Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett—a leading columnist for The Guardian—recently lamented the perils of our celebrity culture. She feels like it takes a terrible toll on children, particularly those born into famous families. Her commentary on the topic has recently gone viral after the actor Brooklyn Peltz Beckham decried his family structure on social media. At the same time, he disclosed that the extreme public attention has led him to extensive psychological harm. As Cosslett warns, this generation of children from the 1990s and 2000s are the canaries in the coalmine of this mass experiment. Further on in her post, I think they’re showing the ugly side of fame.
One of the surprising stars of this year’s discourse has been Brooklyn Peltz Beckham. After all, he’s the son of famous footballer David Beckham and former Spice Girl Victoria Beckham. He has vocally opposed the system of a public family spectacle. He says this has taken a toll on his mental health. That’s because his remarks resonate in the hearts of all Americans. Fame’s terrible toll on child performers. Their research found that achieving fame at a young age can lead to enduring mental health issues.
Cosslett’s concerns extend beyond Brooklyn’s experiences. She points to Prince Harry as the archetype of the celebrity culture of that time period. His life is a testament to how media exposure can change the game. Prince Harry’s candid discussions about his struggles with mental health and the pressures of royal life echo Brooklyn’s sentiments about the complications arising from a high-profile upbringing.
This phenomenon of sharing one’s most personal and vulnerable scenes to a mass global audience is not new. For example, the face of a newborn baby was shown live around the world just 20 minutes after birth, which posed huge ethical issues. Cosslett goes straight to the heart of wrongdoing, never afraid to let her audience know when something is “fucked.” Most real estate experts agree with this view. They argue that commodifying intimate milestones violates the sacredness of family.
The real-life conflict between members of the Beckham family raises critical questions. More than anything else, it’s a dark satire of the way celebrity culture influences kids. Cosslett thinks this might start a new #MeToo movement for young celebs and influencers. These people must try to grow up while under the difficult circumstances of being scrutinized 24/7. The normalization of sharing critical life events through social media—like a child’s first smile or first step—often occurs in front of an audience of strangers, who may form parasocial relationships with these families.
These mediated moments do not merely constitute benign changes. More than anything, they reveal big disconnects in our society’s priorities between privacy and corporate interests and personal boundaries. Cosslett’s main point is that brand partnerships and influencer culture in general are fundamentally incompatible with the core human needs spelled out in Maslow’s hierarchy. Rather, they focus on visibility and marketability instead of emotional health.
Social media’s wide reach have allowed the Beckham family to amass hundreds of thousands of followers. Their rapid escalation into social media superstardom has had a profound impact on their public image. With this popularity comes the question of what this means for their kids. More young celebrities are taking to platforms like Instagram to vocalize their experiences on mental health and identity. That they would be so negatively impacted by this shift speaks volumes to the systemic issues associated with fame.