On Current Events

“The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world.” -Paul Farmer

My thoughts on seperating art from the artist:

Over the past several years, JK Rowling has made her position as a trans-exclusionary radical feminist quite clear. More recently, she was involved in a Twitter exchange:

Her message seems clear; monetary support matters more to her than the critiques of a community she’s hurt. An absolute garbage response that is on its own, and it naturally follows to discuss the age old debate of separating art from the artist, which has never been simple.

One the one hand: as we’ve been reminded (in the worst way possible) it is impossible to separate purchasing merchandise related to an IP without showing a form of endorsement for that artist; in addition, for individuals who are not members of the condemned minority (in this particular case, primarily trans/enby folks, though JKR has had questionable takes on race, sexuality, etc. as well) separating art from the artist is an act of privilege; those who are not directly attacked by the author’s platform will not face the direct repercussions of funding, encouraging, or dismissing their influence.

On the other hand; members of the condemned minority may have their own associations with the IPs of these artists, and those associations may be positive, and in some cases important to their identity. Knowing that the artist has attacked them may not change this; they may even view their enjoyment of the IP as an act of defiance, thrown back in the creator’s face. Telling them to NOT separate art from the artist feels similarly problematic, yet their money is still money, and naturally no one person can speak for the entire demographic.

On top of everything else, taking the issue to the extreme of censorship is almost definitely not the answer; on the whole, people should be able to consume content to form their own opinions, even if the content comes with a warning label, and those opinions are informed by discussions with teachers, family, and peers. (It possibly bears mentioning here that, as a gender fluid individual, I still have fond memories of the HP series; my parents read the books to me when I was little, and we continued the tradition as I grew up. Though I’m not very invested in the books anymore, those loving associations still mean something to me, and I truly hate that it’s been somewhat tainted by JKR’s assholery.) So what to do? Is there an absolutely moral decision here? Perhaps not. But this is how I’ve chosen to proceed:

1) I don’t monetarily support problematic artists. I may buy IP related content after they pass away, however, when they no longer benefit (unless the inheritors of the IP continue to espouse their ideals).

2) I am vocal about the artist’s problematic behaviors, and am prepared to explain said behaviors to those who are unaware.

3) I don’t judge people for enjoying the art*; per point two, I may discuss the creator’s behaviors and, per point 1, sway them from direct support, but I don’t diminish the value that the art has to them. If they can take something good from it and turn that into further good in their life and the lives of those they care about, who am I to stop them? If, of course, the elements of the art that they value are the harmful/hateful elements, that'll be a very different discussion.

4) When someone else tells me the reasons an artist is problematic, I listen. This, to me, is an important piece of the puzzle, because unless we are willing to change our behaviors based on evidence, we can’t expect others—or problematic creators—to do the same.

I’m sure this approach has its problems, but it’s the best I’ve come up with so far. As a side note, there are always ways of acquiring content without paying the creator; in most circumstances, I strongly discourage this sort of thing, but for those who could not otherwise afford to purchase the content/ art in question, or, in situations where the artist has shown a disregard for their community/readership... well.

Perhaps it is a little late to be speaking on the pandemic, so I'll keep this brief: it's not over. Look out for yourselves, your family, your friends, and the strangers affected by your choices. Wear your masks, keep your distance, get vaccinated. The more we do now, the less we will lose down the road.

Update: Everyone who voted, thank you. We have averted some immediate crises. There is still work to be done.

I despise the electoral college. I despise the fact that not voting for one of two parties is essentially throwing your vote away. I despise the control that corporations have over the US. And yeah, I'm not thrilled about the choice of candidates, but to not vote Biden/Harris right now is nothing more than a brazen statement of your own privilege. You are saying that you can continue to be just fine in this system that is abusing, mutilating, and killing others. This is not hypothetical philosophy concerning the "lesser of two evils;" this is the real goddamn world, and one of those evils is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands, not to mention the unrestrained destruction of our fucking planet.

We need change, and I'll be clear; Biden/Harris are not that change, but they NEED to happen if we want to get anywhere close to the real leaps in progress that MUST happen in the next few years, before we're faced with complete genocide, or another World War, or an irreversable calamity in Earth's climate.

I'm holding onto hope; it's not stupid, or naive, or weak to do so. It's painful, and it is necessary. We need something to live for. We need a future to move towards. We need a world to believe in. To sneer like a cynic doesn't mean you're smart—it means you've been hurt, and scared, and that rather than experience loss again, you'd rather pretend you have nothing to lose.

Tell me: has that been better? Are you any less empty for it?

If our votes don't count, let the numbers show it in droves so that when we scream against the system, the world can't turn a blind eye; so that when we need our anger to move us, it boils over in excess across the map; so that when we face the great struggles of our lifetime, we know we did everything to make a difference; so that when we do make a difference, we know that we can do it again.

We are in the midst of a dozen crises or more that disproportionately affect certain demographics: people of color, indigenous peoples, the LGBT+ community, low income households, women, the neurodivergent, and the elderly, to name a few, in no particular order. And as those groups have attempted to speak up, to say that their rights, health, and welfare are under threat, many amongst the majority scream, "But why are you ignoring our rights? We matter too!"

This entirely misses the point—and I say this as someone who does not identify among most of the demographics listed above. Of course, all lives should have the same weight. The problem is, our system is not reflecting that, and until it does, the stage must be given to those that it punishes.

Generally, humans have trended towards embracing diversity more and more as time goes on, even if right now that seems the furthest thing from the truth. And perhaps one day, we will reach a moment where saying "All Lives Matter" will be accurate, rather than a reaction of the privileged when confronted with the reality—and consequent guilt—of perpetuating a society that slants the odds in our favor. Right now, that statement—which seems on the surface to be a humanitarian war cry—shows only that we are scared to admit countless wrongdoings, and worse yet, that we are scared to undertake the duty of fixing them. Because yes, it is going to take effort to amend what has been broken for centuries. Bigotry has momentum; it will not stop by its own volition.

When I quote Paul Farmer, who has dedicated his life to helping communities under threat, it is to draw attention to the fact that some people are treated as less than human, and that this must come to an end. Do what you can. Listen to the marginalized when they speak. Do your research, donate to causes, sign petitions, vote, protest, show your support in all moments that you can rise to the occasion. Sometimes, you will need to defy a system that you may feel has treated you fairly. Know in your heart that is not the case for everyone.

Silence favors the oppressor. Neutrality favors the oppressor. Denial favors the oppressor.

It's hard to admit privilege. It's hard to look at your life and realize that you didn't "earn" all of it by being smarter, stronger, braver, or better than the competition. Sometimes, you were lucky. Sometimes, you had help. Sometimes, you were born a certain way, and it gave you an advantage. Accepting this doesn't take away what you're capable of. It doesn't take away your acheivments, your mastery of a field, or your accolades. In all likelihood, you've faced struggles of your own, and you've worked hard. No one is trying to devalue that. You do not have to feel self-loathing or guilt when you acknowledge that you had privilege. That, in and of itself, is not a condemnation.

Now it's your obligation to use that privilege to help those without it. To call attention to maginalized voices, and when they finally have the chance to speak their piece, to affect the change they call for.

A final note. Some people are going to claim that none of this is accurate. That everyone can shape their life into whatever they want it to be regardless of circumstance, and that those who fail to do so get only what they deserve. Ironically, these are often the same people that will tell you "life isn't fair," with a faint aura of smugness. Now, the misguidedness of this premise has been explained in a thousand better metaphors than I can offer here, and shown in statistic after statistic. Some people are going to ignore all of that. Their confirmation bias is giving them an answer they like better, because it makes them feel more comfortable. (The oppressor likes this too, and will do its best to feed that bias whatever it desires, to its own ends.) Certain events can cause a change in perspective—for instance, in the wake of COVID-19, a number of people are suddenly interested in the idea of universal healthcare. But those changes in global conciousness can be difficult to manufacture, and the situations that cause them are often led by shock and destruction, something it would be best not to wait for. The upshot is, sometimes, you can change people's minds. Sometimes, you can't.

Speak up anyway. Some people are confused, and trying to understand. Some have their hearts in the right place, but have yet to synchronize it with their actions. Some will be moved by passion, others by compassion, others by art, others by science. At the very least, the youngest generations are listening to us argue, and children are not as simple as we like to pretend.

If we are going to teach them that all lives matter, let's do our part to make it a reality.