What do we really expect from the people we idolise? And what happens when they stop playing along?

According to the latest headlines, a dara, a star in every sense, has let his glow dim, stepping out in a manner rather unbecoming of someone in his constellation. So we came up with a question: Why do we struggle when public figures slip? There’s something oddly uncomfortable about watching someone famous behave badly in public. Sometimes dangerously, even criminally, or just out of line. Maybe they’re drunk. Maybe they’re on something unmentionable. Maybe they’re doing something ridiculous on the street for a reason that feels a little too human for someone we’ve placed on a pedestal.

The footage spread quickly, stirring a mix of concern, criticism, memes, and uncomfortable laughter. For someone who’s built a career on being polished, likeable, and squeaky clean, this very public slip-up felt almost surreal–but it’s real.

But maybe that’s the problem.

The Terms of Idol Worship

Outrage, mockery, fan loyalty, moral commentary. It all comes flooding in. Not because what they did was particularly new or unique. But because they weren’t supposed to be that kind of person. We’ve built an unspoken contract with celebrities. Be talented, be flawless, be endlessly marketable. We don’t say it outright, but the terms are clear. Success comes with surveillance. And one public misstep can feel like a personal betrayal to those who idolise them.

The Unspoken Rules of Celebrity

Psychologists call this parasocial interaction, the one-sided relationships people form with public figures. Research from Horton and Wohl (1956) and later studies have shown that the more emotionally invested fans become, the more they feel entitled to dictate the behaviour of the person they admire. That illusion of intimacy turns public disappointment into something personal.

Thailand, in particular, holds a complicated relationship with fame. We like our stars polished, humble, and well-behaved. A single viral moment, especially one that breaks those expectations, can unravel years of carefully maintained image. But maybe that’s where the real issue lies. We want people in the public eye to feel relatable, but not too real. We want honesty, but only the kind that photographs well.

Thailand’s Quiet Expectations

A 2021 study in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships found that when celebrities act in ways inconsistent with their public image, it can trigger what researchers call expectancy violations. These moments don’t just surprise us, they threaten the control we think we have over our own moral compass.

Perhaps it’s worth acknowledging that public figures, like anyone else, are not immune to imperfection. Holding them to impossible standards can create a disconnect between image and reality. Because at the heart of it, fame is a performance. Life isn’t.

Rethinking the Idea of Perfection

But it does raise a question. Do we give our public figures any room to be human or are we only comfortable when they’re following a script?

Social researchers have long argued that in celebrity culture, the person and the persona often blur. Erving Goffman’s theory of self-presentation suggests that people perform different versions of themselves depending on the social setting. For celebrities, though, the stage never ends. Even their private moments are judged as if they were public acts.

What’s at stake here isn’t just an individual’s reputation, but the culture of image-making itself. The way celebrity is discussed in Thailand often overlooks the machinery behind the persona, focusing narrowly on talent while sidestepping the industry’s preference for perfection rather than authenticity. There remains a broader discomfort with reality and a continued tendency to reward performance over imperfection.

It is for this reason that Thais find it difficult to warm towards an idol that shows his human side. And in a society that places great value on image, and propriety, that break feels more like a rupture than a reveal. Perhaps the discomfort doesn’t lie in the act itself, but in the reminder that fame is not a shield against imperfection. And maybe it’s time we stopped expecting it to be.