There was a time when the news reported events. Today, it often reports anticipation. As I write this, one of the leading stories in the world concerns the expected wedding of Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. News organizations are providing live updates. Reporters are counting delivery trucks, photographing barricades, speculating about guest lists, interviewing fans, and analyzing everything from catering menus to decorative tree branches being wheeled into the venue.
I wish the happy couple every happiness. By all accounts, they have also demonstrated remarkable generosity, donating millions of dollars to charitable organizations in conjunction with their wedding celebrations. My concern is not with them. It is with us. More specifically, it is with the extraordinary amount of time, effort and attention devoted to an event that, outside the lives of the bride and groom, changes very little.
Attention is one of life’s great currencies. Unlike money, each of us begins every day with precisely the same amount: twenty-four hours. Every minute we spend on one thing is a minute unavailable for something else. The question is not whether entertainment has value. Of course it does. Music, sport, movies and books enrich our lives. They inspire us, help us laugh, and provide a welcome escape from the pressures of everyday living. The question is one of proportion.
What does it say about us when we know more about the seating arrangements at a celebrity wedding than we do about the challenges facing our own communities? When we can identify the latest celebrity rumour, but cannot name the people who quietly volunteer at the local food bank, coach children’s sports, mentor young people, or visit seniors who rarely receive company?
The issue is not celebrity. It is attention. Somewhere along the way, we have become remarkably good at watching other people live their lives. We follow. We speculate. We comment. We share. But how often do we participate?
Imagine if even a small fraction of the energy devoted to celebrity culture were redirected toward something closer to home. Imagine if just ten percent of the hours spent following rumours, scrolling through updates and discussing strangers’ lives were invested instead in volunteering, mentoring, supporting local charities, reading to children, helping a neighbour, or simply becoming more engaged citizens. Would the world be different? I think it would.
The media is often criticized for covering stories such as these, but the media is responding to demand. If millions of people were not clicking, watching and sharing, there would be no economic incentive to provide around-the-clock coverage of celebrity weddings, fashion choices or social media posts.
In the end, responsibility rests with each of us. A society is revealed by what captures its attention. Previous generations celebrated explorers, inventors, teachers, scientists, artists, community leaders and public servants. Today, too often, we celebrate fame itself. Not necessarily achievement. Not necessarily contribution. Simply visibility. That should give us pause.
As a lawyer for more than four decades, I have had the privilege of meeting remarkable people. They are rarely the ones whose names appear in headlines. They are teachers who quietly changed the course of a child’s life. Volunteers who devoted thousands of hours to strengthening their communities. Parents who sacrificed for their children without expecting recognition. Neighbours who appeared without being asked when someone was facing illness, loss or hardship. They never trended on social media. They never attracted television cameras. Yet they made a profound difference in the lives of others. They remind me that significance and celebrity are not the same thing.
This is not an argument for abandoning entertainment or ignoring public figures. There is nothing wrong with admiring talented musicians, athletes or actors. They enrich our culture in many ways. But admiration should not become preoccupation. History is seldom changed by those who watched from the sidelines. It is changed by those who became involved.
Tomorrow morning, each of us will receive another deposit into our account of time and attention. We can spend it following the lives of people we will never meet, or we can invest it in our families, our neighbours, our communities and the causes that matter. The celebrities will do just fine without us. Our communities may not. In the end, we become what we pay attention to. If we want a better society, perhaps the first step is not asking more of others, but asking more of ourselves.