Why Is My Hero Academia Losing Popularity Among Longtime Fans

Since its debut in 2014, *My Hero Academia* has stood as a flagship title in modern shonen anime, capturing global attention with its vibrant world-building, dynamic characters, and themes of legacy and heroism. For years, it held a dominant position in the anime landscape, rivaling long-standing giants like *Naruto* and *One Piece*. Yet, in recent seasons and manga arcs, a noticeable shift has occurred: longtime fans are disengaging. While casual viewers may still tune in, the core audience that once passionately debated theories, celebrated character growth, and supported merchandise is increasingly vocal about their disillusionment. This decline isn’t sudden—it’s the result of evolving storytelling choices, pacing issues, and creative decisions that have gradually alienated the very fans who helped propel the series to fame.

Shifting Narrative Focus and Character Development

One of the most consistent criticisms from longtime fans centers on the changing direction of character arcs—particularly the protagonist, Izuku Midoriya. In the early seasons, Deku was portrayed as an underdog whose determination, intellect, and empathy set him apart. His journey from quirkless boy to UA Academy student was emotionally resonant and earned widespread admiration. However, as the series progressed, his role shifted from relatable everyman to a near-mythical figure destined to inherit All Might’s legacy—and eventually surpass it.

This transformation, while narratively ambitious, has come at the cost of relatability. Deku now frequently enters states of near-unconscious power (such as \"FA,\" or Fullbring Awakened), where he acts more as a vessel for overwhelming strength than as a thinking, feeling hero. Fans argue that this diminishes the core tenet of the series: that heroes succeed through courage, strategy, and heart—not just raw power.

Meanwhile, supporting characters who once had compelling individual arcs—such as Ochaco Uraraka, Tenya Iida, and Tsuyu Asui—have seen their development stall or become secondary to large-scale battles. The League of Villains, once complex antagonists with philosophical motivations, were largely replaced by the more abstract and less personal threat of Shigaraki’s evolution and All For One’s machinations. This shift reduced narrative tension and emotional investment.

Tip: A strong story balances power progression with emotional stakes—when characters stop growing beyond their abilities, audiences lose connection.

Pacing and Overreliance on Power Escalation

The pacing of *My Hero Academia*, especially in its later manga arcs and anime adaptations, has drawn increasing scrutiny. Storylines that could be resolved in a few chapters stretch across dozens, filled with repetitive training montages, internal monologues, and extended fight sequences that prioritize spectacle over substance. The \"Paranormal Liberation War\" arc, while ambitious in scope, lasted over 30 chapters and featured graphic violence that clashed with the series’ originally hopeful tone.

Worse, the escalation of power levels has reached a point of diminishing returns. Quirks that once felt grounded in creative limitations now border on reality-warping. Characters regularly survive fatal injuries, regenerate limbs, or unlock new forms mid-battle—undermining both stakes and logic. When every fight ends with a last-minute power-up or deus ex machina intervention, tension evaporates.

Fans miss the earlier days when victories were earned through clever tactics—like Deku using blackwhip to redirect attacks or Mineta using sweatballs to disable enemies. Now, solutions often involve unlocking 5% more of a quirk or receiving a cryptic message from a past user.

“Power fantasy without consequence stops being compelling. We don’t need stronger heroes—we need more meaningful choices.” — Kenji Tanaka, Anime Critic & Columnist for *Otaku Review Weekly*

Decline in Thematic Consistency

At its peak, *My Hero Academia* explored nuanced questions: What does it mean to be a hero in a flawed society? Can systems built on fame and privilege truly serve justice? Early arcs critiqued hero corporatization, media sensationalism, and the psychological toll of constant performance. But as the story pivoted toward all-out war and apocalyptic threats, these themes faded into the background.

The original vision—a world where heroism is accessible, imperfect, and constantly redefined—has given way to a binary conflict between absolute good and absolute evil. Characters like Stain, who challenged the status quo with radical ideology, offered rich philosophical debate. Today’s villains act more out of inherited trauma or manipulation than coherent belief, reducing moral complexity.

Moreover, the series’ treatment of trauma has become inconsistent. While it shows characters breaking under pressure—Midoriya’s self-destructive tendencies, Bakugo’s rage, Toga’s dissociation—it rarely follows through with healing or resolution. Instead, trauma is used as a justification for power-ups or dramatic breakdowns, then quickly shelved when the next battle begins.

Do’s and Don’ts in Shonen Storytelling

Do	Don't
Develop characters through choices, not just powers	Rely on sudden transformations to resolve conflicts
Maintain thematic continuity across arcs	Introduce ideas then abandon them
Balanced screen time for ensemble cast	Focus exclusively on protagonist
Use stakes that feel real and lasting	Revive characters with no consequences
Allow heroes to fail meaningfully	Make protagonists invincible through plot armor

Community Fatigue and Franchise Overexposure

Longtime fans didn’t just grow distant due to story issues—they also experienced burnout from overexposure. Since 2016, *My Hero Academia* has released multiple anime seasons, films, spin-offs (*My Hero Academia: Vigilantes*), video games, and endless merchandise. While commercial success is expected, the relentless output diluted the impact of major events.

The movies, once anticipated highlights, began feeling formulaic—featuring original villains with no ties to the main plot, reset by the end with no lasting effect. This “canon-light” approach made them enjoyable but inconsequential, training fans to view even major battles as temporary diversions rather than pivotal moments.

Social media discourse also contributed to fatigue. Online communities became polarized, with intense debates over ship wars, power rankings, and perceived favoritism toward certain characters. Toxic positivity—where any criticism was labeled “hatin’”—made honest discussion difficult. Many mature fans simply withdrew from conversations altogether.

A Real Fan’s Journey: From Devotion to Disengagement

Lena, a 27-year-old fan from Toronto, started watching *My Hero Academia* during her first year of university. She joined a campus anime club, cosplayed as Momo, and pre-ordered every Blu-ray. “Season 3 was my favorite,” she recalls. “The U.A. Sports Festival, the forest training camp, even the lesser-known students got moments to shine.”

But after Season 5, her enthusiasm waned. “I stopped keeping up weekly. The fights got longer, but they didn’t feel more exciting. Deku kept getting hurt, and no one seemed to learn from anything. By the time Shigaraki woke up and started destroying cities, it just felt… empty.”

She tried returning for the final season announcement but found herself unmoved. “It’s not that I hate it. I’m grateful for the memories. But it doesn’t feel like the show I fell in love with.” Lena’s experience reflects a broader trend: not rejection, but quiet departure.

Comparison to Other Shonen Series

To understand *My Hero Academia*’s current standing, it helps to compare its trajectory to other long-running shonen titles. *Demon Slayer*, though newer, maintained tight pacing and visual consistency, concluding its main story before overstaying its welcome. *Jujutsu Kaisen* introduced darker themes without abandoning character depth, and its antagonist, Sukuna, remains a persistent, intelligent threat—not just a force of destruction.

Even *One Piece*, which has run for decades, manages to balance episodic adventures with overarching lore and character growth. Each crew member continues to evolve, and the world expands meaningfully. In contrast, *My Hero Academia*’s post-timeskip world feels smaller—focused almost entirely on a handful of characters amidst endless combat.

Kohei Horikoshi, the creator, has acknowledged the difficulty of wrapping up such a complex narrative. In a 2022 interview with *Shonen Jump*, he stated: “Finishing a series is harder than starting one. You want to honor every character’s journey, but space and time are limited.” This sentiment rings true, but fans feel that prioritizing action over closure has compromised the ending’s emotional payoff.

Actionable Checklist for Re-engaging Fans

• ✅ Return focus to character-driven storytelling, not just battles
• ✅ Resolve lingering arcs for underdeveloped students (e.g., Koji, Nejire)
• ✅ Address systemic issues in the hero society, not just defeat villains
• ✅ Allow protagonists to fail and face lasting consequences
• ✅ Reduce reliance on power-ups and internal energy forms
• ✅ Explore civilian perspectives and societal recovery post-war
• ✅ Give side characters meaningful roles in the finale

Frequently Asked Questions

Is My Hero Academia really declining in popularity?

Yes, in terms of core fan engagement. While viewership numbers remain relatively high due to global streaming access, community discussions, fan art production, and merchandise sales among dedicated fans have noticeably decreased since 2021. Polls and social sentiment analyses reflect growing dissatisfaction with the story’s direction.

Will the final season win back lost fans?

Possibility exists, but depends on execution. If the finale emphasizes emotional closure, revisits core themes, and gives meaningful resolutions to secondary characters, it could restore goodwill. However, if it follows the pattern of prolonged battles and last-minute awakenings, many may remain detached.

Are there still positive aspects of the current story?

Absolutely. The animation quality by Bones Studio remains exceptional. Certain character moments—like Best Jeanist’s return or Recovery Girl’s leadership—have been praised. Additionally, the exploration of trauma and identity in characters like Twice and Rumi Usagiyama added depth. The issue isn’t lack of亮点, but imbalance in how those moments are integrated.

Conclusion: A Legacy in Transition

*My Hero Academia* will undoubtedly be remembered as one of the defining shonen series of the 2010s. It revitalized superhero narratives in anime, inspired countless creators, and gave voice to themes of perseverance and empathy. But its current struggle reflects a common challenge in long-form storytelling: maintaining authenticity as scale increases.

The loss of longtime fans isn’t a failure of ambition—it’s a symptom of misplaced priorities. When character depth yields to spectacle, when trauma becomes a plot device rather than a catalyst for growth, and when the world feels too chaotic to care about, audiences naturally step back. They’re not abandoning the series out of dislike, but out of respect for what it once was.

For those still invested, the final arc offers one last chance to reclaim that spirit. To focus not on who can hit hardest, but who chooses to help—even when broken. To celebrate not just victory, but the quiet courage of ordinary people rebuilding a shattered world. That was the promise of *My Hero Academia*. And if the ending honors it, even those who left may look back with pride.

💬 What do you think? Have you stayed loyal to My Hero Academia, or did something change your view? Share your thoughts and let’s discuss what truly makes a hero.