I opened my X feed the other day, and there were so many memes about some random couple who allegedly cheated during a Coldplay concert. Within three minutes, I knew more about these two strangers than I ever wanted to. I had never even heard of the company they worked for, nor had their lives ever impacted mine. Normally, I don’t find it funny when people comment on other people’s personal business.
That day, I struggled to find any news coming from Gaza or Syria amid all the jokes and viral posts. Yet in the same week that this Coldplay saga was trending, catastrophic events were unfolding in both Gaza and Syria. It felt like the internet was united - for memes.
Just as stories of a cheating couple at a music concert exploded across social media-garnering instant memeification and viral traction - horrifying events were unfolding in the Middle East. The contrast could not be more stark: global attention shifted dramatically toward a sensationalist entertainment moment, while a humanitarian catastrophe went unnoticed.
In northern Gaza, hundreds of civilians were killed by Israeli fire while waiting for food aid near the Zikim crossing - one of the deadliest assaults on aid seekers this month. Additional deaths occurred in Rafah and Khan Younis. This is part of a wider trend since May, in which people are being killed by Israel simply while trying to get food.
Meanwhile, in Syria’s Sweida province, clashes between Druze and Bedouin groups have killed over a thousand people in less than a week, displacing tens of thousands.
This phenomenon of people caring more about random couple cheating than Palestinians or Syrians being killed reflects deep psychological and sociological patterns. We respond more instantly to entertainment that triggers humor or disgust. A quick meme about a cheating couple delivers immediate emotional gratification. It’s a simple story - one that doesn’t require any deeper understanding. Cheating story is seemingly universal, relatable, and easy to digest.
On the other hand, Gaza and Syria feel distant for many audiences. The daily horrors of starvation, displacement, and mass death are abstract, especially when filtered through politically charged media and censorship. Many platforms endorse Israel’s narrative of the conflict. Countless influencers have reported that posting about the genocide in Gaza leads to shadow banning or their content being silenced by social media platforms.
From an academic perspective, our obsession with other people’s personal lives can be explained by parasocial interaction theory: we feel emotionally connected to public figures or even viral strangers. We create narratives around them that feel intimate and personal. That emotional proximity doesn’t exist when we see images of distant suffering. Why can’t people relate to or condemn what’s happening in Gaza? Why doesn’t a photo of a Palestinian woman holding a cup, desperate for food, resonate as deeply? Her eyes tell a story of hunger and exhaustion - I don’t need her to speak my language to understand her pain. So why wasn’t her photo trending on my feed? Why wasn’t she mentioned during a Coldplay concert?
Would people believe her story of survival like they believed that a CEO cheated on his wife with the HR manager?
In case you were busy following that couple’s personal lives, here is what else happened at the same time: Slovenia, the first EU country to do so, banned Israeli ministers Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich from entering its territory, citing their “genocidal statements” and incitement to violence against Palestinians.
Pope Leo XIV, in a powerful statement, called the war in Gaza an act of “barbarity”, after an Israeli strike killed civilians at the Holy Family Catholic Church. Speaking from Castel Gandolfo, he urged all sides to protect civilians, respect international law, and end the violence.
Yet these remarks were barely visible online - while the news of a CEO’s resignation following a cheating scandal was reposted millions of times.
It tells us that the trivial often overrides the consequential. Tragedies involving thousands of civilians go unread, while gossip eclipses genocide in reach.
Still, the actions of Slovenia offer a rare note of hope - proof that diplomatic accountability and moral outrage can still break through the noise. When political leaders step up to condemn atrocities in concrete ways, they open space for the world to follow.
We have the capacity to unite - but only if we shift our priorities. Viral entertainment may unite us in laughter. But what if we united in grief? In empathy? In action?
Because no matter where civilians come from, their lives matter. And if the internet can unite around a scandal, it can - and must - unite to defend humanity.
