Activism or aesthetic? Celebrity power, performance, and silence

Is activism a trend? And are celebrities simply following it, or do they genuinely care about the causes they claim to support? Celebrity activism is everywhere, from red-carpet advocacy and viral fundraisers to Instagram posts responding to humanitarian crises. Yet while much of the academic debate has focused on celebrities from the Global North intervening in issues in the Global South, far less attention has been paid to what happens when we flip the lens.

In this interview, Duaa Abdulal, Co-Chair of the Anti-Racism Network, and Deborah Adesina, a researcher and narratives architect specializing in the politics of representation, reflect on why celebrity activism must be understood across different geographies, cultures, and power relations and why visibility, silence, and performance matter just as much as intention.

Duaa: What first got you interested in looking at celebrity activism through a global north/global south lens?

Deborah: My interest really began during my Master’s degree in Media and International Development. That was my first formal exposure to development as an academic field, and I use the word exposure carefully. There is, of course, the idea of “experiencing” development from a distance, but there is also engagement with the academic debates around development, representation, and power.

During that period, I became particularly interested in the controversies surrounding celebrity humanitarianism. Studying media and international development was my entry point, and later I worked on a research project called Charity Advertising. As part of that project, we analysed over 1,000 images from 37 international NGOs, looking at how global poverty is represented, who is shown, how they are framed, and what narratives are reproduced.

Our first study, published in 2024, examined how UK charities represented global poverty in newspapers. One of the key findings, was the reliance on Global North celebrities (“considering recent trends in celebrity humanitarianism and the use of celebrity ambassadors, it is surprising that there are no portrayals of such from the majority world”). We noted this as a missed opportunity. If organisations are not collaborating with celebrities from the Global South, are we implicitly suggesting that celebrity and stardom are monopolies of the West? That question stayed with me.

It pushed me to think more deeply about celebrity involvement in humanitarianism and about distance - geographic, cultural, and symbolic. Many of the ethical questions raised about celebrity humanitarianism in the Global North, questions about effectiveness, representation, and power, might play out very differently in other contexts. What happens if we reverse the flow? What if we look at South–South interventions, or Global South celebrities operating within the Global North?

When I began thinking about a PhD, it was casually suggested that I look into celebrity studies and humanitarianism, perhaps through the lens of diaspora. That became my initial starting point: exploring how Global South celebrities based in the Global North engage in humanitarian work, and how they negotiate insider/outsider dynamics.

For example, how might a Nigerian celebrity based in the UK frame their activism? Do the standard critiques of Western celebrity humanitarianism apply in that context? Those questions multiplied very quickly. And honestly, since starting the PhD, I’ve found I have far more questions than answers, but that’s what makes it such a fascinating area to study.

Duaa: Are there any particular celebrities you’re looking into?

Deborah: Before focusing on specific individuals, I’ve been trying to understand who is actually doing what in this space and that immediately raises the question of how we define a “celebrity”.

Our dominant definitions are still very Western, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but it does mean we may be missing important forms of influence elsewhere. Especially now, with content creators and micro-influencers, the boundaries of celebrity are increasingly blurred. Alongside that, I’m also interrogating what we mean by humanitarianism and what falls outside that definition.

Duaa: What stood out to you most when comparing different regions?

Deborah: One of the first things I noticed, particularly when looking at Nigeria, was how little visible information there is about celebrity social interventions. This immediately raised questions about visibility.

A major critique of celebrity humanitarianism in Western contexts is that it is overly performative, more about “looking good” than “doing good”. But in Nigeria, many celebrity interventions appear strikingly invisible. That complicates the critique. If the work isn’t publicly visible, then what motivates it? Why not publicise it, especially if visibility brings popularity?

This invisibility led me to ask whether different logics are at play. Is it religious, the idea of giving in secret? Is it fear of backlash? Public identification with causes does not always benefit celebrities, especially in politically sensitive contexts. In some countries, speaking out can damage a celebrity’s reputation rather than enhance it.

I became interested in the silence itself. Silence can mask important dynamics and deserves interrogation. A simple online search might suggest that Nigerian celebrities are not involved in social causes..but they are. The question is why that involvement is so muted.

I’m also interested in how concepts like white saviourism translate, or fail to translate, outside Global North frameworks. If saviourism is fundamentally about power, then does it disappear when Global South celebrities intervene in Global South contexts? Or does it simply take a different form? Can we talk about saviourism beyond race, as a structural dynamic tied to class, privilege, and hierarchy?

In Nigeria, there is often a social expectation that those who have wealth or status should “give back”. Humanitarianism can be framed less as exceptional goodness and more as duty. That shifts how interventions are perceived and judged.

Duaa: When celebrities get involved in activism, what usually drives them?

Deborah: I don’t think there is a single motivation. It’s almost always a complex mix.

A question I often return to is: why are we so suspicious of celebrity charity, when we’re not suspicious of ordinary people doing the same things? A celebrity can donate money or run a fundraiser just like anyone else, yet their actions are scrutinised far more closely.

Part of this is risk. In highly politicised contexts, Gaza, Sudan, for example, speaking out is not safe or neutral. When celebrities do so, it demands closer attention to motivation. But we also need to recognise that celebrities operate within industries. Their humanitarian impulses may begin as sincere, but they exist within systems shaped by branding, investment, and commercial interests.

That doesn’t necessarily invalidate their actions. After all, none of us are entirely selfless. Even ordinary acts of charity produce emotional rewards, a sense of being good, of belonging, of moral worth. Why should that be more forgivable for non-celebrities than for celebrities?

Sometimes, focusing too much on motivation distracts from more important questions: What do celebrity interventions actually do? Where do they work? Where do they fail? What can they realistically achieve?

As Dan Brockington argues, rather than endlessly questioning intent, we might ask where celebrity advocacy is effective, and how it might be improved.

Duaa: How important is performance in all of this?

Deborah: Performance is unavoidable.

I often think of celebrity as a mirror. Ideally, audiences should look through the celebrity to see the social issue being highlighted. But more often, people end up looking at the celebrity instead.

This isn’t necessarily a failure of individual celebrities; it’s a structural feature of celebrity culture. Celebrities exist to command attention. They are bound up with entertainment. Even when addressing serious issues, that logic persists.

Humanitarianism can become just another aspect of the celebrity persona, something to be consumed, judged, and compared. Was this intervention authentic? Was it done well? Did this celebrity perform care better than another?

That paradox is deeply embedded in the medium itself. Academic critique often recognises this, but it can be disconnected from practice. NGOs, celebrities, audiences, and scholars all operate in parallel, often without meaningful dialogue.

I think navigating this tension, rather than trying to eliminate it, is one of the key challenges of contemporary celebrity humanitarianism.

Duaa: How do geography and wealth shape trust in celebrity activism?

Deborah: While Global North–Global South divides matter, I’m increasingly interested in other forms of distance, even within the Global South.

In Nigeria, for instance, celebrities based in Lagos may intervene in crises in rural or conflict-affected regions where they are not recognised as celebrities at all. That raises questions about who celebrity status actually matters to, and how it mediates relationships on the ground.

I think about distance both vertically and horizontally: class, wealth, education, religion, ethnicity, urban–rural divides. A wealthy celebrity intervening in an internally displaced persons camp is navigating a very different power dynamic than a Global North celebrity working abroad, but distance still exists.

These distances shape how celebrities frame themselves: as insiders, outsiders, benefactors, or peers. They also shape strategic decisions, whether to speak publicly, remain silent, collaborate with NGOs, or set up independent organisations.

Duaa: Are people becoming more cynical about celebrity activism or more demanding of it?

Deborah: Probably both.

There is a broader decline in trust across institutions; governments, media, and public figures, including celebrities. But that doesn’t mean celebrity humanitarianism is fading. If anything, it is evolving.

Celebrity activism continues to fill gaps left by weak or absent states. It intersects with new media forms and new technologies, taking on different shapes. Shows like Celebrity Traitors illustrate this paradox perfectly: they generate enormous attention and funds, yet the charitable cause itself can fade into the background.

Celebrity humanitarianism is far from over. It may change form, but it remains deeply embedded in how we imagine care, responsibility, and public action today.

Deborah is a researcher and communications consultant specializing in the politics of representation. Currently an AHRC-funded doctoral scholar at the University of Liverpool, Deborah’s research investigates the performance of celebrity-led interventions in Nigeria.

As a Commonwealth Scholar with a Master’s in Media and International Development from the University of East Anglia, her expertise blends rigorous academic analysis with practical sector insights. Deborah contributes to the Charity Advertising Research Series, which have become a benchmark for INGOs looking to contest assumptions of ethical storytelling in an era of rapid technological change.