Before I was allowed to go on the internet, I vividly remember stealing my dad’s phone to watch videos of the Speak Now World Tour on YouTube. The album Fearless was the soundtrack to the back of my mom’s car in 2010 and I listened to every word of Red on my iPad when it came out as if it were gospel. Over the next decade, I kept up with every release: I squealed the morning evermore dropped out of nowhere; my friends and I threw a Midnights listening party for my whole high school; I went to The Eras Tour an amount of times I’m still repaying my parents for.
As a longtime Taylor Swift lover/hater, I’ve heard it all. I know she’s a snake, a performative billionaire, another annoying white girl whose music lacks depth. On one hand, I’ve appreciated her attempt to use her positionality as a liberal white woman with roots in Tennessee to unite polarized opinions in a unique way and I won’t deny the strides she’s made for artist’s rights in the music industry. I’ve seen how her art has changed lives across the world, but also can’t get over her disavowal of her status as one of the most influential women of our time at the forefront of popular culture.
As a white billionaire whose annual number of merchandise drops and 45 minute private flights surpasses her calls to action by orders of magnitude, her performative activism harms our generation’s ability to make meaningful change by normalizing flimsy advocacy packaged as revolutionary. For this reason, Taylor Swift no longer has my respect. Her commitment to protect her image, even when she already has a net worth of 1.6 billion, proves that she is too much of a money hungry egotist to deserve her platform.
To me, Taylor Swift’s rocky relationship with Olivia Rodrigo is the epitome of her self obsession. The two artists used to have a close, mentor-mentee relationship. Rodrigo, who is thirteen years younger than Swift, grew up a longtime Swift fan, wearing her merch in old social media posts and mentioning Swift as an inspiration in interviews. When Rodrigo released her debut single, to her disbelief, Swift commented, “I say that’s my baby and I’m really proud.” Like a true mentor, Swift sent Rodrigo a handwritten note and matching ring, and the two posted on social media looking like best friends. Rodrigo sampled one of Swift’s chord progressions for a track on her debut album SOUR and credits another song’s bridge, “Deja Vu,” as being inspired by Swift’s “Cruel Summer” bridge.
Fast forward a few months and Swift is added as a writing credit on “Deja Vu”. Rodrigo mentions feeling “a little caught off guard” when asked about Swift’s insistence on being credited in a Rolling Stone interview, and the two don’t seem to speak to each other again. Swift has since promoted other smaller indie-pop artists, hosting Phoebe Bridgers, Gracie Abrams and Sabrina Carpenter to open for her world tour, and collaborating on tracks with 20 artists, from Lana Del Ray to Hayley Williams. All the while, Rodrigo is not included.
As of today, SOUR has 15 billion streams on Spotify, the most streamed album of any female artist on the app. It has surpassed every one of Swift’s 15 album releases. Swift saw Rodrigo’s SOUR success and couldn’t let another young female artist succeed without her name attached, with her demand for writing credits on “Deja Vu” revealing her overly self-interested character. Swift behaved similarly when choosing up and coming singer-songwriters to open for her Eras Tour; She knew their success would be inextricably linked to her after hosting these artists under her brand.
I understand that her career depends on her image – she didn’t design the industry, or capitalism, to be this way – but when she already has so much money, it is clear that her power-hungry approach is simply to feed her ego.
In her documentary, “Miss Americana,” scenes of her wrestling with the Tennessee 2018 midterm elections portray her as a struggling activist. She criticizes Republican Senator Marsha Blackburn for a matter of “basic human rights,” chiding Blackburn’s sexist ideology. She reflects on being torn between speaking up or protecting her “nice girl” image, eventually concluding that she “can’t not step in” and endorsing the Democratic candidate of the election on Instagram. In the following scene, she finds out there have been 51,308 new voter registrations in the last 24 hours; she knows her voice matters.
Nonetheless, since Miss Americana came out, she has made only twelve political public statements on social media in the span of five years. The announcements commented on elections, women’s rights, queer rights and gun violence: all important, but issues that mostly impact her personally. She has been silent on so many issues that affect people of color. I know it’s impossible to talk about every possible issue ever, but she could at least choose a few. At the same time, Bono released an article condemning Israel’s military actions in Gaza. Billie Eilish turned the O2 vegan in honor of a climate-centered event, forcing all concert goers to participate. Lady Gaga used a Grammys acceptance speech to validate the Trans community and met with President Obama to protect LGBTQ+ children from bullying.
Swift, on the other hand, used her Grammys “Best Pop Vocal Album” acceptance speech to promote another release and made five variants of vinyls for her Midnights album alone. She struggles to address current issues like the Palestinian genocide, but has time to promote her newest money grab. When other successful, cis white artists have proven its possible to do tangible activism, it is clear that Swift’s number one priority is to stay the “nice girl.” In doing so, she is proving she is not that nice after all.
I know it is easier said than done to critically examine artists like her. Here I am, as an Asian woman, who still grew up listening to Taylor Swift and other majority white artists because that was all I’d ever known. The worldwide community I’ve found through her music will always mean so much to me and her lyricism still leaves me in awe. But I am old enough to know that it starts with diversifying my listening activity and calling out perpetuating actors in the system. Taylor Swift is one of them, and I refuse to put her on the pedestal that I used to.
Nicole Teh SCR ‘27 is from Hong Kong. This month, she has been listening to Samia, Jensen McRae and Ben Platt’s version of Diet Pepsi.
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