So the British music industry has decided to bestow its sacred blessing upon Le Sserafim for ‘overcoming internal conflict’. How noble. How British.
We love nothing more than a good story of gritty perseverance, preferably one that distracts us from the fact that the conflict itself was a symptom of a deeply toxic environment. It reminds me of the Victorian era when we praised factory workers for their ‘resilience’ while conveniently ignoring the twelve-hour shifts and child labour. The parallels are uncanny.
The group faced infighting, leaked tensions, and the usual soap opera trappings of the K-pop machine. But instead of questioning why young women are systematically overworked and pitted against each other in a corporate gladiator arena, we give them a pat on the back for not imploding. This is the same logic that calls a soldier brave for surviving a war that should never have been fought.
The industry’s obsession with ‘resilience’ is a convenient way to avoid confronting the rot at the core. If we celebrate the symptom, we never have to treat the disease. They are not ‘overcoming’.
They are enduring. There is a difference, and we crucify that difference on the altar of our own sentimentalism. I half expect the next headline to praise a mining canary for its ‘optimism’ in the face of toxic gas.
But go on, clap for them. Clap until your hands blister. The beat goes on.
