We can do better than cancel culture
(Courtesy of Trina Mitra)
Student Trina Mitra explains how to hold people accountable in a way that promotes real change.
We don’t often see powerful people face consequences for their problematic behavior. Cancel culture promises to change that.
In theory, the social practice of cancellation is a way to hold prolific people accountable for the things they say and do. If a celebrity makes an offensive statement, their fans can choose to boycott or “cancel” them and their work in hopes of creating retribution for their actions, perhaps even ending their career. Many people believe it is an effective way to fight injustice because social media empowers people instead of institutions. You don’t need social capital, financial stability or industrial qualification to punish someone for their actions — anyone on the internet has the power to do it.
But I think cancel culture falls short of this ideal. Real, systemic change requires us to engage with the issues we care about and work to win over the other side — not eliminate it. By outlawing dialogue between people who disagree, cancel culture denies people their right to learn from their mistakes. If someone falters once, they’re out and there’s no coming back.
Obama on call-out culture is such an anthem for our times. pic.twitter.com/NazrLqH5rL
— Stig Abell (@StigAbell) June 13, 2020
We tend to think that cancelling someone will make them reconsider their harmful actions, but this is false. Professor Brené Brown — who has spent two decades researching how people learn and make positive changes to their behavior — says that shame is not constructive in this regard. “We think that shaming is a great moral compass, that we can shame people into being better, but that’s not true,” she explains in an episode of her podcast, “Unlocking Us.” In fact, shame often makes people more resistant to change. To truly change someone, Brown says, we have to tap into their conscience by explaining where they went wrong and how their actions hurt others.
Furthermore, by pressuring people to be politically agreeable at all times, cancel culture does not address the root cause of an issue as much as it does the optics of it. When we cancel someone for saying something offensive, we condemn their personal failure more than the larger institutional problem. This teaches people that seeming socially aware is more important than being socially aware. Consider a conversation about racism where one person says something hurtful, offensive or incorrect. Following cancel culture, we’d be tempted to cancel that person for their mistake. But by doing that, we not only miss out on the opportunity to help them learn and do better, but we also fail to discuss the systemic issue that is at the root of their behavior: White supremacy. If we want to create meaningful social change, we have to look at how systems — not just individuals — are failing.
Though celebrities are its main target, cancel culture affects us all. When I talk to my friends, it’s clear to me how afraid everyone is of being cancelled. Often people who cancel others assume a sense of moral superiority; they believe the things they say are indisputably right, and anything to the contrary is wrong. Watching these people bully others for their mistakes makes us cautious to the point where we may not even be our authentic selves. In my own peer groups, I have seen friends and acquaintances shy away from conversations despite having opinions on them because they think their thoughts won’t be welcome. They are so afraid of cancellation that they’d rather remain silent than participate in fruitful conversation. I think this goes against the very ethos of friendships; friends are meant to engage each other and help one another grow. By upholding artificial versions of ourselves and creating echo chambers for those we care about, we are doing a disservice both to our friends and to the larger discourse on social issues.
Cancelling a person often seems like an easy way to hold them accountable for their words and actions when other institutions fail to do so. But it doesn’t deliver meaningful change — nor does it usually result in professional repercussions. Woody Allen still shoots films, Karan Johar still runs the biggest production house in India, Aamna Ilyas is still at the helm of Pakistan’s modelling industry and Ellen DeGeneres still hosts her talk show. If social justice is our end goal, we have to challenge people’s opinions, address their behaviors’ root causes and give them a chance to learn from their mistakes and change. For example, in 2020, a video resurfaced of Jimmy Fallon impersonating Chris Rock in Blackface during a 2000 SNL skit. Fallon took to Twitter to apologize and promised to do and be better. Since then, he has used his show to engage Black leaders like filmmaker Spike Lee, journalist Don Lemon and NAACP president and CEO, Derrick Johnson in frank, on-air conversations about White supremacy and the movement to end racist police violence. If Fallon had been cancelled, he wouldn’t have had a platform to amplify their work and educate his audience on these issues.
When Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie recounts the story of her father’s books all being set on fire in Nigeria’s civil war, it’s easy to see why she opposes censorship - including via the intense social pressure/disproportionate retribution of ‘cancel culture’. https://t.co/OZlkWia5ol
— Sister Outrider (@ClaireShrugged) November 14, 2020
When I feel angry about someone’s behavior, I take a step back and ask myself: Who am I to cancel them? If I made a mistake, would I like to be treated the way I intend to treat the person I’m cancelling? Probably not. If someone disagreed with something I’d said or done, I’d want them to engage me in discourse and explain why I was wrong. I want to be held accountable so I can do better in the future — and I believe other people do too.
We all make mistakes. But, in most cases, I don’t believe they should define us forever. That’s why I ascribe to Jameela Jamil’s declaration of being a feminist-in-progress. To me, that term represents my desire to create a better and equal world, while acknowledging that I will make mistakes along the way. My thoughts aren’t absolute, they are open to change because I am still learning. I have books to read, ideas to explore and experiences to have — as do we all. Let’s build a system of accountability that champions growth and leaves space for betterment.
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