Japan knows how to do androgyny. But its polished portrayal of male idols is now undergoing a reckoning. The carefully crafted images that once captivated millions are unraveling, revealing a culture riddled with abuse, coercion, and unchecked power.
And the eye of the storm is Johnny & Associates.
The agency that defined—and dominated—J-pop for over half a century is named after its late founder, Johnny Kitagawa. He was once celebrated as a visionary who transformed ordinary boys into national icons. But beneath the glittering surface lay decades of sexual abuse, covered up by a complicit media and industry structure.
A stream of new misconduct allegations has even caused the company to rebrand itself as “Smile-Up.” Still, whatever name it bears, the agency has to face scandals involving top idols like Masahiro Nakai and Taichi Kokubun.
And now, Japan’s entertainment world faces an uncomfortable truth: androgyny and vulnerability, once hallmarks of the idol persona, have long been used to mask deeply patriarchal structures and systemic exploitation.
The Manufacture of Androgynous Fantasy
Once upon a time, Johnny & Associates specialized in curating an idealized image of male idols—soft-spoken, delicate, and emotionally accessible.
These traits mirrored the aesthetics of “Boys’ Love” manga, a genre popular with young women for its portrayals of tender male relationships unburdened by patriarchal dominance. For fans, these idols offered a refuge from Japan’s rigid gender norms—an emotional sanctuary of sorts.
Yet this fantasy came at a cost.
Behind the androgynous façade were strictly hierarchical, authoritarian work environments that exerted immense control over the idols’ lives. What was sold as vulnerability and emotional openness was, in practice, a tool to enhance marketability and cultivate obsessive fan loyalty.
The truth is, the idols were not liberated figures—they were commodified symbols, carefully managed by a male-dominated institution with little regard for their autonomy or safety.
Behind the Curtain: Abuse and Complicity
The darkest secrets of Johnny’s empire began surfacing in earnest only after Kitagawa’s death in 2019, though allegations had trailed him for decades. Hundreds of former trainees and talents have since come forward, detailing horrific patterns of sexual abuse dating back to the 1970s. For years, the Japanese media—reliant on Johnny’s idols for ratings and magazine sales—remained silent.
The abuse wasn’t a historical footnote; it was a foundational element of the company’s power. Kitagawa’s predation wasn’t just tolerated—it was institutionalized. Silence became the price of stardom. This dynamic didn’t vanish with his passing.
If the idol industry begins to reconcile its dazzling image with its darker realities, then it will finally offer the emotional liberation it has long promised—but failed—to provide.
Then came Masahiro Nakai.
His story came out in 2023. At that stage, Nakai was a beloved former member of the boy band SMAP and a high-profile TV host. Then, suddenly, he retired following reports of sexual misconduct. The allegation is that he paid 90 million yen in hush money to a woman who accused him of a non-consensual sexual act.
Soon after, it was the turn of Taichi Kokubun. A television personality, he also stepped down amid undisclosed but serious misconduct allegations.
These cases were impactful. They shattered the illusion that the idols, symbols of emotional refinement, were immune to abuse or corruption.
Even worse for fans, some had become perpetrators themselves. Seeing former victims replicating the very cycles of dominance that once controlled them added a layer to the sickness of the debacle: a self-replicating monster, deeply rooted in what was once seen as a safe space.
Smile-Up or Cover-Up?
The backlash for Johnny & Associates was enormous. Rebranding themselves as “Smile-Up” showed just how much embarrassment they had incurred. The new entity was tasked with compensating victims and distancing itself from its disgraced founder, but critics remain skeptical: in their eyes, this is little more than reputational management.
Indeed, while the name changed, the structure that enabled decades of abuse remains largely intact.
Corporate partners, once complicit in ignoring allegations, began to pull away only after public opinion turned. But without structural reforms—transparent governance, independent oversight, and survivor-centered restitution—the agency’s makeover risks being another performance. In short, accountability must go deeper than branding.
And yet, despite these many scandals, female fans remain loyal to the idol industry.
The Pull of Gendered Melancholia
Gendered melancholia is a powerful cultural force.
Its attraction is such that even these repeated scandals cannot shake it. Androgynous male idols offer an escape—a dream of emotional safety, intimacy, and gender fluidity absent in real life. And this escapism has become vital to the point that fans cannot part with it easily, even when faced with the truth.
The concept of gendered melancholia helps explain how women, burdened by emotional and social constraints under patriarchy, project their desires and disappointments onto idol figures. The dream is a double-edged sword. It offers empowerment only within carefully scripted parameters controlled by men in power. But it works: the emotional labor fans invest is immense.
Yet the reward—an illusion of connection—is fleeting.
Worse, the very traits that attract fans are often weaponized to maintain control over performers and their audience alike. Idol culture promises liberation but enacts subjugation, leaving behind a trail of disillusioned victims and emotionally exhausted fans.
Japanese mainstream media has been a key enabler of the idol industry’s contradictions.
For decades, it helped glamorize Johnny’s stars while burying allegations of abuse. Tabloid sensationalism occasionally broke through, but serious investigative reporting was rare.
The result? A culture of collective amnesia. The fantasy of innocence and beauty overshadowed ugly truths.
Even today, media coverage of the Smile-Up rebranding often glosses over the victims’ stories in favor of corporate PR. When Nakai and Kokubun were implicated, coverage focused more on their sudden retirements than the systems that allowed their alleged misconduct.
This selective storytelling doesn’t just obscure the truth—it also undermines reform. As long as image takes precedence over justice, idol culture will remain a deeply exploitative space masquerading as emotional refuge.
A Way Forward: Ethics over Aesthetics
So what can be done?
Superficial change is no longer enough. The idol industry—and the media that supports it—must adopt a new ethical framework, one that puts the well-being of performers and fans ahead of profits and illusions.
First, talent agencies must institute safeguards to prevent abuse: third-party oversight, mental health support, and robust whistleblower protections.
Second, compensation for victims must be swift and transparent—not hidden behind legal jargon and PR spin.
Third, the media must abandon its role as enabler and become a watchdog. Entertainment reporting cannot remain divorced from ethics. Idol culture may be fantasy, but the people involved—on both sides of the stage—are real.
And finally, fans must be encouraged to critically engage with the content they consume.
This last point may be the most important: gendered melancholia must be taken seriously, not commodified. Emotional longing isn’t something to exploit—it’s something to understand and support. Creating spaces for healthy fan expression and open dialogue will be key to building a more humane cultural landscape.
Because this is what audiences want. But this emotional need is too often exploited by idol culture rather than satiated with the genuine emotional freedom that its androgynous charm is supposed to deliver. If the idol industry begins to reconcile its dazzling image with its darker realities, then it will finally offer the emotional liberation it has long promised—but failed—to provide.