Hololive and Virtual Youtube are the Future of Japan’s Idol Industry

If you’re like me and live in one of the many parts of the world that are not Japan, you probably had no clue what Hololive or what “virtual youtube” were, outside of maybe Kizuna Ai. If Google search trends are any indication, Hololive didn’t really start gaining traction until the end of the last year, around the time of the Azur Lane collaboration, and growth didn’t really start picking up until a few months ago. How should we understand this growing class of semi-virtual entertainers? Are they idols? Are they streamers? I think the best way to understand virtual youtubers is as an outgrowth of Japan’s existing idol culture. I would argue that virtual youtubers reflect the Japanese idol industry’s attempts to adapt to a changing economic, social and technological landscape. In many ways, virtual youtube is both a continuation on and a new paradigm for the industry.

To understand the rise of the virtual youtuber sensation, it’s necessary to understand the history of the nature of idol culture in Japan. It will become evident later why I’m drawing these comparisons between idol culture and virtual youtube. The modern conception of Japanese idol culture was very much a direct result of the rapid success of AKB48, and more specifically one man in particular, AKB48’s chief producer Yasushi Akimoto. Akimoto’s success lays in how he was able to use the marketing around AKB48 to change the understanding of idols in Japanese culture. During Japan’s first idol boom during the 1980s, idols were treated in a very protective manner, where they were largely kept out of the public eye except during performances and live events. This perception flipped on its head with AKB48 because the group’s motto was “idols you can meet”. AKB48 largely pioneered the practice of “handshake events” where fans can meet and take pictures with the idols. AKB48 also has a significantly large public presence as a result of both their large size and the increasing popularity of the internet and social media. Another major innovation of AKB48 was the embracing of the importance of the individuality of idols. AKB48 internalized a sort of democratization amongst its fanbase where an individual idol’s popularity becomes an important aspect of their role within the group. AKB48 featured elections where fans would vote to determine who would appear as the lead singer on new songs. The importance of an idol’s individual relationships and popularity amongst fans continues to be a driving factor of the idol industry. The end result of these innovations was that AKB48’s explosive popularity actually ended up saving Japan’s collapsing music industry. Some analysis suggests that the introduction of AKB48 can at least partially be attributed to Japan’s music industry seeing revenues increasing for the first time in years.

The reason why understanding AKB48 is so important to understanding the current moment is because Japan’s idol industry has not really meaningfully innovated or evolved since AKB48’s debut in the mid 2000s. Unlike K-pop which for a variety of political and economic reasons was largely targeted at international audiences, the Japanese idol industry has largely been focused on appealing to a very specific demographic of domestic idol Otaku. AKB48 still remains one of the most popular idol acts and still largely uses the same management system since its inception. A common criticism of J-pop is that producers and executives are hesitant to take creative risks which leads to groups using the same styles and concepts over and over for years. After the initial rally in early 2010s, Japan’s music industry has been steadily on the decline. Competition, both domestic and international, has fiercely increased since AKB48’s hayday. According to Akio Nakamori, an idol industry expert, he estimates that the number of idols, both professional and amature is around 10000. This problem is compounded by the increasing popularity of Korean pop groups within Japan. The popularity of groups of KARA and Girl’s Generation and more recently, Twice, have always reflected a major competitor to Japan’s domestic music industry. Broadly speaking this is reflective of K-pop’s ability to innovate and brand itself as an international music medium in a way that J-pop never has. Given this new economic reality, it was clear that something about the idol industry in Japan would have to change.

In many ways, it seems like the rise of virtual idols like Hatsune Miku and more recently, virtual youtube, is a response to the economic pressures on the traditional idol industry. Given that it is far cheaper and far more scalable to create avatars than can be used anywhere without expensive training of idol talent, it was perhaps inevitable that the industry would evolve in this way. Virtual youtube also allows for exploration of and capitalisation on international audiences that traditional Japanese idol culture was unable to do so. Nisanji and Hololive have been increasing their presences of international personalities that appeal to markets in China, Indonesia, and the English speaking world. There’s no shortage of streams where virtual youtubers try to learn english or attempt to communicate with their western viewers. Akai Haato for instance is a Japanese girl who lives in Australia and frequently has English only streams to appeal to her Western fanbase. Additionally, Hololive, as far as I understand, is quite popular amongst Chinese audiences, which probably explains the Azur Lane crossover.

But what’s far more interesting than the economic dimension of virtual youtube, is how they reflect both a continuity and positive evolution of the loaded social dynamics behind Japan’s idol industry. The reason why I use the word “idol” to refer to virtual youtubers, particularly the ones managed by companies like Ichikara and Cover is that their core appeal and activities are largely the same as traditional physical idols. When you look at the way these characters are marketed and the activities they participate in, it’s not unlike what you see amongst “real” idols. Many of these virtual youtubers sing and a few of the most popular ones have more traditional musical careers. Hololive has an entire section of their business dedicated to live performance and I don’t doubt that live performances featuring Vtubers will become more and more popular. Much in the same way that a traditional idol might go on a variety program or talk show, these companies make plenty of content where the different Vtubers come together and interact while doing some fun, zany activity. The way the ecosystem is structured is remarkably similar to that of the traditional idol industry. There’s this class of very popular youtubers with entire companies dedicated to producing and managing them with many smaller independent Vtubers beneath them.

But at the end of the day, the question that needs to be addressed is what exactly is the appeal of an idol? It’s probably not their singing and dancing ability, a common criticism of idols is that they aren’t actually particularly talented singers. Rather, it’s their ability to create seemingly authentic parasocial relationships with fans. The genius behind AKB48’s branding as “idols you can meet” is that Akimoto understood that the primary drive behind an idol’s success was their ability to form relationships with fans. In their book Idols and Celebrity in Japanese Media Culture, Patrick W. Galbraith argues that the primary appeal of an idol is as an image not unlike that of an anime, manga or videogame character. What draws people in is the idea of the image that these idols symbolize, not anything intrinsic to their position as real humans. Ultimately, the relationship that people form with idols are just a commodity being sold to them by producers, not a genuine human connection. Given this, the logical extension is the removal of the human face all together and the replacement of the idol with a cute anime avatar. The question at the center of the rise of virtual youtube is what makes a virtual youtuber more appealing than watching some real 3D woman like Pokimane.

On the surface, one would probably just say that the appeal can be boiled down to how weebs are drawn to cute anime girls with cute anime voices (and that’s very true), but I would argue that the core appeal that separates a virtual youtuber from a real one is that many people perceive virtual youtubers to be more authentic than their 3D counterparts. The inherent contradiction with that claim is that facially, it seems illogical that the removal of the human aspects of an idol would make them more authentic.

I think this is the result of two factors. First, I think that by having these people represented by anime avatars, it makes it easier to project onto these abstractions. I think this is best illustrated by the most toxic and rabid fans of idols, female streamers and Vtubers alike. You have this contingent of delusional men who spin fake relationships with these girls in their heads and white knighting them constantly. Perhaps removing the human aspect actually makes that process of projection easier because their humanity is further removed from the end product of consumption, the relationship that is created between the idol and the fan. Virtual youtubers occupy this middle space between a truly virtual idol like Hatsune Miku and traditional idols. They are both human enough to facilitate the formation of relationships with fans and just abstract enough to prevent people from having to confront how they are objectifying real people. Especially for Western fans, virtual youtubers can seem like anime characters that you can interact with.

But I think another major aspect of their appeal can be explained by how virtual youtube reflects a shifting paradigm of the culture and management style surrounding idols. Ichikara and Cover give their idols a remarkable amount of flexibility in the content they create and how they interact with fans. Matusri’s bandaid story or Haato’s feet smelling incident would definitely never have come out of the mouths of more traditional idols. In Japan, the idol isn’t just a singer or musician like you might find in the West. Japanese idols are upheld as role models and are expected to represent good moral values in a way that we wouldn’t attribute to someone like Billie Eillish This is why idols are often excessively micromanaged by producers and held to obscene standards of purity and chastity. We’ve seen this darker side of the idol moniker play out when Covers was forced to apologize when Towa’s stream had unauthorised male voices on it. Scandalous!

In an online culture like Japan’s that prizes anonymity, being behind an avatar frees up these virtual youtubers to take certain risks or act in a certain way that likely never would if their face was on display. I think it’s a lot harder to project the same kinds of puritanical moral standards onto a literal anime motion capture model, but no doubt the rapid idol fans will find a way to do it. It probably also doesn’t hurt that being behind an avatar shields them from the tendency of Asian netizens to ruthlessly critique the personal lives and physical appearances of idols, though I think slowly this has been getting better. At the end of the day, it’s a lot easier to hide aspects of your personal life when people don’t know your name, what you look like or where you live. Ironically, the privacy afforded by the virtual avatars enables people to be more genuine and sincere with how they interact with fans.

Call me optimistic, but the rise of virtual youtubers and virtual idols gives me some modicum of hope for the future of Japan’s idol industry, which is otherwise notorious for its poor treatment of their own idols. Girls are often scouted and picked up as early as 12 years of age to undergo vigorous training, even then it is completely up in the air if you debut or become popular at all. Idol otaku are also well known for just being very creepy people. There’s no shortage of incidents of rabid fans stalking and harassing idols. Famously there was an incident a couple years ago where an idol was forced to apologize after being harassed by two men outside her apartment. In many ways, being a virtual star eliminates many of these problems traditionally associated with being an idol. It’s far easier to maintain privacy when you’re hidden behind an avatar. It’s quite telling that the original voice of Kizuna Ai was more or less able to keep her identity a secret until after she retired from voicing the character. But more broadly, virtual youtube is able to give these young women an outlet to explore performance in a far lower stakes setting than the traditional process of being an idol. I can definitely see virtual youtubers continue to grow in popularity, especially as these companies look to invest in international audiences but only time will tell if this is the beginning of a revolution in idol culture or just a momentary flash in the pan.

Sources and further reading:

P. W. Galbraith, J. G. Karlin. Idols and Celebrity in Japanese Media Culture. Chapters 9 and 10

Gabriella Lukacs. The Labor of Cute: Net Idols, Cute Culture, and the Digital Economy in Contemporary Japan

Pieter-Jan Van Haecke. Female idols in Japan: Desiring desire, fantasmatic consumption and drive satisfaction

Nakamori Akio. The Future of Japan’s Idol Industry

Yuya Kuichi. Idols You Can Meet: AKB 48 and a New Trend in Japan’s Music Industry