Why Does the Government Fear Celebrities but Pay Less Attention to Scientists?

Introduction

In a society where independent institutions have been weakened or suppressed, public figures grow larger than their true stature. In such an atmosphere, an actor, athlete, singer or any well-known figure is more than a famous individual: they become a symbol, a platform and, sometimes, a substitute for absent institutions. This is why the government becomes more sensitive to them, while some members of the public expect them always to say exactly what they want to hear. The bitter contradiction begins here: the same society that praises a celebrity or athlete for standing firm, going to prison, facing exclusion or defending freedom may, after a single dissenting comment, suddenly deny their entire past—as though a person had no right to make mistakes, change, hesitate or even express an unpopular opinion.

The central question here is not merely about celebrities. The larger question is why our society depends so heavily on individuals, why the government fears the influence of public figures, and why, at the same time, so many intellectuals, researchers, thinkers and serious artists whose contribution to society’s progress is more lasting and constructive are pushed to the margins.

Three questions need to be clarified at the outset:

First, at the individual level, why do people become attached to public figures and expect more of them than their actual capacities warrant?

Second, why does the government worry more about a celebrity’s voice than about the voices of many people engaged in research and scholarship?

Third, why do some members of society, instead of accepting a plurality of voices and the right to disagree, call a person’s past, suffering and record into question after an unwelcome stance? And how does this behaviour relate to democracy?

The answer to the first question must be sought in individual psychology. Amid insecurity, frustration, distrust of institutions and political and social pressure, people look for a figure on whom they can project their hope, anger, protest or longing for liberation. The celebrity here is more than an individual: they are a screen on which society projects its own image. People do not always seek specialist knowledge from them. Sometimes they simply want to see someone who has said what they themselves could not say. This need has emotional roots, rather than necessarily rational ones. That is why attachment to public figures is often unstable and driven by emotion. The same people who elevate someone today may bring them down tomorrow over a single disagreement. Their relationship with the individual is not institutional or rational: it is emotional and fragile.

But this is not simply a matter of individual psychology. At the social level, the problem runs deeper. In many areas, we remain a society dependent on individuals. Rather than relying on a party, association, free media, university, trade union or collective work, we fix our gaze on a public figure. Instead of building mechanisms, we seek a saviour, a champion, a popular personality or an influential individual. This pattern is visible not only in politics, but also in management, culture, art and even our everyday relationships. In these circumstances, celebrities are less a product of their personal abilities than of society’s structural weaknesses. A society without institutions has little choice but to produce prominent personalities. Where collective work has not taken root, it is natural for the burden of expectations to fall on a few famous individuals.

This is also where the government’s sensitivity begins to make sense. Authoritarian governments have always feared an “immediate effect” more than a “profound effect”. A scientist, researcher, sociologist, writer or serious artist may have a much greater long-term influence on public understanding and social progress, but their impact develops slowly, in layers and over time. By contrast, a celebrity can generate a wave of emotion and widespread solidarity through a single post, story, short sentence or even a meaningful silence. For the government, the greater danger is not always a sound idea: it is a voice that spreads faster and attracts more attention. That is why the government’s treatment of celebrities is often harsher and more agitated.

Nevertheless, the contradiction does not lie with the government alone. Some members of society also reveal an immature understanding of freedom and democracy in practice. Someone who has gone to prison or paid a price for defending freedom, individual rights or resistance to repression may suddenly find their entire past called into question if they later express an opinion that displeases a particular group. This behaviour is no sign of democracy: on the contrary, it reveals the weakness of democratic culture. Democracy means the right to hold a dissenting opinion, even when we dislike it. It means refusing to reduce a human being to a single sentence. It means distinguishing criticism of a position from the destruction of a person’s reputation. It means recognising that freedom is not reserved for those who think as we do. If we want freedom only for people who speak as we wish, then what we want is not freedom: it is obedience.

A brief comparison with free societies is also needed here. Celebrities are influential in the free world too, sometimes excessively so. The difference is that in those societies a celebrity is one voice among many, rather than the sum of all voices. Universities, independent media, parties, civil society institutions, researchers and intellectuals also carry weight. If an actor or athlete takes a position, it provokes a reaction, but the entire public sphere is not reduced to that individual. More importantly, the principle of disagreement is more widely accepted in many such societies. Severe criticism exists, but the wholesale destruction of a person’s character, denial of their entire past or expectation that every public figure must always align with one camp is less likely to become the norm. There, institutions stand taller and personalities become a little smaller. In our society the reverse is true: because institutions have been diminished, personalities appear disproportionately large.

This argument is certainly not an unconditional celebration of celebrities. Fame does not confer expertise. Popularity does not produce political wisdom. Visibility cannot replace thought. Like anyone else, a celebrity may be superficial, emotional, careless or even narcissistic. Criticism is necessary. But there is a great difference between clear criticism and destroying a person. The society that turns a celebrity into an idol is the same society that smashes its idol a moment later. Both behaviours have the same root: an inability to adopt a balanced, mature outlook grounded in institutions.

The neglect of scientists, researchers and serious artists arises from the same malaise. Scientific and intellectual work is usually quiet, difficult, unobtrusive and sustained over time. It neither provides instant fuel for collective excitement nor always fits into simple media formats. The government, for its part, is not particularly pleased by independent science and art, because they raise questions, bring depth and lead people from momentary reactions towards structural understanding. The result is that someone who has spent years advancing knowledge, art or social understanding receives less attention, while a famous figure gains a larger platform with a few sentences. This is neither entirely the public figure’s fault nor solely the public’s: it is the structural consequence of a society with weak institutions and heightened emotions.

What is the rational way to weaken this cycle? First, we must accept that no individual, however popular or courageous, can replace an institution. Free media, universities, professional associations, civil society organisations and collective work must carry greater weight. Second, we must distinguish criticism from exclusion. Disagreeing with an opinion does not authorise us to destroy a person’s entire past. Third, we must not understand freedom of expression in a one-sided way. It is not only for popular opinions: its real test is our tolerance of unwelcome ones. Fourth, intellectuals and researchers must be brought in from the margins, and society reminded of the value of sustained, quiet work. Fifth, we must move away from idol-making and the search for saviours. A mature society indulges neither in excessive praise nor in absolute rejection.

If we want to reduce these behaviours, several principles must be observed: respect for the right of individual choice, acceptance of a plurality of voices, separation of a person’s position from their character, avoidance of hasty judgement, and reliance on institutions rather than individuals. As long as society is in love with personalities instead of processes, the government will fear those personalities, the public will demand miracles of them, and the slightest disagreement will lead that same public to set them ablaze. This cycle must be broken.

Democracy begins precisely here: with the simple yet difficult understanding that people have the right to hold opinions, even when those opinions do not suit us. A society that has not learnt this principle can neither understand celebrities properly, nor value scientists appropriately, nor grasp freedom itself.