Coldplay’s semi-fascist ‘kiss cam’

The ease with which we accept that the two stunned summer lovers (who went to a crowded concert to cheat on their partners, to embrace as if on the eve of their wedding, to desperately try to hide when the find themselves in focus) were exposed by Coldplay’s semi-fascist kiss cam is impressive. A giant eye roaming the stands of a stadium, stopping where it pleases and pressuring people to kiss in full view of a crowd that will either boo or applaud the passion on display, if there is any (what does the camera know? what does the public know? how do they distinguish between engaged couples from parents accompanying their daughters in the VIP areas?).

We say no to cameras on the street, sacrificing security for privacy, but we applaud seeing someone exposed in front of thousands of people (or millions, if it gets out) in a place and in the company of someone they might not necessarily want everyone else to be aware of. Yes, someone might lie at work, feign illness, or invent an excuse not to visit their parents, or reschedule a meeting or a shift with a less festive justification than attending a concert, in the knowledge there’s a minimal chance of running into someone they know, or appearing in someone’s Instagram stories: all of this is a game, we citizens mingling.

But the horrifying kiss cam is the state controlling (or bedding! may God take away my keyboard) its citizens on the excuse of fun, the most conservative in the world: it is the strength of Coldplay’s colored bracelets and their good vibes disguised as imposition; it is Chris Martin’s dazzling white giggles, in the knowledge of the conflicts that will have been created by the camera the following day; it is the border of consent (is consent the same in private as it is in front of 80,000 people demanding a kiss?); it is the requirement to respond with a certain reaction of happiness to not break the collective emotional choreography, leaving people with no choice.

Any night the kiss cam may focus on a couple of terrorists who are having trouble with their backpacks on their first mission, and the public will demand that they kiss: Viva la vida, without a doubt.

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