What is J. Cole’s beef with “cancel culture”?
If you’re a hip hop fan like me you know J. Cole has been at the center (literally caught in the middle) of attention in the most recent flare-up among the so-called “Big Three”.
If you didn’t know, a longstanding cold war between Kendrick and Drake has boiled over — seemingly agitated by Drake and Cole’s 2023 hit “First Person Shooter” where they exchange claims at the top spot, and Cole mentions K. Dot as a member of “The Big Three”. Kung Fu Kenny didn’t like that…and has for a long time really not liked Drake…so the beef erupted and has yet to settle.
In the fray, J. Cole got hit with essentially stray bullets as Kendrick talked his shit on “Like That”, a resounding feature with Future on “We Don’t Trust You”. Cole responded!
Weeks later Cole would drop “Might Delete Later”, with “7 Minute Drill” and several other jabs presumably at Kendrick scattered throughout the project. It seems like most fans were pretty hype about this project, some even despite Cole’s decision to bow out of the competition. “Pi” was certainly a fan-favorite, a bar-studded nearly six minute showcase featuring Ab-Soul and Daylyt. And while some listeners focused on the intricate lyrical content, and others have rightfully shared outrage at Cole’s transphobic lyrics, the song piqued my interest for other reasons.
Namely, Jermaine once again drops a mention of cancel culture on the song.
This line seemingly slipped out of focus for most listeners and admittedly there were more notable lines to discuss — but it always triggers my curiosity when I hear Black people mention cancel culture. Let me back up and talk about that term real quick.
“Cancel culture” has been much discussed in mainstream media, mostly propagated as a right-wing rage bait. Following the #MeTooMovement and #BlackLivesMatter uprisings, there was of course a regressive white backlash to any sort of progress around racial and gender oppression. A part of that backlash is a predictable rebuke of any glimpses of marginalized people exercising any sort of power against or over their oppressors. In the present day, we’ve since seen this in their bastardization of “woke” “DEI” “anti-racist” and before all of that…. “cancel culture” and before that “political correctness” — treating these phenomena with such disingenuous framing and disgust that they become a stand-in for slurs.
It is impossible to understand this counterinsurgent backlash without understanding misogynoir. After all, the term “social justice warrior” as a pejorative evokes images of who? Probably not men. And Black women and Black people with marginalized gender identity coined the intersectional analysis that would ultimately become the signature for “social justice warriors” — whether well-represented or not. Even mis-informed neoliberal white women who inaccurately and shallowly espouse these ideas cite Black women. A Black woman, Tarana Burke, is a key figure in kicking off the MeTooMovement. So, it is safe to say that the backlash is to the revolutionary political projects often put forth and stewarded by Black women, femmes, and genderqueer folks — misogynoir.
To understand contemporary use of the term “cancel culture” is to understand the ways conservatives and liberals alike are resentful of any sort of meaningful “progress”.
The anxiety around “being cancelled” was especially discussed by white men who were, in a few instances, experiencing *some* consequences for sexual misconduct and gender-based violence (Weinstein, Louis CK, etc). Similarly, white people more broadly became extra sensitive about the myth that their racist, anti-Black aggressions might…somehow… in turn impact them.
But it didn’t just stop there.
The #MeTooMovement would also make space for victims of some prominent Black men, and just as expected there were some (too many, really) Black men that expressed deep concern about the consequences of the survivors’ visibility. Rather than focusing on the needs of victims and survivors, their attention gravitated toward protecting the “legacies” of abusers. B. Cosby, R. Kelly, C. Brown, and T. Neverson all come to mind, as well as the mixed (to put it lightly) responses of the community. The negative response of Black men to “cancel culture” really took hold.
And it’s not like it is just on twitter — many prominent Black male comedians, scholars, commentators, athletes and rappers have weighed in on “cancel culture” — and landed on it being fundamentally “bad for our community”.
Setting aside the important context that most people who are “canceled” end up financially fine, setting aside the fact that what’s being framed as “cancellation” is often quite literally just consequences for antisocial, harmful behavior, and setting aside the fact that marginalized people do not somehow all of a sudden have systemic power to *actually* “cancel” anyone…
J. Cole has actually been one of the more prominent rappers who continue to touch on this subject. In 2019 for XXL the Fayetteville rapper talked about his feelings about cancel culture, and affinity for XXXTentacion despite the allegations of his history of abuses:
“I understand outrage. So I don’t know. If anything, it kind of makes me want to be even more empathetic to people that the world considers to be undesirable,” he explained. “Because we live in a world where everybody wants to be so quick to cancel somebody. But at the same time, people condemn the criminal justice system, which is entirely the cancellation system. To me, both of those ideas are f*cked up, like, ‘We’re throwing you away.’ […] You’re looking to punish me — and don’t get it twisted, what I did was a punishable offense — but where are you talking about healing me? Where are you going to show me some compassion and some f*cking love?”
In this interview J. Cole compares “cancel culture” with the punitive criminal justice system — claiming there is a throughline of disposal. This is actually a common sentiment among abuse apologists — “where’s the space for healing?” But this makes no fucking sense for several (at least eight) reasons — and it is part of the issue with *maybe* well-intentioned pushback to cancel culture.
- The perpetrators of harm are often unapologetic. Why are we talking about growth and healing in regards to people that are not interested in growth and healing? WHERE IS THE EVIDENCE OF THE GROWTH?
- There’s a glaring lack of concern for victims and survivors. Why are you fuckers never this interested in a victim’s healing? How does J. Cole seemingly manage to not mention the victims/survivors in the entire interview? They’re often treated as side characters and unfortunate casualties in a man’s story.
- Healing doesn’t have to include maintaining a lifestyle of acclaim and adoration. Contrary to popular belief no one is entitled to being a celebrity / being an entertainer / keeping everyone’s support. These people can absolutely heal outside of the spotlight — and live regular lives ..even continue making their art — and that’s okay! WHY do they need to maintain the same platform for this healing to happen? This idea that people were saying X is undesirable is ridiculous — I think the issue is that he was harmfully violent and it doesn’t seem like that is not still true. Is that not cause for concern….?
- Where are the consequences? Okay let’s say we don’t want to dispose of people but we do think there should be consequences — what are they? Going out of your way to support abusive artists quite literally shows up more as a reward for their behavior — especially if it is in RESPONSE to news of their maleficence. Again — how does this land for other people who have survived abuse or violence?
- Accountability/cancellation false dichotomy. The behavior people describe as “cancel culture” is about withdrawing support. Strangers cannot hold someone accountable — but they can send a message to prompt someone to consider accountability. I don’t understand how people think withdrawing support and encouraging others to do the same UNTIL someone shows evidence of accountability is antithetical to the accountability itself.
- J. Cole, like many men, is projecting by using language to identify himself with perpetrators of harm. Did yall clock how he said “don’t get it twisted, what *I* did was a punishable offense”? Why did he use first person pronouns here to get his point across? He is strangely, not-so-subtly identifying with abusers.
- If abusers are “undesirable” then what are their victims? J. Cole talks about having empathy toward those who are undesirable but who is the most disrespected, unprotected, neglected? If we’re talking about un-desirability within the broader culture are Black folks of marginalized gender identities not the least desired? Where is the empathy, then? This is not to suggest that Black men are not the victims of such abuses — I am speaking specifically about the (likely) Black victims of the abusers that Cole has aligned himself with again and again. Victims of violence that speak out are generally treated as pariahs and therefore, again, where is the empathy? Where is the concern about them being disposed of?
- People who make these comparisons often have shallow understanding of transformative justice and prison abolition. J. Cole still doesn’t read.
And if he did he likely would’ve seen and understood some of these counter-points that have long been stated by folks actually involved in social justice organizing.
Nevertheless, nearly five years later, on a track scattered with jabs toward Kendrick Lamar and a transphobic bar, J. Cole once again touches on his discomfort with “cancel culture” — a set of consequences social movement organizers have worked tirelessly for in order to taste any sort of “justice”.
On “Pi” (2024), J. Cole says
“Is you a demon or is that demeanor for the ‘Gram? Tell us
They plead the fifth, I’m seeing hints of a trans fella
In cancel culture’s vicinity, he’s no killer, trust me
Beneath his chosen identity, there is still a pussy, period”
And this isn’t the first time he mentioned a culture that social justice movements asserted:
“One phone call get you canceled like a homophobe in this PC culture” — the climb back (2020)
In this instance, Cole refers to both “cancellation” and “PC” culture or “political correctness”, which you might remember also had conservatives (and eventually some liberals) in a tizzy decades ago. “Political correctness”, mind you, was generally about using language that *isn’t* dehumanizing toward entire groups of people — language that has more-or-less become commonplace since then.
Here it is, a rapper that fans and some hip hop listeners look up to for his social commentary and awareness echoing the anxieties of repressive, anti-Black and misogynistic white supremacists and their followers. This isn’t unique! J. Cole is certainly not the only famous Black entertainer that has an issue with “cancel culture” — one may think of Dave Chapelle — Cole is, however, maybe the most popular “conscious” rapper that has an issue with cancel culture.
And trust me I know I know — as an actual community organizer I don’t think much of what J. Cole says is “conscious” — in fact up until a few weeks ago I even pointed out that J. Cole never described himself as a conscious rapper and that the content of his music isn’t *really* meaningfully reflective of any liberatory struggle. But then I had to eat my words, because like a week ago Future and Metro Boomin released “We Still Don’t Trust You”, and with it the standout track “Red Leather” featuring…you guessed it..the Dreamville rapper himself. On it, J. Cole unfortunately made me eat my words:
“My energy was never on some toughest nigga shit
I was just a conscious rapper that would fuck a nigga bitch”
OH…..a “conscious” rapper?
So there you have it — J. Cole — a self-proclaimed “conscious” rapper has an issue with “PC culture” and “cancel culture” alike. What’s “conscious” about that? On this, he is aligned with the very anti-Black forces he sometimes claims to hate. Because, again, let’s be serious — the spectre of “cancel culture” is simply normal, insufficient consequences for terrible actions, often actions carried out by people who belong to an oppressive class unto marginalized victims. The hysteria around “cancel culture” has been driven, undoubtedly, by conservative right-wing media sources as a reaction to any shift in standards and practice towards justice and healing for victims and survivors.
J. Cole choosing to pray for Tekashi, honor X, court a feature with YB, and embrace Kodak points to just how regressive his politics around gender truly are. That is also true of most prominent male rappers in the game. But honestly, if you’re reading this you likely already knew that. The evidence is all up and through his lyrics. I write this for the rap game that will one day actually be the revolutionary force that niggas claim it is, or once was. I just don’t see how the game will ever be all that while holding such counterinsurgent views and disregard towards Black women and those with marginalized gender identities.
It is completely indefensible to have this much lack of regard for people experiencing intracommunal violence — whether it be domestic violence, sexual violence, workplace harassment or any of the other social ills that the #MeTooMovement seeks to address. It would be great if J. Cole and others like him would attempt to learn from organizers against gender based violence so that they could better understand the myth of “cancel culture” and maybe stop spreading hysteria that is rooted in several forms of oppression. Further — actually donating to the organizations and movement spaces doing this critical work is the bare minimum and one of the most useful things you could do to begin addressing this reckless cultural commentary and broader “concern” for healing in our communities.
All of this said, J. Cole talked about fighting Diddy on the same song (let go my hand, 2021) that he has an audio recording of Diddy praying.
“Lord, please guide our steps
Watch us, cover us
So that every move we make is in alignment with Your will
Your purpose
Please fill us with Your spirit
Keep us forever in the present
For presence makes the strongest fathers
Teach us how to lead
Show us how to love”
The prayers seem to have not yet made their impact. J. Cole’s consistent approach of surrounding himself with unapologetic abusers — and rebuking “cancel culture” — will not age well.
“Cancel culture” is not real, but what is very real is the right’s ability to use hysteria to drive so-called culture wars that end up capturing the hearts of the ill-informed and those primed to be sympathetic to those harming marginalized people. But, these “culture wars” are simply the continued violence of systems of oppression manifesting in our conversations about culture. The people that hate Black people have used their depictions of “cancel culture” to problematize consequences for oppressive behavior — and too many Black rappers and entertainers ate it up. Unless you believe for some reason that these forms of intracommunal, often gender-based violence are necessary for a liberated Black people, there is no good reason to position yourself as antagonistic to the people trying to prevent violence and seek justice.
Despite his recent contrition, J. Cole has generally proven to be an “I said what I said” type (for the most part), so I am not holding my breath for his transformation or learning — but I do I hope the rap game changes because the reactionary politics shit they push as enlightenment is erosive for Black communities.
