Over the last decade, a fascinating phenomenon has emerged in our increasingly digital world: intense, one-sided relationships with online personalities. These “parasocial” relationships, a term meaning “almost social,” have become widespread. From fans expressing deep concern for celebrities like John Mulaney to K-pop fans passionately supporting their idols, and viewers spending hours watching Twitch streamers, the internet is rife with these connections. Even fitness instructors are marketed as virtual companions on our wellness journeys, blurring the lines between service providers and friends.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer's Surface Tension (1992) highlights the delicate balance of connection and distance in modern relationships.
Podcast hosts, in particular, often become the objects of these intense feelings of connection. Many observers have noted how podcasters seem to have stepped into the role of friends for many listeners. Personal anecdotes of listeners feeling a strong bond with podcasters are common, describing them as comforting presences, like reliable friends they could chat with if given the chance. While intellectually, we understand these online personalities are not our actual friends, the emotional resonance and the feeling of friendship persist.
To understand this widespread turn to online “friends,” we need to delve into the fundamental human need for friendship itself. At its core, friendship fulfills our innate desire to belong. Psychological research indicates that this need for belonging is satisfied through regular, predictable, and pleasant interactions with others. Historically, this sense of belonging was primarily found within the extended family. The evolution of modern friendship reflects how people have sought to fulfill this need outside of traditional family structures, turning to friends, communities, and, more recently, media personalities and online creators.
I know, of course, that the McElroy brothers are not my friends. But I listen to the show completely alone, through the privacy of my earbuds. I can fool myself into thinking they are talking directly to me
The history of friendship in the West reveals a fascinating adaptation to societal changes. Starting in the 14th century, events like the Great Famine and the Black Death significantly disrupted family structures. In response, people began forging strong bonds with individuals outside their families, based on shared interests and perspectives. The concept of “friend” gained prominence, and people started communicating intimately with friends through letters, sharing their daily lives and emotions. Rituals and institutions emerged to solidify these non-kin relationships, fostering a sense of community and mutual support. These “friends” provided crucial social and practical support, acting as a reliable network in times of need.
As society shifted from rural to urban in the 18th and 19th centuries, friendship evolved further. Urbanization and industrialization altered traditional social rhythms, leading to a need for new structures of friendship. Leisure activities moved to commercial spaces, and people bonded over shared consumption and interests like coffee houses and reading. Formal institutions like Friendly Societies and fraternal organizations arose, providing social connection and mutual aid in increasingly impersonal urban environments. These groups offered a sense of belonging and practical support in a rapidly changing world.
Post-World War II America saw another shift in belonging. The rise of consumerism and suburbanization led to increased individualism and a focus on private life. Traditional institutions of belonging, like churches and community groups, became less central for some. Mass media emerged as a new force, offering a sense of connection through consumer products and media personalities.
This era provided the backdrop for the initial study of parasocial interaction. In their seminal 1956 paper, social scientists Donald Horton and Richard Wohl identified “personality shows” on radio and TV. These shows were designed to create the illusion of a personal conversation with a friendly personality. Techniques like intimate camera angles, domestic settings, and direct address to the audience fostered a sense of closeness. Radio shows like Lonesome Gal exemplified this, featuring intimate monologues directed at a listener, creating a feeling of personal connection for isolated individuals. Horton and Wohl argued that these parasocial relationships provided a sense of belonging for those feeling marginalized in society.
The recent surge in parasocial relationships can be seen as a response to another contemporary “belongingness crisis.” While material goods have become more accessible, essential aspects of care – healthcare, education, housing – have become increasingly expensive. This economic pressure has further strained family structures. Millennials are having fewer children, and traditional friendship networks are challenged by longer work hours and increased mobility. Participation in community organizations has also declined, leading to a broader “friendship recession,” particularly among men. The isolation intensified by recent global events has only exacerbated this trend.
In each historical crisis of belonging, people have turned to available technologies for solutions. Today, that technology is the internet and mobile devices.
Modern parasocial media, like the personality programs of the past, rely on a carefully constructed performance of intimacy. Content creators present themselves as conversational, sharing personal details and vulnerabilities. The settings often mimic intimate spaces – bedrooms, home studios – creating an informal and seemingly authentic atmosphere. Bo Burnham’s Netflix special is a prime example, showcasing a lone figure in a messy home studio, seemingly confiding directly in the viewer. However, this “intimacy” is carefully curated, with professional lighting and framing, highlighting the performative nature of this connection.
Parasociality promises to satisfy a need that it can only make more acute
Unlike the mass media of the 1950s, today’s parasocial media is ubiquitous, accessible anytime and anywhere via smartphones and personal devices. Furthermore, online content can cater to increasingly niche interests. The vastness of the internet allows for highly specialized content, fostering a sense of discovering unique and personal connections. Finding a niche community or creator online can feel like uncovering a hidden part of oneself, amplified by the intimate nature of consuming this content on personal screens.
The perceived intimacy of modern media is paradoxical given its massive scalability. While a podcast might have millions of listeners, each individual often listens in private, creating a sense of one-on-one connection. This allows for the illusion that the content creator is speaking directly to you, despite addressing a vast audience of isolated individuals.
Contemporary parasocial media bridges the gap between intimacy and scale by blurring the lines between creator and consumer. It fosters the feeling that online personalities can “notice” and interact with individual fans, moving beyond passive consumption. Examples like Taylor Swift surprising fans at personal events exemplify this. Niche online communities often rely heavily on fan interaction to drive engagement, incorporating fan content directly into their platforms. This creates a sense of community and reciprocal engagement, blurring the traditional creator-consumer dynamic.
Platforms like Patreon, OnlyFans, and Twitch explicitly monetize these perceived intimate connections. Features like live chats, personalized shout-outs for donations, and tiered subscription models on Patreon further solidify the illusion of a personal relationship. Fans “support” creators financially, framed as an act of friendship, and creators reciprocate with personalized interactions, reinforcing the parasocial bond.
However, parasociality inherently promises a connection it cannot fully deliver. Fans often crave genuine reciprocity, wanting recognition and validation as individuals, not just as metrics. The very nature of internet scale makes this impossible for creators to achieve for every fan.
Yet, the interactive structure of modern parasocial media continually stages this unattainable mutual recognition. We see examples of creators engaging with individual fans, fueling the hope for personal connection and recognition.
Performers speak to us conversationally, they let us know about their personal lives, they reveal what are framed as their vulnerabilities
The constant cycle of evoked and then frustrated desire for recognition can lead to volatile fan behavior. When fans feel let down or ignored, the parasocial bond can quickly turn negative. Online fan communities can become breeding grounds for criticism and even hostility when perceived betrayals of this parasocial contract occur. Fans feel a sense of personal investment and betrayal when creators deviate from the perceived “friendship.”
While some critiques of parasocial media focus on blaming creators and platforms for exploiting vulnerable fans, this perspective overlooks the critical and creative engagement of fans themselves. Fan spaces can be genuine communities, fostering creativity and belonging. Fan art, fan fiction, and fan criticism are testaments to the active engagement within these communities. Furthermore, fan communities are often self-aware and critical of parasocial dynamics. The very term “parasociality” has gained traction within fandom spaces, used to analyze and critique fan-creator relationships and warn against the pitfalls of one-sided connections.
You support the creator because that’s what friends do, and the creator responds in the language of friendship
Despite the potential for community within fandoms, even these spaces can reflect the limitations of parasocial interaction. Online fan communities can appear vibrant and collaborative, but the reality is often skewed by platform algorithms that highlight the activity of a small, vocal minority. The majority of participants in online communities are often “lurkers,” passively consuming content without actively contributing. These lurkers are engaged in parasocial relationships within parasocial relationships, passively observing the active engagement of super-fans with creators and with each other.
The internet, once envisioned as a democratic space for peer-to-peer connection, often defaults to a more passive, parasocial mode of interaction. Social media platforms themselves can flatten even real-life friendships into a series of parasocial observations. We scroll through curated images of our friends’ lives, often feeling like observers rather than active participants.
Many of us have adopted the persona of the 1950s personality show host in our own online presence, curating content that projects an image of friendly interaction. We address our “audience” directly, employing gestures of friendship, cueing observers to feel a personal connection. However, this interaction is often directed at an idealized self-image or a fantasy of online persona, rather than genuine connection. Parasocial media, in itself, is not the core problem, but rather a symptom of a deeper societal hunger for belonging in a world where structures of genuine connection are increasingly strained. It represents our ongoing search for connection in a digital age, navigating the tempting but often unsatisfying world of one-sided interactions that promise friendship but rarely deliver true, reciprocal relationships.
