by Ryan Wong
Disclaimer: This article is in no way meant to criticize the members of aespa.
On October 26th, SM Entertainment, widely regarded as the most prestigious company within the Kpop industry, unveiled aespa: a four-member girl group set to debut on November 17th. As the agency’s first female act in six years and idol group in four, anticipation was rife; hardcore stans and casual listeners alike could not wait to see what SM, infamous for its experimental concepts and sounds, would bring to the table after the successes of groups like NCT and Red Velvet.
Much of this enthusiasm turned into confusion when a video uploaded on aespa’s official social media accounts showed member Karina interacting with an animated character referred to as æ-Karina, giving rise to speculation that the group would comprise of both real and virtual members. SM Entertainment’s founder Lee Soo-man explained in a press conference later that day that the upcoming quintet would have online counterparts, and would be the first step of the “SMCU”: the SM Culture Universe, which meant that future idol promotions under the agency would be linked musically and cinematically in a common narrative.
“This group [aespa] is what I’ve of as it projects a future world centered on celebrities and avatars, transcending boundaries between the real and virtual worlds.” — Lee Soo-man
The group’s name, combining the initials of Avatar and Experience to form the ‘ae’, as well as the word aspect, is meant to signify the merging of physical and digital—”meeting another self and experiencing the new world”, as later stated by an SM representative. True enough, subsequent teasers depicted the members interacting with their respective æ-versions.
Public reactions immediately following Lee’s announcement were largely apprehensive. Users of social media platforms such as Twitter were quick to voice their discomfort towards aespa’s concept while others, viewing the news in a humorous light, began to post and circulate memes. Nonetheless, it was universally agreed upon that this new ‘AI hybrid’ group was bizarre and unconventional to an extreme degree.
The Problem with aespa
I. Privacy
“Imagine an avatar of your favorite celebrity being created and being together with him/her, next to you. That avatar will be able to do things you cannot directly do with your favorite celebrity.” — Lee Soo-man
Possibly the largest red flag of SM Entertainment’s new venture is privacy—or rather, the lack of it. In addition to the statement above, its founder also mentioned that fans of the girl group will be able to, once promotions by the real-world members have ended, enjoy exclusively online activities in the meantime, courtesy of the virtual avatars. Normally this would not be an issue; plenty of South Korean idol agencies organize online video calls (as a substitute for face-to-face fan meetings during the COVID-19 pandemic) and create apps where fans can communicate with their favorite idols on a more ‘personal’ level.
However, with aespa, this parasocial interaction which the Kpop industry has built itself upon is taken above and beyond, effectively blurring the lines between fan, idol, and person. Why is this the case? Picture this scenario: a superfan is made delusional by the ingenuine messages from the group’s simulacrum, convinced that the real members feel the same way. The superfan then takes every opportunity to follow them around, harassing them for ‘not keeping their promise’ or begging them to hang out as friends would do.
In an industry where “sasaengs”—obsessed fans who stalk and invade the privacy of idols—are rampant, forming a group whose members have virtual counterparts to interact with fans in place of them is dangerous because the AI cannot express displeasure the way the living, breathing girls can. It isn’t their code. They are programmed to be polite and accommodating no matter the situation, and this further alienates the idols from the polished persona which fans grow to love, giving the fans themselves the impression that their favorite celebrities are just like the avatar on-screen: flawless. So when the glass shatters and the idol turns out to be just another human, outrage ensues and the fandom erupts into chaos.
II. The AI’s design
[Content Warning: body image issues]
Look at the first photo of this article and look back at this one. Do you see even a smidge of resemblance? Though the AI are meant to represent the members, they look nothing like them. Instead, they are animated supermodels with long legs, wide hips, and paper-thin waists. Not only does this perpetuate the vicious beauty standard within Kpop which has driven many to starve themselves and go under the knife, but it likely also takes a toll on the members of aespa themselves. Imagine having an avatar created especially to represent you, only for it to look like an entirely different person. No amount of exercise or dieting could make you look like them.
Fans of AR projects such as Riot Games’ virtual girl group K/DA will already be familiar with the presence of virtual humanoids in mainstream pop music, but this time, the characters are modeled off of real people. Except not at all. They are, by the conventional stereotypes of attractiveness, perfect.
K/DA itself is a product of League of Legends, a video game (amongst many others) known for its unrealistic portrayal and hypersexualization of women. This is a significant reason as to why many men today have equally-unrealistic expectations of “what they want in a girlfriend or wife”. And by introducing this into such a massive market as Kpop, where the target audience is exposed to new content on a daily basis, it further normalizes the belief that an hourglass body or long, flowy hair are the most desirable traits a woman should have.
The Bottom Line
In my opinion, the issue does not stem from aespa, but is instead amplified by the group’s controversial concept. Having virtual members is not a bad thing, but what makes it a cause for concern is how it will affect Kpop, already notorious for its toxic fan culture, objectification, and ruthless idol micromanaging.
aespa shines a light on some of the industry’s most prominent problems which are often swept under the rug or ignored by money-hungry executives, and so as the consumers, we must make a choice. Will we continue to chip into a broken system or demand change? At the same time, we must also hold ourselves accountable for any possessive or entitled beliefs we may have as fans. The finger of accusation should not only be pointed at the brains behind the group’s conception, but also towards the fans who view them as inanimate objects to be placed on pedestals and discarded without a moment’s hesitation. Now more than ever, we must remember that celebrities are regular people just like us, and should be treated as such. In his pursuit of innovation, Lee Soo-man has made this harder, but we must not let ourselves forget.
Only time will tell if the virtual ‘æspect’ of SM Entertainment’s new girl group is an innocuous stride towards a new era of music or a crossed line separating the art from the artist.