Why We Mourn Celebrity Deaths

As the news of Paul Walker’s tragic death emerged over the weekend via Twitter, Facebook posts, and the like, I noticed a few things.

1. The irony of questioning the veracity of the internet by seeking the “truth” on the internet.

Example: You’re waiting in the Starbucks drive-thru lane for your Pumpkin Spice Latte, idly scrolling through your news feed, when you see an “R.I.P. Paul Walker” post, to which you react by saying (either aloud, silently, or as a comment): “Paul Walker died?!!”, to which you react by googling “Paul Walker” to verify the truth of such a post.

2. People really love Paul Walker.

Example: Just scroll through any of your 10+ social media platforms.

(If you catch someone making any kind of Fast and Furious joke, pay attention to the ire of the masses at such a heinous act).

3. People’s outrage at the lack of attention paid to the death of the driver, Roger Rodas, Walker’s friend and business partner, who was also involved in the fatal accident.

Example: Just scroll through any of your 10+ social media platforms.

I won’t even attempt to remark on the first observation. I will leave that to scholarly anthropologists or the handful of genius 15 year-olds currently working on algorithms that will dominate our global communication systems in the next few years.

I am more fascinated by the latter two observations. Why are we so affected by the deaths of celebrities, people whom the majority of us have never met, let alone with whom we have developed any sort of substantial relationship?

In 1956, during the golden age of television, Donald Horton and Richard Wohl, two social scientists, developed the theory of “parasocial interaction.” According to Horton and Wahl, a parasocial interaction (PSI) reflects both a media and psychological phenomenon related to the relationship that is constructed between a media persona (celebrities) and a media user (us).

In a PSI, a connection is formed over time that resembles many social interactions. The catch in a PSI, however, is that the connection is one-sided. Studies find that even though the PSI is unidirectional, media users engage actively rather than passively in the relationships they form with celebrities.

Example: Asking my poster(s) of The Rock in my room (circa I refuse to admit when that happened) if they could smell what he himself was cooking, and The Rock poster(s) not answering me.

These relationships that we form with individuals in the spotlight have been conceptualized as being interpersonal, as friendships, and as intimate. In a media-driven PSI, we are looking for guidance, we see these people as our friends, as staples in our lives. We often imagine being part of a TV show or movie’s social world. We commonly demonstrate wanting to meet these celebrities.

Example: I want to be Jennifer Lawrence’s best friend. I really think we’d get along famously (figuratively and literally). I also want to be Katniss Everdeen’s best friend. She could teach me to hunt. I could teach her to loosen up a little. She can show me 100 ways to kill a man. I can show her how glitter nail polish can jazz up every day outfits.

The PSI theory was developed almost 60 years ago. Television had only been in existence for less than a few decades. Now think about how media and how coverage of media personas has evolved since then. Hundreds of cable channels, reality TV, sports, movies, YouTube, TMZ, 24-hour news channels, social media.

We are submerged in the lives of other people, particularly celebrities. These are individuals we spend countless hours watching, learning about, and paying hard-earned money to see. We talk about them with our friends as if they were part of our inner circle. We secretly desire to be part of their lavish and seemingly fabulous lifestyles. We get excited when they get married and start families. We are heartbroken when they get divorced or experience life’s difficulties. They are a constant in our lives whereas they are oblivious to our identities. We enter into this knowingly. We are cognizant of how celebrities are worshipped because we are the ones who kneel at the altar. We pray and give thanks. We buy magazines, follow their feeds, and watch.

So when one of these media personas dies, and tragically, the grief many of us feel is real. The relationship may have been one-sided, but that does not negate the existence of the relationship.

The first Fast and Furious movie was released in 2001. Twelve years ago. I remember watching that movie in the theatre and thinking it was awesome. I remember Paul Walker’s piercing blue eyes and the ultimate badassery of Michelle Rodriguez. I have watched many of the 387 ensuing movies, and loved them all, quality of plot be damned. Though most famous for that franchise, Walker has starred in various other films. Millions of people who grew up with him, including myself, are going to have a natural reaction to a familiar face, name, and character dying in a fiery car crash. It would make less sense if we didn’t.

Yes, the death of Walker’s friend, Rodas, is equally as tragic. He doesn’t get the attention, however, not because we are horribly heartless or because his death doesn’t matter in comparison to Walker’s, but because we did not have the opportunity to form that bond. Rodas left behind a family of his own: a wife and two young children. A successful financial planner, he loved racing and was involved in philanthropic efforts, raising money for widows and orphans in his native El Salvador. With Walker, he co-founded Reach Out Worldwide, an organization that works with first responders in the event of natural disasters. Walker and Rodas were leaving a charity event held by Reach Out when they crashed.

While we mourn for the men who lost their lives, and the families they left behind, we also grieve the severing of that one-sided relationship.

The intricacies of human interaction are complex, beautiful, and tragic things. I don’t believe we will ever let go of our parasocial interactions because they serve a purpose. And our culture saturates our lives with celebrities and every.little.thing.they.do.

I do believe, though, that we can become more competent in forming more two-sided relationships. More ways to encourage authentic communication between and among people as opposed to one-sided interactions.

No matter what relationships you have, remember that life is fleeting. Treasure those you love, and let them you know love them.

Just not in a restraining order-y kind of way.

May Paul Walker and Roger Rodas rest in love and light.