'How much for a Name-Call Video?' IVE Becomes Face of K-POP's Excessive Commercialization

As a K-POP fan, how much is hearing your favorite idol say your name worth? For IVE fans, the answer could theoretically be much more than $5.60.

IVE's agency, Starship Entertainment has come under criticism over a new IVE-themed "kuji" event, a Japanese-style lottery in which fans pay for a random draw with different prizes assigned according to grade. Held jointly with Mnet Plus from September 7 to 11, with each attempt costing roughly $5.60.

With prizes ranging from photocards and keyrings to signed merchandise and Polaroids, the top Grade A prize is what has had people talking. The lucky fan would have to pull a Grade A prize which would allow them to receive an approximately 15-second personalized video in which an IVE member calls the winner by name. While the chance of winning this seems tempting, especially with such a low start prize to a lucky draw, the actual probability of winning a Grade A prize is of just 0.03988%

The combination has understandably attracted criticism as fans have questioned why simply having an IVE member say their name has become something they must pay for a chance to receive. Others have compared the probability to winning the lottery and have even described the event as yet another attempt to extract money from an already highly monetized fandom.

IVE's kuji event also came at a time when the group was already facing some backlash. Placed at $60 per ticket, their 'MZ Wannabe Icons ' exhibition, which features members An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung, had already been receiving some negative feedback due to the entry price.

The complaints surrounding both events have therefore started to point toward a much larger question about how Starship is choosing to monetize one of K-POP's biggest fandoms. How much money is enough and where will the monetizing of fandom stop?

As a business model and industry, K-POP has never hidden the commercial foundations of fandom. Albums come in multiple versions with randomized photocards and retailer-exclusive benefits designed to encourage repeat purchases. Moreover, lucky draws, pop-up stores, character merchandise, paid messaging platforms, fan signs and video calls turn fandom into a steady stream of spending opportunities.

Concerts add merchandise and premium packages, with even increasingly brief interactions packaged and sold as meet-and-greets, send-offs or "hi-bye sessions." Starship did not invent this model, but it operates within an industry that has become increasingly creative about finding new things for fans to pay for.

K-POP does not simply sell music. It sells collecting, belonging, exclusivity and, increasingly, proximity to the artist. However, the fact that this system is already normalized does not mean there should be no limit to how aggressively an individual agency chooses to use it.

IVE's latest kuji event is particularly revealing because it combines several of those mechanisms at once: randomization, scarcity and personalized idol attention. There is nothing particularly random about paying $5.60 for a random photocard or piece of merchandise within the current K-POP market. Companies have manufactured various types of lucky draw products but until now, that's what they had all been…products.

While a fan sign offers a conversation, a video call provides a direct exchange, a concert provides hours of performance and an album gives the buyer music and a physical product. A 15-second video of an IVE member saying someone's name derives almost all of its value from something considerably less tangible. Recognition.

That distinction carries enormous emotional value in an industry built around parasocial relationships. K-POP fans are encouraged to know idols beyond their music. They watch livestreams, variety content, behind-the-scenes footage and everyday updates. They receive messages through dedicated platforms and participate in communities built around the idea of an ongoing relationship between artist and fandom.

Parasocial relationships are nothing new to K-pop, and most fans understand that an idol with millions of followers does not personally know them. What deserves scrutiny is how companies increasingly put a price on the illusion of closing that distance.

Starship's kuji reduces that idea to an unusually simple transaction: one of the smallest forms of personal acknowledgment, which is an idol saying a fan's name. That now has become the rarest reward in a paid lottery.

If Starship sold the 15-second personalized video for a fixed price, consumers could simply decide whether it was worth paying. Instead, the Grade A prize reportedly carries a very small probability per draw. Fans are not purchasing the interaction itself for $5.60, instead they are paying for the mere chance to receive it.

The draw's probability roughly works out to one winning draw per 2,508 attempts statistically, though an individual could win much earlier, later or never. Meanwhile, $5.60 can feel relatively insignificant one draw at a time. That is where the randomized mechanic becomes more complicated: another chance costs only another $5.60, and the desired prize always remains theoretically one lucky draw away. Arguably this can form an endless loop of spending just $5.60 until eventually it accumulates.

Putting into perspective that 2,508 attempts would roughly come out to $14K, it is not difficult to understand why fans themselves have responded so negatively. Many have actively engaged in conversation questioning whether the system encourages people to keep trying because there is always hope, the next attempt could be different.

With children making up a significant part of IVE's domestic audience, the model becomes more uncomfortable, potentially exposing younger fans to a gambling-like purchasing system. Especially as younger fans could place highly emotional value on being individually acknowledged by someone they admire. The kids don't see the small chances of probability, what they see is the opportunity of Wonyoung, Yujin, Gaeul, Rei, Liz or Leeseo knowing who they are.

Frequently, however, the person paying to satisfy that desire is a parent. Parents already fund albums, photocards, concerts and merchandise; randomized opportunities for personalized idol recognition now ask them to decide how much a moment carrying enormous emotional value to their child is financially worth.

Of course, nobody 'needs' to participate, just as nobody needs every album version, photocard, lucky draw or concert extra. But as these paid opportunities continue to multiply, "you don't have to buy it" becomes an increasingly inadequate response to criticism of the system itself. So, K-POP's monetization model works exactly because of how these purchases remain optional while maintaining a marketing of 'exclusivity.'

That is also why criticism of IVE's ₩66,000 exhibition matters. While its price cannot be judged without considering the experience offered, complaints arriving alongside the kuji controversy point to broader frustration over how often fans are being asked to spend.

Starship is a business, and there is nothing inherently wrong with profiting from demand surrounding one of its biggest artists. But how many parts of supporting IVE can be separated and monetized before the company should consider whether it is asking too much from the same audience?