A Face Every Day, a New Controversy Every Day: Who Is Stealing Our Time?

From Parviz Parastui and Adel Ferdowsipour to Narges Farrokhi, Bijan Mortazavi, NIAC and a Reuters report: why does each new wave of controversy divert some of society’s attention from its main goal?

Why should one remark by an actor, presenter, singer, political activist or celebrity occupy the minds of thousands of Iranians for days? Why is the name of a famous figure sometimes shared more often than the names of those who have given their lives, political prisoners and the transition plan? Do we believe in our goal, or do we still need people’s approval to keep going?

In recent weeks, Persian-language spaces have been caught up in a succession of figures: Parviz Parastui’s angry Instagram story and his subsequent apology; the blocking of Football 360 and the reactions to Adel Ferdowsipour; an interview by Narges Farrokhi, Bijan Mortazavi’s wife, with Majid Vashghani and Bijan Mortazavi’s subsequent response; NIAC’s message about Prince Reza Pahlavi’s campaign; Reuters’ report on his political activities; and even the controversy over the accounts followed by the Prince’s official pages. These issues are not all the same, and some, such as restricting a media outlet, deserve scrutiny. The problem begins when scrutiny gives way to an exhausting battle over personalities.

Years ago, a friend and I studied and researched a shared goal. They played an effective role in helping me reach awareness, and after some time we arrived at the same conclusion. But when it came to putting our decision into practice, my friend announced that they would not continue. I thought for a few moments and said: “I respect your choice, but I will continue on the path that my own research and convictions have shown me to be right.” They laughed and replied: “It mattered to me that you understood you should not depend on me, or on anyone else; you should choose this path through your own judgement and decision.”

That sentence became a lasting lesson for me. Someone can show us a path and then step aside; but if we abandon the goal when they leave, we were never committed to the path in the first place—we were committed to the person.

Social psychology does not explain this behaviour solely as a lack of self-confidence. Human beings need belonging and approval. When self-efficacy is low, people feel that their own judgement is not enough and wait to see what their favourite actor, athlete or politician will say. As a result, they assess an idea not by its reasoning and consequences, but by the speaker’s fame.

Social media also intensifies this dependence. Research has shown that messages which provoke moral outrage and hostility towards an opposing group are shared more widely; likes and shares for expressions of anger also encourage users to repeat them. Other studies have found a link between using X and short-term increases in anger and polarisation. Controversy, then, is not merely a reflection of our feelings; it becomes a rewarded habit.

Research into the manipulation of public opinion in Persian-language spaces has also found a greater presence of inauthentic accounts in divisive political discussions. However, we should not claim without evidence that the government directly orchestrates every controversy. An artist may have expressed a personal opinion, or a media outlet may have faced genuine pressure. But the government benefits from the result: when, instead of focusing on repression, executions, corruption, political prisoners and plans for the future, society spends days fighting among itself over one person, the focus of accountability shifts from the government to an individual.

The cost of this behaviour is not just anger; it is time. We have no verified figure for the total number of posts in these waves across all platforms, so we should not present “several million posts” as an established fact. But we can estimate the cost hypothetically. If the total number of views, comments and shares were three million, and each reaction took only one minute, that would consume fifty thousand hours—more than two thousand days, or the equivalent of twenty-five working years of human attention. At an average of three minutes, the figure would rise to 150,000 hours, or seventy-five working years.

What will remain for Iran’s freedom after all that time? How many names of those who gave their lives will be kept alive? How many political prisoners will be brought to people’s attention? How many people will read the transition plan?

The solution is not complete silence. A false statement or a media attack may sometimes call for a response; but that response should be brief, evidence-based and proportionate. Then we must leave the sidelines and return to the main issue. We can disagree with Parviz Parastui, Narges Farrokhi, Majid Vashghani, NIAC or even a Reuters report without handing them a movement’s psychological and media resources for days.

In the end, every famous figure is a human being with the right to choose, and in a future system of government, one vote. Their fame does not amount to millions of votes. Even the role of a political leader must rest on people’s awareness and choice, not blind dependence.

To achieve victory, we need focus, awareness, media discipline and preparedness. People come, offer support, disagree or step aside; but their comings and goings must not change the goal. The greatest success in psychological warfare is not changing our beliefs; it is enough to take our time, break our concentration and remove our destination from view.

Let us not forget the goal.