onset of harassment and death threats. Ultimately, she ends the relationship, prioritizing her daughter and their peace.
Across fiction and reality, those around fame are forced to be a side character in the main plot of the celebrity’s story.
Proximity to Power & the Cost
If being around fame is so dehumanizing and has such a profound impact on one’s life, why do those who surround fame stay?
For some, it’s not just a lifestyle, but a lifeline. Fame is a business and those at the top don’t get there without the work and sacrifices of those who serve them. The ecosystem of the entertainment industry binds people to fame in a way that makes it difficult to walk away – such is the predicament in Olivia Petter’s 2024 novel Gold Rush, which centers around a PR assistant whose life is irrevocably changed by a night with one of the biggest stars in the world. This glimpse into the world of fame underscores the reality that many behind-the-scenes players are just as impacted by it as celebrities themselves. Their careers are tethered to the whims of fame and stepping away often means sacrificing their work and livelihood.
For others, it’s about access. Fame can be as intoxicating as the access to money and a lifestyle you might never see otherwise. The allure of this is powerful, making the loss of autonomy seem like a small price to pay in exchange for a taste of the high life. A summer camp counselor turned nanny for one of the richest men in the world experiences this in Rachel Lyon’s novel Fruit of the Dead. While the lifestyle that comes with the proximity to power is exhilarating, protagonist Cory struggles with the cost.
And still others are making the best of the situation by using it to their advantage. Jack Schlossberg uses his recognition as a member of the Kennedy family to encourage young people to vote; similarly, in the novel Big Fan, a former boy band member works with a political consultant to use his influence for good (all while falling in love in the meantime, naturally). It’s undeniable that proximity to power is a compelling reason to surrender both peace and privacy. Yet, even when access is used for noble purposes, the price of fame remains.
Would It Be Enough If I Could Never Give You Peace?
In this modern age fame doesn't just ask for your talent or hard work; it demands your right to privacy, your relationships, and creeps into the most intimate corners of your life. Perhaps the most profound loss is that of peace, something that fame strips away not just from those who seek the spotlight but from anyone standing near it. The allure of proximity to power forces those in the orbit of fame to relinquish their own boundaries, becoming collateral damage in a system that prizes access above all else. This shift, fueled by technological advancements and the rise of social media, has blurred the lines between public and private, making everyone around a celebrity part of the spectacle.
As the culture surrounding fame evolves, so too do our societal norms around privacy, autonomy, and consent. If the most powerful and prestigious among us have no sanctuary from the gaze of the public, what hope is there for the ordinary? As those who surround fame wrestle with the costs of this exchange, it’s worth asking: will we continue to treat fame as a prize worth sacrificing everything for, or will we begin to redraw the boundaries between what the public is owed and what every individual deserves?
Study Questions
Some celebrities are better than others at maintaining their privacy, but it comes at the cost of the public being less invested. Has anyone found a happy medium? Is it possible to exist somewhere between daily GRWMs and only being seen on a promo tour once a year?
Imagine your best friend becomes an overnight sensation—paparazzi, red carpets, and all. How do you stay cool in the chaos? At what point do you start pulling back, protecting your own peace and privacy, or do you ride the wave all the way to the red carpet at the Met Gala?
For some, proximity to fame offers life-changing opportunities, and for others, it’s a trap. How does fame blur the line between empowerment and exploitation for those in supporting roles? Consider the role of publicists, assistants, and close friends.
I saw Kieran Culkin walking through Central Park today and I said to myself (and my husband agreed) “that man is the perfect amount of famous” he can live his life in public AND be on HBO. I don’t envy Taylor Swift one bit. That’s why I feel for Chappell Roan, like sure she wanted a bit of fame and success, but she didn’t want to be too big to hangout.