I Spent The Weekend Inadvertently Not Boycotting Sony

Over the weekend, a petition began circulating that encouraged signers to boycott Sony. While it’s heartening to see about 250,00 people showing their support for Kesha, as she’s forced to remain in a record contract that requires her to work for her rapist’s company, it doesn’t elaborate on what boycotting Sony might entail. (It also devotes the majority of its’ argument to a somewhat rambling Michael Jackson anecdote.)

I decided to research what boycotting Sony would actually mean in practice, at least for myself. And if you’re anything like me, you spent the whole weekend inadvertently not boycotting Sony.

According to their site, Sony Music Entertainment owns the following record labels: Columbia, Columbia Nashville, RCA, RCA Record Labels Nashville, Arista Nashville, and Epic.

Here’s a list of artists signed to Sony labels that I listened to just this weekend alone: Adele, A$AP Rocky, Beyonce, Billy Joel, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Carrie Underwood, Dixie Chicks, Hozier, MGMT, Miley Cyrus, Modest Mouse, Shakira.

Here’s a list of artists I often listen to but happened not to this past weekend: Haim, First Aid Kit, Patti Smith, Justin Timberlake, Fiona Apple, Michael Jackson, Van Morrison, Elvis Priestly, Yo-Yo Ma.

Here’s a couple of artists I don’t really listen to very often, but you probably enjoy: Mariah Carey and Barbara Streisand.

For the most part, I was streaming these artists. Am I buying concert tickets for any of them soon? I have Dixie Chicks tickets for this summer, I got locked out of Beyonce and Adele, but am still looking to procure a Bruce Springsteen ticket for Barclays. I also would like to see Billy Joel at the Garden sometime in July. If we all decided not to buy any albums from a Sony artist, what then? We steal the music? Who gets harmed? I’d argue I’m probably already harming the artists and not the label by choosing to use Spotify, but that’s a different article. Regardless, I’ve never felt comfortable stealing music as it is. I spent a lot of my post college career working in independent film, and I think you should pay for the art you want to consume. I’ve illegally downloaded two movies in my life: The Adjustment Bureau and White House Down. I didn't even do it myself. I wouldn’t know how. Friends who were at my apartment at the time did it for me. I actually expect to be arrested for this, now that I’ve come clean.

Which is a good segway. (Segway is owned by Segway Inc. of New Hampshire just in case you were wondering.)

Sony Music is owned by the Sony Corporation of America. Which also owns Sony Pictures. I didn’t see any movies from Sony Pictures in theaters this weekend, and I have no current or pressing plans to see Pride & Prejudice and Zombies. I have until 2020 to decide if I want to see Godzilla vs. Kong. But I am certainly planning seeing Ghostbusters this summer. Do I want to boycott a film that I plan on seeing opening weekend, not just because I want to, but because opening weekend grosses are incredibly important in continuing to get female-centric films made? No. I saw Diary of a Teenage Girl in theaters last year. I am quite sure I will rent it again in the near future. It’s stunningly acted and shot, and it’s a rare and nuanced look at girlhood sexuality. And it profits a corporation siding with a rapist. But it’s initial distribution and continued success makes it all the more likely more female directors will get funded and distributed and that the film’s director, Marielle Heller, will get to make a second film. Oy. Let’s see about TV.

Well, I watch Seinfeld, and I watched Bloodline. I’m currently catching up on Better Call Saul, I own a handful of episodes of Breaking Bad and Sons of Anarchy each. I plan on beginning Outlander. But maybe I need to draw a line. Looks like I’m never starting Justified!

I don’t watch Days of Our Lives, Jeopardy!, or Wheel of Fortune, but I’ve heard a lot of people do.

(Okay, that’s a lie. I watch Jeopardy! on Taxi TV, but I heard Taxi TV is on the way out, anyways.)

Here is a list of the TV shows Sony helps or helped produce.

And the movies they’ve distributed. And another list under the subsidiary company Legendary Pictures.

I don’t play video games, but Sony owns Playstation. I don’t currently own a Sony TV, tablet or phone, and I’m pretty sure I can keep it that way.

Sony, in partnership with Olypmus, is developing a new type of surgical endoscope. I haven’t had an upper endoscopy since 2008, and this venture started in 2012, so that’s checks out.

And all of this is owned by Sony, the Japanese based parent company. Sony invented the walkman. I haven’t bought one of those in a while either.

This list is obviously not exhaustive. I’m not sure I fully understand all the companies Sony owns and their products. I’m obviously being very glib because that feels like all I have left in my arsenal. If I didn’t put up a wall of humor against rape culture, I wouldn’t get out of bed.

Saying “Boycott Sony,” is obviously a nebulous statement. Though I am certain there are people who do it everyday, all day. My sister, her husband, and my niece rarely listen to current pop musicians, nor watch many films or TV shows. My sister is a poet. My niece has been playing the fiddle by ear since age 5. They are all three vegans, practicing Buddhists, and the least materialistic people I know. They consistently live by the principles they believe in. In short, they are nothing like the rest of us.

Could I feasibly stop listening to all those Sony artists? Yes. I could probably survive for quite some time on Sleater-Kinnery, Mal Blum, Taylor Swift and Jay-Z alone. I could only watch films from Focus Features and Magnolia Pictures. I can limit my TV to the CW. Is that going to help? I don’t know, but I doubt it.

I do know that I feel utterly powerless in a world where forcing a woman to work for her rapist’s record label holds up in a court of law, where a contract is more important than our bodies, our health, our sanity, and ultimately our worth. So I’m going to do what I do every time I feel powerless.

If you were raped, I believe you. I don’t think it’s your fault. And there’s so many of us who feel that same way, who support you. Our voices aren’t the loudest yet, but we are here. And we aren’t going anywhere.

So tell survivors you believe them. It’s quite literally the least, and maybe the most important, thing we can do.