The smile that hurts: The dark sides of K-pop
- Travis Johnson
- Nov 13
- 4 min read
Millions around the world have been exposed to K-pop in some way, whether through a trending Tik Tok sound, a steamy scandal or one of the many brand collaborations produced by companies such as Dolce & Gabbana, Chanel or Gentle Monster.
The K-pop industry is similar to a perfectly golden apple with a beautiful lustrous exterior and a promising sweetness. However, once bitten, a rotten core releases a taste of bitterness unlike any apple before.
My love for K-pop began when I was 13 years old when groups like EXO, f(x), BigBang and Apink were at their height. I wrote fan fiction about Chanyeol and Baekhyun from EXO and published it on Wattpad and gained over 10,000 readers in 2013.
Back then, friends and I would gather on a virtual role-playing site called Habbo and discuss the latest gossip and happenings surrounding our favorite groups. K-pop was an outlet for us to escape the entrapment of our real lives by immersing ourselves in parasocial relationships with idols.
At 13 years old, my perception of the K-pop industry was shaded with naivety worn like rose-colored glasses. I believed the idols I wrote and dreamed about were happy and living very luxurious and fulfilling lives. Something I could only dream of acquiring myself.
Upon entering adulthood and educating myself about allegations of mistreatment, unethical contractual obligations and harmful beauty standards forced upon idols, it pushed me to look at the genre and culture I have loved for so long in a different way.
To understand K-pop scandals, we must first understand the reasons that most people fall in love with the industry in general. K-pop is not just a music genre; it is a global capitalistic machine that profits from aesthetics and fandom culture.
Psychological theories suggest that parasocial relationships are established to alleviate feelings of social isolation, and by cultivating these relationships we are able to consume media through a lens of escapism. Participatory Culture, coined by media scholar Henry Jenkins, theorizes that consumers are not just spectators but fully empowered contributors in the creation and distribution of media narratives.
Many labels would cater to this tactic by releasing behind the scenes footage of idols living a normal life and working hard to become the best versions of themselves in order to capitalize on human relatability by influencing fans to “root for their favorite,” similar to reality dating shows like Love Island.
Idols as young as 14 are signed to a label (examples include: YG, JYP, SM, etc.). They are eager and hungry for fame and stardom. Once signed, the training process begins and what is often not reported is how harshly trainees are treated.
Girls are often told to maintain a certain weight in order to appeal to the male gaze by starving themselves and working out to extreme limits, while boys are forced to work out to appeal to the female gaze.
There have been many instances of K-pop idols fainting on stage from not eating. The stakes are extremely high for idols to perform to their best ability, and oftentimes, they do not have time to eat or in some cases they choose not to because the label has a certain image to uphold.
According to a 2024 article in The Korea Times, solo artist HyunA had such an obsession with thinness that it led her to faint 12 times. She states, “I became obsessed with being skinny after grabbing people’s attention with my body figure.” She later adds that she once didn’t eat for an entire week, and she experienced hypotension with her blood pressure dropping to an abnormally low level.
As someone who has struggled with eating habits in the past, I was blind to the restrictive nature of trainee and idol life. During the days of “thinspo” on platforms like Tumblr, I believed being very thin was seen as beautiful to everyone, and it wasn’t a problem. This was only the beginning of my research into how dark the industry could really be.
Another incident in the K-pop world that shifted my perspective was the notorious Burning Sun case. Burning Sun was a nightclub in Seoul owned, in part, by BigBang K-pop idol Lee Seung-hyun otherwise known as Seungri. In 2019 Burning Sun was exposed in connection to a human trafficking ring created and funded by K-pop idols. Seungri was also charged with embezzlement, prostitution, attempt to destroy evidence and distribution of illegally-filmed content just to name a few.
BigBang’s G-Dragon and T.O.P were also accused of drug-related offenses not related to Seungri’s case but in cases of their own. Both were deemed innocent and acquitted of any charges. G-Dragon’s accusations were due, in part, to the 2023 investigation and suicide of Parasite actor Lee Sun-kyun.
East Asian media is very different from Western media whereas in East Asian media if an idol or celebrity poses wrong, wears a certain color, or says the wrong thing they risk a permanent reputational stain. It is unlike Western media in the sense that reputational stains can linger, and that person can still be just as successful as they were before. This reputational damage is what led to Lee Sun-kyun’s death.
I’m 25 now, and I still love K-pop just as much as I did when I was 13, but now, I am more mindful and aware of the content I choose to consume and the negative impacts that parasocial relationships can bring.
K-pop will continue to be a huge part of my life, but it is important to recognize that all industries have skeletons in their closets and that no one is perfect, regardless of how much they try to be.
It is also important to recognize the much-needed media reform in East Asian countries as suicide rates have risen astronomically in recent years due to public image concerns.
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