I teach women’s and gender studies at a Catholic university. This semester, my students introduced me to Chappell Roan, suggesting I would fall in love with her Madonna-mixed-with-Cyndi-Lauper vibes. I did. Within a few weeks, I have become an unabashed Chappell Roan fan. You might find me rocking out to “Femininomenon” on my way to work in the morning, or in the evening doing dishes to “Hot to Go!”
As a new fan, I have been following the controversy over Ms. Roan receiving flack for refusing to endorse Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris, even while explicitly—and I mean this in both senses of the word—saying she would be voting for her in a viral TikTok video. The artist suggested that although Ms. Harris is the lesser of two evils, she disagrees with what she sees as the Harris campaign’s “transphobic and genocidal positions.”
I am not suggesting in this essay that we take advice from a 26-year-old pop star about politics. I am suggesting that the treatment she received after releasing this video for not falling in lockstep with a political party is appalling—and that Catholics might take this moment to search their own recent political ecologies online.
It was not lost on me that the vitriol Ms. Roan experienced was not unlike those found across social media platforms to the pope’s comments several weeks ago on the United States election, when he stated that Donald Trump and Kamala Harris are “both against life,” and that Catholics should still vote and choose the “lesser evil.” It seemed most Catholics I came across in the comment sections (including more than 150 comments in the America article linked to above) were more interested in advocating for their political positions than in entertaining the idea that perhaps the leader of our church might have a point to make. Political decisions perhaps should not be easy for anyone in a country with a two-party system in which neither party aligns evenly with our faith’s doctrines.
Or, as Ms. Roan clarified when hounded by fans on TikTok, perhaps no weighty political decision should be 100 percent easy for anyone with “critical thinking skills” who might want to “ask questions.”
Like some of Ms. Roan’s fan base, many in our Catholic communities have formed relationships with Pope Francis that have similarities with what are called parasocial relationships. These are one-sided relationships where someone feels an emotional connection to a media figure but the figure is unaware of the fan’s existence. Such relationships often develop through television, social media or podcasts, where people may feel like they “know” a figure even though the interaction is entirely one-sided. While parasocial relationships can provide a sense of companionship, they are not true social interaction, because there is no direct, personal connection between the fan and the figure.
These relationships can quickly turn toxic—or uncharitable, as we Catholics might term it—when celebrities fail to meet our expectations. Especially online, where we know the celebrity will likely never respond, we tend to act crueler than we would in face-to-face interactions. We grow resentful when they don’t perfectly align with our beliefs or live up to the image we have created in our heads. When they deviate from what we expect, it feels like they are breaking an unspoken agreement.
In Chappell Roan’s case, her refusal to fully endorse a political candidate led to a backlash rooted in parasocial dynamics: Fans projected their ideals onto her and were outraged when she didn’t conform. Similarly, some Catholics do the same to Pope Francis, expecting him to reflect their personal or political convictions perfectly, forgetting that he is the head of a global church, not of a political party of any particular country.
It is also easy to forget Pope Francis is an 87-year-old man whose opinions we ought to weigh carefully, but still do not ultimately change doctrine. Perhaps when responding, we ought to act charitably, that is lovingly, toward him, recognizing his humanity first. Like him, we are representatives of our church, and this includes how we treat each other online. How we show love toward each other, and especially to the head of our church, matters. It reflects our values to the broader world.
We might ask ourselves: Have we responded any differently as Catholics in our media ecosystem to those who disagree with us politically? Do we mock each other and our “celebrities” like the pope? Can you tell we are Catholic not by our chosen party politics, but by how we treat those who are in the process of making difficult political determinations, just as many of us are this election cycle?
In an era of social media outrage, we might remember Jesus’ words in Luke 6:37: “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” If we allow ourselves as flawed humans in this world to wrestle with difficult choices, we should offer the same grace to others—even those in the spotlight.
As Chappell Roan might advise Catholics as we examine our own political discourse with celebrities like her and with each other online: “Good Luck, Babe.” Let us also hope she will not be able to end it with her famous refrain: “You know I hate to say, but, I told you so.”
