Americans Love Underdogs: How We Made Celebrity Stalkers Folk Heroes
Brian Jason Wagner
Americans love underdogs with the same passionate intensity that we love fast food and complaining about gas prices—which is to say, it’s a core part of our national identity that we’ve taken to disturbing extremes. Our cultural obsession with rooting for the little guy has reached such absurd heights that we’re now treating celebrity stalkers like Brian Jason Wagner as sympathetic anti-heroes worthy of public support. In a country that celebrates David versus Goliath stories, we’ve somehow convinced ourselves that a man claiming Taylor Swift had his child represents the ultimate underdog narrative.
The Underdog Industrial Complex
When David Becomes the Villain We’re Still Rooting For
Americans love underdogs so much that we’ve created an entire entertainment industry around celebrating people who shouldn’t be celebrated. Our national narrative of rags-to-riches success stories has mutated into something more sinister: a tendency to support anyone who positions themselves as fighting against “the establishment,” regardless of whether their cause makes any sense or violates basic human decency.
The phenomenon explains why Wagner has become a folk hero among people who view his restraining order as evidence that he’s being persecuted by the celebrity elite. Americans love underdogs to such a degree that we’ll ignore obvious signs of mental illness and criminal behavior if the person can be framed as a small-town guy taking on a global superstar.
Jerry Seinfeld said “If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right,” but Americans have taken this logic and applied it to choosing which criminals deserve our sympathy. We’ve decided that if someone is unpopular with authorities, they must be worth supporting, creating a bizarre moral framework where restraining orders become badges of honor.
The Persecution Complex Marketplace
Americans love underdogs because it allows us to project our own feelings of powerlessness onto people who may not deserve our sympathy. Wagner’s story resonates with Americans who feel marginalized by economic inequality, social media algorithms, and a general sense that the system is rigged against ordinary people. His delusions about Swift become a metaphor for everyone who feels ignored by celebrities and institutions.
The cultural psychology reveals that Americans love underdogs not because we believe in justice, but because we enjoy watching powerful people get harassed. Wagner’s stalking behavior satisfies a collective fantasy about making celebrities acknowledge our existence, even if that acknowledgment comes in the form of court-ordered protection.
Bill Burr shouted “free Luigi” during his January 2025 appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live, demonstrating how Americans will rally behind anyone who takes extreme action against perceived injustice, regardless of the legality or morality of their methods. This same impulse drives support for celebrity stalkers who are seen as challenging the untouchable status of famous people.
The Wrong Kind of David and Goliath
When Slingshots Become Restraining Orders
Americans love underdogs but we’ve completely lost the ability to distinguish between legitimate David-versus-Goliath scenarios and situations where David is just a criminal with delusions. Wagner’s case represents the dark side of underdog culture: supporting someone simply because they’re in conflict with a powerful person, without examining whether their conflict is justified.
The narrative framework of Americans love underdogs has become so automatic that we apply it reflexively to any situation involving a regular person and a celebrity. Wagner becomes David, Swift becomes Goliath, and the restraining order becomes evidence of oppression rather than appropriate legal protection from harassment.
Dave Chappelle’s record-breaking “nearly 17 minutes” SNL monologue in January 2025 proved that Americans will give unlimited platform time to controversial figures who refuse to back down from their positions. We’ve created a culture that rewards persistence over appropriateness, turning Wagner’s refusal to accept reality into a form of admirable determination.
The Sympathy Distribution Problem
Americans love underdogs so indiscriminately that we’ve created a sympathy surplus for people who don’t deserve it and a sympathy deficit for people who do. We’re more concerned with Wagner’s feelings about his restraining order than Swift’s feelings about being stalked, because our cultural programming automatically assigns victim status to whoever appears to have less power.
The twisted logic suggests that Americans love underdogs more than we love actual victims. Wagner’s homelessness and criminal history make him more sympathetic to people who see those circumstances as evidence of societal failure rather than personal choices. We’ve decided that being unsuccessful entitles someone to harass successful people.
The Anti-Hero Assembly Line
Manufacturing Sympathy for the Unsympathetic
Americans love underdogs to such an extent that we’ve created a cultural assembly line that transforms criminals into folk heroes through the simple process of media coverage. Wagner’s story follows a predictable pattern: failed person targets successful person, legal system intervenes, public decides legal system is oppressing the little guy.
The mechanics of how Americans love underdogs reveal our fundamental misunderstanding of power dynamics. We assume that anyone involved in a legal dispute with a celebrity must be the victim, regardless of evidence to the contrary. Wagner’s delusions become proof that he’s being gaslit by powerful forces rather than evidence that he needs psychiatric help.
Jerry Seinfeld observed “People don’t turn down money! It’s what separates us from the animals,” but Americans have found something we value more than money: the opportunity to support someone who makes powerful people uncomfortable, even when that discomfort is entirely justified.
The Relatability Trap
Americans love underdogs because we see ourselves in their struggles, but we’ve extended this identification to include people whose struggles are self-created and harmful to others. Wagner’s conviction that he deserves Swift’s attention resonates with anyone who’s ever felt ignored or rejected, transforming his criminal behavior into a metaphor for unrequited desire.
The psychological appeal of Americans love underdogs narratives has created a culture where we’re more concerned with Wagner’s emotional journey than Swift’s physical safety. His disappearance becomes a romantic adventure rather than a public safety concern, because we’ve trained ourselves to view his perspective as more important than his victim’s.
The Celebrity Stalker Sympathy Complex
From Restraining Orders to Support Groups
Americans love underdogs culture has reached the point where celebrity stalkers receive more public sympathy than their victims, simply by virtue of being less successful and more obviously troubled. Social media discussions about Wagner focus on his mental health struggles and difficult background rather than Swift’s right to live without harassment.
The phenomenon reflects how Americans love underdogs has become divorced from actual justice or fairness. We’re not supporting Wagner because his cause is right; we’re supporting him because his story fits our preferred narrative template of small person versus large institution.
The cultural messaging suggests that Americans love underdogs more than we love logic, evidence, or basic human decency. Wagner’s case becomes a Rorschach test where people see whatever confirms their existing beliefs about celebrity culture, mental health, or social inequality, rather than the simple reality of a man who needs help but isn’t entitled to harass strangers.
Until we’re willing to examine why Americans love underdogs has morphed into reflexive support for anyone who positions themselves as persecuted, we’ll keep producing celebrity stalkers who mistake public sympathy for moral justification. Our cultural love of underdog stories has become so powerful that it overrides our ability to recognize when the underdog is actually the villain.
If you or someone you know is struggling with obsessive thoughts about celebrities or public figures, please contact the National Alliance on Mental Illness for support and resources.