Justin Bieber has been a magnet for controversy lately. But his decision to forego the traditional celebrity damage control routes and instead let his music do the talking might be his most brilliant move yet.
On Thursday, Bieber shocked fans by announcing that his new album, “Swag,” would arrive in less than 24 hours. As his first full-length release in over four years following 2021’s tone-deaf misfire “Justice,” the announcement was met with equal parts excitement and wariness.
A surprise drop — no hype, no hit single, no rollout campaign — is always a high-stakes, high-reward gambit. The singer’s latest headline-making antics only intensified the risk.
It started last summer, when Bieber’s split from his longtime team — including mega-manager Scooter Braun, who discovered Bieber when he was a tween — sparked speculation over the pop star’s future. Since then, Bieber’s social media posts and interactions with the paparazzi have struck many fans, media outlets, and even former confidants as concerning.
“Seeing him disintegrate like this… It’s watching the embodiment of someone not living their purpose,” one of Bieber’s ex-team members, who was granted anonymity, told The Hollywood Reporter in an April piece titled “Justin Bieber’s Crisis of Faith.” “He’s lost.”
Since the publication of that report, Bieber has continued to go viral for all the wrong reasons. When his wife, Hailey Bieber (née Baldwin), landed the cover of Vogue in May, her husband publicly undermined the accomplishment. “I told hails that she would never be on the cover of vogue. Yikes I know, so mean,” he wrote on Instagram.
In June, Bieber confronted photographers in Malibu with a gush of now-infamous, internet-brained gibberish: “It’s not clocking to you that I’m standing on business.”
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All of this didn’t provide the best backdrop for new music from the singer. But as Eric Schiffer, a PR expert and chairman of Reputation Management Consultants, told me of Katy Perry’s botched comeback last year, a miraculous amount of ill will can be swept under the rug by one good song, never mind an album full of them. “It’s achievable if the quality is there,” Schiffer said. “Ultimately, that’s the driver.”
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On “Swag,” Bieber is not subtle about his intentions to win back public favor. Nearly 10 years after he sang “Don’t forget that I’m human,” and “Is it too late now to say sorry?” on an album literally called “Purpose,” Bieber closes his newest album with an outro titled “Forgiveness,” helmed by pastor and gospel singer Marvin Winans.
Bieber has often used his music to petition for tolerance and compassion — particularly when it serves to absolve his own behavior — but for the first time in a decade, that strategy has paid off.
“Swag” uses spoken-word interludes to address both Bieber’s eyebrow-raising social media posts and frantic run-ins with paparazzi. “Therapy Session” and “Standing on Business” offer clips of recorded conversations with the comedian Druski, who reassures Bieber that he’s “just being a human being.”
“It’s feeling like, you know, I have had to go through a lot of my struggles as a human — as all of us do — really publicly,” Bieber says in the former. “People are always asking if I’m OK, and that starts to really weigh on me.”
It’s not repentance, per se, and it’s a brief moment in a 21-track album — but it’s a much-needed glimmer of self-reflection.
These interludes, which appear alongside truly excellent R&B-pop songs like “Yukon,” “Butterflies,” and “Walking Away,” enable Bieber to say his piece on his own terms while reminding fans why they fell in love with him in the first place — his extraordinary vocal talent and his keen ear for catchy melodies. Plus, a new album means the media narrative has now refocused on Bieber as a singer and artist, rather than the loose cannon with a tendency to overshare online.
For a musician like Bieber, who has long infused his songs with confessions, apologies, and even personalized sermons from his real-life pastor, Judah Smith, it’s expected that his music will reflect his values. Fans won’t be surprised to find the album peppered with mini therapy sessions; Bieber has the luxury to process mistakes and complex emotions through his art. Addressing controversy via his lyrics naturally comes across as more sincere than an over-rehearsed, influencer-style “accountability video” or a public apology typed up in the Notes app.
Of course, there’s the added benefit of creative control. Unlike an interview with a journalist or a statement co-crafted with a publicist, Bieber is able to dictate the structure and focus of his own album, largely free from compromise or interference. Producers and collaborators are expected to mold their work to fit his vision, not the other way around. At most, Bieber might need to worry about objections from Def Jam, his record label — but after earning dozens of top-10 hits and eight No. 1 albums on the Billboard 200, his first when he was just 16 years old, Bieber has likely earned a long leash in exchange.
The minimal promotion and fanfare surrounding the album’s release strengthens its core thesis: Bieber doesn’t need to over-explain or defend his actions to the media, as long as he can express himself in song. For someone whose career has been splattered with PR flubs and missteps, “Swag” is a refreshingly smart move.
