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Earlier this year, a popular X account ended up getting flamed across social media when they earnestly posted the now-deleted tweet: \u201cI think Taylor\u2019s now bigger than MJ ever was and I think all she\u2019s got left is The Beatles and that\u2019s getting pretty close to\u201d in reference to Taylor Swift<\/a> and Michael Jackson<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n In response, many were quick to point out that despite Taylor\u2019s astronomical mainstream success, she is nowhere near<\/i> the level of fame that was experienced by her industry counterparts from decades past. And this isn\u2019t a dunk on Taylor. The truth is, nobody will ever reach the same peaks of global hysteria that those stars did \u2014 not because today\u2019s artists aren\u2019t talented or ambitious enough, but because celebrity culture itself has fundamentally changed. Let me explain.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Prior to the social media boom of 2004\u20132010, we lived in a very clear monoculture, creating a world where most people shared the same cultural experiences, especially when it came to the music they listened to and the TV shows and movies they watched. Generally speaking, everybody watched the same movies because they were the ones showing in theaters, and streaming simply didn\u2019t exist. Everybody also watched the same TV shows because limited channels meant that viewership was less divided by choice.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n And this concept extended to music, too; when artists like the Beatles<\/a>, Michael Jackson, and Madonna<\/a> were at their peak, their dominance over pop culture was total<\/i> \u2014 and, frankly, unrepeatable.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n There were fewer entertainment options, so when a record dropped, everyone was listening; and when an artist appeared on television, everyone was watching. For example, the Beatles\u2019 appearance<\/a> on The Ed Sullivan Show<\/i> in 1964 reached over 73 million viewers, and Michael Jackson\u2019s Thriller<\/i> wasn\u2019t just a successful album; it was a global event that united people across countries, languages, and generations.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Meanwhile, Madonna\u2019s image, music videos, and controversies set the tone for an entire decade of pop culture conversation because there simply wasn\u2019t anybody else doing it like she did \u2014 at least not to mainstream culture’s knowledge.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Of course, this isn\u2019t to say there wasn\u2019t an alternative scene before the internet. People always found ways to find their little pockets of connection that fueled their own personal interests by going to indie cinemas to watch lesser-known films, going to local gigs to discover lesser-known musicians, and scouring record shops for music that they weren\u2019t hearing on the radio. But the key difference was that you had to actively seek those spaces out, there was no algorithm curating your taste or delivering a playlist designed just for you.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n And, most importantly, even if you were on the fringes of mainstream culture during this time, there was no real way of escaping the phenomenon of major artists. A less saturated market meant higher exposure for those who broke through \u2014 and that\u2019s why figures like MJ, Madonna, and the Beatles were able to reach levels of fame that are impossible now. This kind of collective experience simply can\u2019t happen in a post-social media era where everyone\u2019s algorithm is serving them a different \u201cmainstream,\u201d and this is the crux of why the world feels so different in 2025.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Nowadays, celebrity is a saturated market. And that\u2019s not necessarily a bad thing; in fact, it\u2019s kind of amazing! Everyone now has the freedom to curate their own personal pop culture experience that they enjoy, and if you don\u2019t want to engage with a particular artist, actor, or influencer, it\u2019s really easy for them to simply not exist in your world. With so much content available at all times, it\u2019s easier than ever to completely opt out of someone\u2019s work and still feel like you\u2019re tapped into the cultural conversation because individual subcultures are thriving and serving the community in ways that have never been reached before.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n But, at the same time, this accessibility has completely redefined the meaning of fame. Where once there were a handful of artists and actors that everyone from your 80-year-old grandmother to your 6-year-old brother had heard of, there are now countless people who are considered famous and can have millions of followers but exist entirely outside of even the most pop-culture-savvy person\u2019s radar. For example, just recently, I was left stunned to learn that a friend my own age genuinely had no idea that \u201cBad Blood\u201d was about Katy Perry<\/a>. A feud that felt like the defining pop culture moment of the 2010s to many simply doesn\u2019t exist to others; that is how siloed we\u2019ve become.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n And this fragmentation extends far beyond music. In the so-called Golden Age of Hollywood, there were clear, universal household names \u2014 Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts \u2014 figures who transcended their industry to become part of the collective conversation. Now, there are so many actors, creators, and personalities that who is considered \u201cfamous\u201d to you depends entirely on your feed. The actor you think is an A-lister might be utterly unknown to someone whose algorithm revolves around gaming, politics, or lifestyle content.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n
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