My ability to keep Justin Bieber out of sight and out of mind persisted into adulthood. When his 2020 album Changes came out, I caught glimpses of the “Yummy” video, and that was enough for me. When his next album, Justice, earned a slew of Grammy nominations, I broke my annual tradition of listening to all the Album of the Year nominees front to back because I simply had no interest in adding Bieber to my queue.
It seems that I have always drawn the line at the Canadian former teen idol. Although this pattern became intentional over time, it never took too much effort to pay little attention to his music, his relationships, or his scandals. Sure, someone like Bieber is hard to avoid entirely—I am, after all, writing about him now—but it turns out that one can remain pretty engaged with everything else in pop culture while training one’s algorithm to fully disengage with the work of one of its most ubiquitous figures.
Flash forward to today: after some quiet years, Bieber resurfaced with a few cringe-inducing public appearances and social media posts. Then came last week’s announcement that his seventh studio album, Swag, was coming out with next to no promotion, a headline-grabbing release strategy popularized by Beyoncé. Regardless of how I feel about Bieber, there is no denying his immense hold over pop culture since his breakout hit “One Time.” 16 years later, Bieber is back, and Swag is everywhere.
Still, Justin Bieber’s return to music has not inspired me to change my ways. Despite this, I wanted to decode why I have such a strong aversion to the once-innocent singer behind “Under the Mistletoe.” I, an obsessive pop culture enthusiast, have gone out of my way to avoid consuming the work of someone who almost always penetrates the zeitgeist in some way. It’s not like I wear my non-Belieber status as a badge of honor or consider it an important indicator of where my taste lies. Furthermore, I neither follow nor stan Selena Gomez or Hailey Bieber closely enough to have an informed opinion on any of that drama. So if it’s not about stubbornness or allegiances to other celebrities, what is it about this guy that makes me want to immediately tune out without fail?
If I had to summarize it in one word, I would say it’s his energy. Energy characterized by hypermasculine narcissism, an overall lack of growth, and an astounding level of privilege that has afforded him a seemingly endless string of second chances, nearly all of which he has fumbled.
Of course, I am sympathetic to the microscope under which Bieber was placed as a child pop star. He has endured many unfortunate experiences in public, and that must weigh on his psyche. While I won’t rehash the details of his most serious struggles, it’s hard to ignore his more recent behavior, specifically his questionable treatment of his wife on social media. It recalls other insensitive and degrading remarks he has made in the past and indicates a toxic masculinity that should not be excused or applauded. This behavior is less reminiscent of Britney Spears in the 2000s, a generous comparison that some fans have made, and more reminiscent of Kanye West in the 2010s. During that time, West’s so-called “genius” somehow made him largely immune to widespread scrutiny. While I don’t think too many people are throwing around the genius label when it comes to Justin Bieber, he has managed to achieve a similarly excusable and untouchable status.
Bieber’s entitlement and narrow-minded thinking were manifest even in the early days of his career. Remember when his notorious takeaway from the Anne Frank museum was that she would have been a “Belieber?” Sure, one might say he was young and naive at the time, but he was still 19 years old with a huge PR machine behind him. He was definitely old enough to know better. More importantly, however, Bieber has yet to show many signs of maturity in the years since. His persona, along with the occasional songs that I haven’t been able to avoid, suggests an inability on his part to address anything outside of the experience of being Justin Bieber.
This lack of evolution is precisely what makes Justin Bieber a mediocre pop star. He has coasted on the same culturally appropriative aesthetic for the past decade. Isn’t the modern pop star supposed to explore different sides of themselves from album to album, or “era” to “era?” Defenders might argue that this shouldn’t be a requirement for every pop star, but shouldn’t we at least critically engage with who is held to that difficult standard and who isn’t? To put it plainly, we hold female pop stars to a higher standard of excellence. If Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, or Beyoncé didn’t vary their personas in the same way that Justin Bieber hasn’t, there is no doubt in my mind that they would be subject to far more media scrutiny.
Justin Bieber’s unappealing energy is encompassed by this combination of hypermasculinity, immaturity, and entitlement. What’s fascinating is that after so many years in the spotlight, he seems to have no interest in distancing himself from this persona or improving upon it. If anything, he’s more locked into it than ever. As such, no matter how much the internet wants to tempt me to listen to this new album, I maintain my commitment to not engaging with this man until I sense some real evolution.
via @PopBase