2025 was the year we grew tired of celebrity for celebrity’s sake

When Katy Perry and five other women were launched into space in Jeff Bezos’s Blue Origin rocket, no doubt they expected to be celebrated as trailblazers. Cast your mind back to April, and the event was getting wall-to-wall news coverage. The crew, also including Bezos’s then-fiancee Lauren Sánchez and CBS presenter Gayle King, were in space for about 11 minutes, during which Perry sang a rendition of Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World and revealed the setlist for her Lifetimes tour. On their return, the pop star kissed the ground and showed a daisy to the camera – a tribute to her daughter, Daisy.

Well, talk about crashing back down to earth. Instead of being hailed as a giant leap for 21st-century feminism, the voyage turned into a colossal PR failure. It was ridiculed for being tone-deaf, an out-of-touch luxury ride for the super-rich during a time of economic hardship. There were so many mocking memes and hot takes that Perry later admitted feeling “battered and bruised” at being turned into a “human piñata”. “I take it with grace and send them love,” she said, “cause I know so many people are hurting in so many ways and the internet is very much so a dumping ground for the unhinged and unhealed.”

But the Blue Origin backlash reflected a broader cultural shift. As the now-viral refrain from Kourtney Kardashian goes, “Kim, there’s people that are dying.” The public’s tolerance for the promotion of celebrity as an end in itself is disappearing fast. In a world beset by economic uncertainty, political upheaval, wars and environmental breakdown, is it any surprise we increasingly want to see those with big platforms use them for something more than self-promotion?

Of course, Jeff Bezos’s Venice wedding this summer, estimated to