Seismic Shifts in K-Pop: Tensions Among Authenticity, Globalization, and Cultural Roots

“Imagine being in your 12th year of study and opening a concert for another group just because the group is Western. This is the height of seeking Western validation”; “Nayeon and the rest of Twice are desperate for Western validation.” These are some of the comments on social media following the collaboration between the Korean K-pop band Twice and the British Coldplay, which involved the former opening for the latter during six shows in South Korea. They are not the only ones criticized by their fans using this term. “All of Jennie’s art and vision are just a desperate strategy to fit into the United States,” summarizes a current opinion about the Blackpink singer, who just released her debut solo album, Ruby. “Can we agree that Lisa will never obtain the Western validation she desperately seeks and will only top the charts in Thailand?” is said about another Blackpink member, who released Alter Ego in February. Both performed this past April at the latest Coachella, the world’s most media-centric festival.

The start of the solo careers of Blackpink members (who will reunite for a performance in Barcelona on August 9 this year) has reignited the debate not only around their Koreaness, but also about questioning the national character of the genre, especially regarding its apparent orientation towards a Western validation strategy. One of the cultural explanations for this phenomenon comes from Julia Rodríguez Castillo (Granada, 32 years), a PhD in Communication from the University of Málaga and a researcher on the Korean Wave (Hallyu): “Record labels not only create stars, but also build the country brand. For years, K-pop has been a central piece in Korea’s brand, that is, in how South Korea presents itself to the world.” Mathieu Berbiguier (Avignon, France, 31 years), a PhD in Korean Studies from the University of Los Angeles, joins the debate: “Many fans are not entirely happy to see so many collaborations between Korean artists and Western artists in Lisa or Jennie’s solo projects. I think this is because there is a sense of pure and authentic K-pop that is important to fans, and much of it is linked to the language [singing in Korean] and having Korean/Asian traits. Furthermore, they worry that too many characteristics of Western singers might make them seem eager for that validation.”

This summer, the La Mar de Músicas festival in Cartagena has drawn connections with South Korea to focus its programming on offerings from the peninsula. Yunseul (Seoul, 23 years), a member of the band Bewave (which will perform on July 23 in the locality), also points to language as a differentiating element of the genre. “I think one of the most special things about K-pop is the Korean language itself. It has a very rich sound, with rhythms and pronunciations that make it very versatile,” she replies via email.

The concept of Western validation, however, is tricky per se: it presupposes that legitimate validation must come from Western cultural centers, thus perpetuating hierarchies of symbolic value. Berbiguier: “It’s a bit exaggerated to call it that, as it is also beneficial for Western artists to associate with K-pop artists. For example, Halsey, when she participated in the song Boy With Luv with BTS, received a lot of praise.” In reality, what is interpreted as seeking Western approval can also be understood as a tactic of reterritorializing global success, where artists actively negotiate their place in a polycentric cultural market. “It reflects the evolution of the power dynamic between what is considered mainstream and what is not, and how K-pop is often perceived as a threat by Western mainstream pop music,” continues Berbiguier.

As a result, K-pop, becoming a global phenomenon, has started to be evaluated under the standards of authenticity that prevail in Anglo-Saxon cultural markets and, by extension, in Hispanic ones. These standards value authorship, coherent biographical narratives, and supposed emotional transparency as indicators of artistic legitimacy, in contrast with the industrial logic of K-pop, which has traditionally prioritized technical perfection, collective production, and the fictional construction of the idol (a term used in the genre to define an idol/artist guided by the K-pop industry).

“The controversy over playback in the K-pop industry erupts again,” titled a report from The Korea Herald, one of the country’s leading English-language newspapers, regarding Lisa’s presence at the 2024 MTV Video Music Awards, with her performance at Coachella again in the spotlight for the same reason. “In Europe, consumption is more digital and fragmented: we arrive at K-pop through YouTube, TikTok, or Instagram, and we look for a more spontaneous or real connection with the artists. We focus more on whether they show their personality or seem free in their decisions,” opines Rodríguez Castillo, adding a new layer to that authenticity imposed by the West.

This hybridization of values materializes, for example, in the recent emergence of the group Katseye, a sextet operating under an agreement between Hybe (a South Korean record label) and Geffen Records (an American one). The band is mostly composed of non-Korean members, selected through a global casting. However, it presents itself under the same aesthetic, performative, legal, and production umbrella that has characterized the genre. The group debuted alongside the series Popstar Academy (on Netflix), which documented their audition process, and this gave them authenticity within the Korean fan community despite being a foreign band, “because it showed that the girls worked hard to debut and meet the expectations of a K-pop group,” states Berbiguier. The training was, therefore, the same as that of any other aspiring idol. Yunseul adds: “We practice constantly to showcase the best of ourselves.” Lena (Wakayama, Japan, 23 years), a bandmate, joined the team “ through another audition program”. “I only planned to stay in Korea for a week, but in the end, it turned into three months of selection process. Every day I practice the songs of our group, we constantly record ourselves, and if something doesn’t fit, we focus on perfecting the details,” adds the Katseye member.

The globalization of the genre has not only made its aesthetic and sound codes visible but also the power structures that articulate it from within: total assignment of image and production rights, disciplinary regimes regulating everything from the bodies to the personal relationships of the idols, and a corporate logic in which the artistic figure is subordinated to business objectives. As K-pop becomes an international cultural product, these practices have started being perceived as incompatible with labor standards prevailing in other creative industries.

“I think the strict and highly structured nature of the K-pop industry is often misunderstood in Europe due to all this discourse surrounding the darker side of the genre. I would define this as an orientalist narrative that exaggerates and focuses attention only on the negative aspects of the industry, as if other dominant popular culture industries didn’t have similar problems. This point shows a desire to exorcise K-pop as a response to justify its popularity,” claims Berbiguier, again referencing Popstar Academy.

One direct consequence of this tension has been the emergence of increasingly visible internal conflicts, such as the recent case between the members of NewJeans and the company Hybe. Ador is the Hybe subsidiary led by Min Hee-jin, whose most well-known band is NewJeans. The conflict emerged in April 2024, when Hybe launched an internal audit of Ador under suspicion that its CEO was trying to gain full control of the company. The dispute reached a new critical point in November when the quintet announced the cessation of their activities with Ador. However, in March 2025, a court ruled in favor of the label, preventing the band (renamed NJZ) from performing independently, which intensified media attention on the structure of the idol system.

As the phenomenon transcends the borders of South Korea, complex questions arise regarding the authenticity of the genre, the underlying exploitation of artists, and the hierarchies that its global success conceals. The perception of the search for Western validation, often interpreted as an effort to adapt to the standards of a hegemonic cultural market, can, however, be reframed as a negotiation strategy within a polysemic global context, where artists attempt to redefine their positions in an increasingly diversified market.