Imagine you are standing on the bank of a tranquil lake in the blue light just after dawn, before the sun has crept over the horizon to chase away the subtle mist that has enshrouded the landscape. You are there alone, peering at your dancing reflection on the glassy water, challenging yourself to make a difference in a hostile world. Next to you, nestled against your shoe rests a rock smoothed by millennia of erosion. You bend down and pick it up to study its curious markings before tossing it into the pond. Apart from scaring the fish and royally angering the ducks, what does this action accomplish?
It depends on how you define accomplishment, but it likely won’t change much.
As Mother Teresa once reflected, “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”
Now you are standing at the bank of the lake among a crowd of millions, each heaving a stone into the waters. One small rock may not alter the vicinity much, but millions? Even in a lake, that can cause an impressive tidal wave.
Your voice is that rock you found next to your shoe. Casting it into the water may create an interesting effect, but now you can no longer see your reflection. The entire surface of the water has transformed into a frothing sea of lapping waves.
This year has wrought some traumatic lessons in our society. If it isn’t the pandemic, it’s the racial strife, or some other peril. Some on the internet have joked that we should cancel 2020. It’s certainly fitting, is it not?
The topic of ‘cancel culture’ has erupted in nearly every corner of the internet and seemingly nothing is safe from its raging torrent. It has caused a mania as obsessive as the news coverage of the COVID-19 pandemic.
But is ‘cancel culture’ really a thing? Human nature prods us to internalize everything and to defend ourselves from the consequences of our actions. Celebrities, politicians, and CEOs are human and as, such, occasionally say some outlandish and offensive things, some of which we don’t see as particularly grievous for one reason or another. Does the offending party deserve to lose his entire life over some ill-advised words?
In my mind, it depends on the offense. Bill Cosby’s and Harvey Weinstein’s transgressions landed them in prison. Outrage over words tarnishes many in the public eye, even the venerable JK Rowling. Does she deserve the treatment she’s receiving?
We like to toss around blame for when someone misinterprets our words. If you are a writer, misinterpretation is all your fault. If your words are constantly being taken out of context, you need a new context. Claiming misunderstanding is but one defense in the arsenal people use to defend themselves. “Excuses are like armpits,” they say. “Everyone has them and they all stink.” What would happen if instead of exercising outrage, one practiced empathy and forgiveness?
I like to think that the surface of the lake will be just a bit less choppy without those negative reactions. When someone says something offensive to me, I tend to shrug it off. Such antics, after all, speak more about the offender than the victim. But when words and actions violate the tranquility of others—those seeking only to enjoy the calm—I tend to speak out.
Sarah Hagi, a writer from Toronto, published a column in Time, in which she described the issue of ‘cancel culture,’ saying, “It over simplifies. The term is used in so many contexts that it’s rendered meaningless precludes a nuanced discussion of the specific harm done and how those who did it should be held accountable.”
Hagi puts it succinctly enough that I can find no realistic way to expound on it, other than by digging up another quote, which I know you all love.
Winston Churchill said it best when he opined, “Everyone is in favor of free speech. Hardly a day passes without its being extolled, but some people’s idea of it is that they are free to say what they like, but if anyone else says anything back, that is an outrage.”
Humility and compassion would be a great cure for what ails us. To step back and to understand the opinions of others and what offends them, we must practice empathy. ‘Cancel culture’ is a phenomenon that will not abate until people stop harming others.
We should expect those in positions of authority or fame to mind their public statements because it creates more trust between all parties. This street runs two ways. In the past, many celebrities have apologized for hurtful words. We don’t have to ‘cancel’ them for messing up—we all err. If we feel that person has adequately atoned, we should find it in our hearts to forgive him or her.
Let us cast empathy and compassion into the water. With enough of us, we can change the world one stone at a time.