Celebrity pain is a game and gossip outlets are playing to win

In Hollywood, sensationalism sells.

Whether it's repulsive headlines made about Britney Spears crises or the immediate announcement of Kobe Bryant’s death without informing his family prior, disrespect isn't anything new in popular culture. Celebrities have long been treated as public property, with their personal lives broken down and blasted for mass consumption. Sensationalized "news" strips public figures of their humanity â€" all to feed our hunger for more drama and controversy.

Liam Payne’s untimely death in Argentina on Oct. 16 shattered fans in a way that no one could predict, yet TMZ wasted no time to release cropped photos of his lifeless body. Even though they eventually removed the images, Michael Babcock, executive producer of TMZ Sports, attempted to justify the decision by claiming that they were trying to identify Payne’s body through his tattoos before the police did.

It feels like déjà vu because it's hard to forget when OK! Magazine paid $500,000 for pictures of Michael Jackson being resuscitated by paramedics right before passing away in 2009. 

In all these cases, it becomes painfully clear: gossip sites’ primary motive aren't to inform but to exploit.

“Sometimes what is the truth is painful and difficult to see, and it’s important we show that… but in a case like this, the harm outstripped the value â€" the public interest value,” said Angela Caputo, assistant professor of journalism at LMU. “What does the public get from seeing someone dead in this scenario? I think that’s very questionable.”

We all know that TMZ is one of the least professional â€" and most unethical â€" news outlets out there, and it’s not surprising that they would stoop so low.

“I was walking into class when that [news of Payne] broke last week, and you can feel the reaction,” said Lauren Smart, assistant professor of journalism at LMU. “You can feel in human spaces the reaction to it and the emotion that it causes in people who care about these celebrities.”

My reaction wasn’t anything short of crazy either. Payne was someone I grew up watching and listening to, and One Direction was a huge part of my childhood. Like most of Generation Z, I spent years listening to their music, binging their videos and having a crush on every member of the band at some point. To see the conspiracies and rumors surrounding Payne’s death â€" someone only 31-years-old â€" almost felt surreal.

Journalism majors like myself are required to take courses such as "Introduction to Journalism" and “Critical and Ethical Issues of Journalism" at LMU, both of which heavily reference the Society of Professional Journalists (SPJ) Code of Ethics like a holy grail. We’re taught that our responsibility as journalists is to seek the truth and report it â€" but also minimize harm. TMZ â€" proclaimed professionals â€" unable to do what students can is just embarassing. Gossip sites thrive off one concept: the more outrageous or tragic the story, the more people consume it, all while caring very little for the dignity of those involved. Payne’s death, like many celebrity tragedies, is a pawn in this never-ending quest for more clicks, views â€" and ultimately more profit. Not even 24 hours later, the public was already quick to stir speculation about how and why the singer died.

This constant cycle of exploitation is exhausting, especially for the family, friends and fans who loved these people. More importantly, the media shows a lack of empathy for the children these celebrity deaths have impacted â€" in Payne’s case, his 7-year-old son Bear, who now has to grow up with his father’s death turned into a public spectacle. 

“Celebrities are human beings who are obviously going through really dark, tragic things that we have empathy for as well â€" or should have empathy for,” said Smart. “Their private life should be their private life, but I do think there’s a darkness to the way social media has invaded all of our private lives.”

Fans shouldn’t have to block paparazzi cameras with their hands to let Payne's grieving father visit the hotel where his son died. The mother of his child shouldn’t have to beg the public to give him the “little dignity he has left.”

Celebrities’ pain has become a cash prize for platforms that survive on struggle and scandal. These people aren’t dolls that entertain us or characters on a TV show â€" they deserve their humanity both in life and death.

How much of our empathy are we willing to sacrifice for gossip and stories? If that price is someone’s dignity â€" the media has already crossed the line.

This is the opinion of Melody Mulugeta (’26), a journalism major from San Ramon, Calif. Send comments and feedback to editor@theloyolan.com. Follow @LALoyolan on Instagram, and subscribe to our weekly newsletter.