“You see I believe in freedom. Not many people do, although they will of course protest otherwise. And no practical definition of freedom would be complete without the freedom to take the consequences. Indeed, it is the freedom upon which all the others are based.”
Going Postal, Terry Pratchett
You ever notice how it wasn’t called cancel culture until it started coming for bullies and predators instead of their victims?
In fact, the term came into wide usage around the same time as #MeToo.
Here’s the thing.
Harvey Weinstein, as an example, was not cancelled. He’s just being held accountable for decades of sexual abuse. Actress Mira Sorvino was cancelled – by Weinstein, for refusing his advances. He comes from a long line of powerful men, not just in Hollywood, but in general who abuse wealth and power or perceived artistry and genius to exploit others, and punish anyone who stands up to them.
In the wake of #MeToo, people worried cancel culture was going too far. An OpEd came out extolling other people to provide sexual predators with a path forward rather than expecting them to do the work of redemption themselves, even as most sexual assaults continued to go unpunished. Louis C.K. lost his TV show when he was outed for sexual misconduct, but rather than make amends, he began to make light in his standup.
Yeah, he still does standup. About being cancelled.
Other comedians are scoring their own lucrative deals for unoriginal comedy specials whining about cancel culture without irony. They aren’t predators, but some have been accused of bullying. They conflate criticism of outdated humor with cancellation. I think Jerry Seinfeld makes, like, a million dollars every time he says “and what is the deal with cancel culture?”
In Hollywood especially, people have always been cancelled for one reason or another, like, I dunno, aging, and the response has always been “that’s just business”. But Disney fires an “actress” – before she became controversial, most conversations addressed her wooden performance – for abusing her heightened social media presence by spreading dangerous disinformation and hate speech to the detriment of their brand, and some feign dismay at the influence of consumers and the power of private corporations.
Weirdly a lot of them are the same people asking everyone to move on from the attempted coup on January 6th for the sake of unity and healing (because nothing promotes healing like ignoring a festering wound). And it wasn’t just an attempted coup. They were there to murder people like House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and former Vice President Mike Pence over the lie of a stolen election. I don’t think it gets much more “cancelled” than dead. Then again, the actress was among those pushing disinformation that contributed to the coup so maybe it’s not that weird after all.
It’s not that these people oppose cancel culture. They’re just mad about losing control over it.
Personally, I look back on a childhood of walking on eggshells around the same people who whine about political correctness now, and getting picked apart for every little trivial thing, and being socially isolated or bullied and harassed for good grades and bad looks or keeping to myself, even in college by alleged adults. People always told me I needed to develop thicker skin so it’s hard for me to empathize with people who want to mistreat others, and get coddled in return.
Don’t dish it if you can’t take it, as the saying goes.
And if the cognitive dissonance enrages my inner child, I can’t imagine what it feels like to people who have been disowned by their families for being LGBTQ or ostracized by their communities for being victims of sexual assault. Nevermind people who have died – again, the ultimate cancellation – and won’t have the opportunity to share their feelings.
Look, I get it.
I work in education and live in a small rural town. I’m very outspoken, and a bit of an oddball. I worry about my day job all the time, but I’m still the same person who was almost written up in school for refusing to participate in a balloon release. My concerns don’t stop me from speaking out. They help to keep me honest. I do my homework. I think before I speak.
In fact, T.H.I.N.K. is one of those acronyms I really latched on to. It’s just so darn tidy and concise.
Is it true?
Is it helpful?
Is it intelligent?
Is it necessary?
Is it kind?
That last one is relative. I have no qualms about punching up (I’m speaking metaphorically). I still chose my words carefully, but there’s a difference in how I address people in a position of power. They may not find my directness kind, but I confront them as a kindness to those they hurt.
I prefer living with the consequences of upholding my values to those of falling short – even if the former sometimes feels more punishing than the latter, and the only reward is being at peace with myself. It’s a calculated risk.
To the risk adverse, I say “suck it up, buttercup”.
And maybe question if your fears indicate a need to reflect on your words and actions. Personal accountability is a good thing.
