If you follow K-pop, you have probably heard a piece of horrifying news recently. On Aug. 28, SM Entertainment announced that K-pop group Neo Culture Technology (NCT) member Moon Tae-il would be leaving the group due to sexual assault charges. This news came as a shock to many, especially NCT fans who had known Taeil from his acclaimed introverted and gentle internet personality.

During the height of my K-pop phase in 2020, NCT was actually my favorite group, specifically WayV, the Chinese subunit of NCT. Back then, I wouldn’t have called myself an NCTzen (NCT’s fandom name), but I was definitely more than a casual listener. Beyond listening to their music and enjoying their music videos, I would follow their news and occasionally watch their variety shows. However, over the years, my interest in K-pop shifted as I grew to better understand the industry.

The K-pop industry is toxic. Besides its issue with debuting minors, perpetrating unhealthy beauty standards and companies’ mistreatment of groups, there lies a fundamental problem with its marketing—and it first begins with what the industry calls its stars. The term “idol” instills an already given idea that these are people that can and should be “idolized,” when in reality this isn’t true. Even before Taeil, there have been a decent number of famous K-pop idols who have been exposed for bad behavior and not being as they are seemingly portrayed in the media.

The K-pop industry relies on creating fake personas for their artists. Artists treat their fans as if they are their sole priority, almost as if fans are their significant other. In fact, dating has become a taboo for many K-pop artists due to these personas. Many artists will respond to questions about their ideal type or current partner with their fandom.

Back in 2022, a popular K-pop trainee was embroiled in a controversy after stating, “I don’t think idols should be dating because … even though it’s not like an actual relationship, you have a connection with the fans, and it’s literally like you’re kind of betraying that and going behind their back.” Later he retracted his statement and apologized: “It was just a bad opinion … You learn certain things when you enter this industry, and you’re told certain things, and I kind of let that project onto other people.”

This example reinforces that the industry has made it a standard practice to create these personas and fuel the idea that fans are an idol’s one and only. A decent portion of the K-pop industry’s revenue is generated off of the creation of these “idol” personas and parasocial relationships. Making fans feel personally connected to these K-pop artists by using charismatic personas is a textbook pathos-oriented marketing strategy. This then leads to fans buying fandom membership subscriptions and merchandise.

To take it even further, fans can purchase subscriptions to apps such as bubble where artists will send messages and photos to them as if they were receiving a DM. Unlike most western artists, fans are also given the opportunity to meet their favorite artists, making them seem as if they are within reach instead of a removed celebrity. These fan meets are often bought through a lottery system, resulting in many bulk buying a group’s album. This is actually banned in the U.S. as it would be considered a lottery.

This strategy does not only harm fans, but it also harms the artists. The K-pop industry has even created the term “sasaeng” to refer to fans who go to extreme lengths to intrude into celebrities’ lives to the point of stalking. These sasaengs have been known to harass K-pop artists through calls, follow them onto flights and even break into hotel rooms.

This issue, however, is not just prevalent in the K-pop industry. It is also very common in other East Asian entertainment industries and to a certain degree, it is also seen in the Western celebrity industry. Another main example is the Chinese drama industry. There are many famous Chinese actors and actresses who also create similar parasocial relationship personas. They often post on Weibo, China’s equivalent of Instagram, where they post insight into their “daily lives.”

However, the situation with Taeil is a wake-up call for the K-pop industry. Celebrities create online personas, and you truly don’t know—and will probably never truly know—who they are as a person. The industry should focus less on creating “idols” and more on creating artists.