The Court of Public Opinion Is Now in Session

The People v. Cancel Culture

Ryan Hussey
The Bigger Picture
Published in
11 min readAug 5, 2020

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Society’s gavel comes down with gravity, so let’s make sure we’re doing the right thing. (Image/Pexels)

All rise.

The Court of Public Opinion is now in session. Judge Ryan presiding. Please be seated.

Calling the case of the People versus Cancel Culture. Are both sides ready?

Great.

What a time to be alive. Later in this article, I’m going to show you something I’ve been working on for probably three years. But first, I need to talk about why I started making it, why I think it’s necessary, and how we got here.

Let’s rewind to October 2017, when a number of women came forward with stories about producer Harvey Weinstein’s ongoing sexual misconduct. Weinstein, turns out, had been using his power to manipulate, harass, and sexually assault women in the film industry for decades.

What followed was unprecedented. The Weinstein accusations sparked the #MeToo movement, inspiring survivors to share their stories — in turn, outing many prominent male politicians, TV personalities, and executives as sex offenders. TIME magazine even named ‘The Silence Breakers’ as its 2017 Person of the Year.

And so began a much-needed call for accountability: the demand that — regardless of someone’s social, professional, or financial status — he should be held responsible for his actions. (I use male pronouns here because the previous lack of accountability skewed overwhelmingly male.)

The dawn of ‘cancel culture’

Fast-forward to 2020. We are clearly living in a different time than we were in early 2017 (pandemic notwithstanding). And perhaps that’s for the better.

When people reminisce how ‘things were different back then,’ they’re 100% right. Things were different ‘back then.’

Things sucked for victims — mostly women and minorities — because anybody with power or authority could essentially get whatever he wanted without consequence. (I use a male pronoun here because power and authority did and still skew overwhelmingly male.)

But now, regardless of legal ramifications, everybody receives a speedy trial in the eyes of the public. We refer to this newfound accountability as cancel culture, though it’s somewhat of a misnomer.

As Michael Hobbes explains in his HuffPost article:

“‘Cancel culture’ is nothing more than the latest repackaging of the argument that the true threat to liberalism resides not in lawmakers or large corporations but in overly sensitive college students and random social media users. It is no more sophisticated than the ‘war on Christmas’ and has the same goal: to imply that those pushing back against injustice are equivalent to the injustice itself.”

In other words — and, coincidentally, in the words of Jessica Valenti:

“At the end of the day, ‘cancel culture’ is a term full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. It’s certainly not about free speech: After all, an arrested journalist is never referred to as ‘canceled’ nor is a woman who has been frozen out of an industry after complaining about sexual harassment. ‘Canceled’ is a label we all understand to mean a powerful person who’s been held to account. It’s a term meant to re-center sympathy on those who already have privilege and influence — a convenient tool to maintain the status quo.”

In other other words, this:

(via Twitter)

The court of public opinion

Any time you see someone’s name trending, you automatically think, Oh god what did they do?

Common hashtags include #CancelRyan, #BoycottRyan, and #RyanIsOverParty, the latter quite literally a virtual celebration of accountability. (Those are just examples — please don’t make them trend.)

Agree with it or not, the court of public opinion can influence or end a career quicker than the court of law — and Twitter trials move along more seamlessly than actual court proceedings, with a lot less red tape.

Admittedly, sometimes these trials happen too fast. But, while many of us worry which of our childhood heroes will turn out to be racists, dog killers, or sexual predators, I can’t help but think ‘cancel culture’ — or, public criticism — is completely necessary.

Sure, so-called ‘witch hunts’ are inherently dangerous. No, I don’t believe we should literally or metaphorically be drowning people to prove that they’re witches if they survive (never made much sense anyway). And yes, public opinion flips the traditional rules of law on their head; often it seems suspected offenders are guilty until proven innocent, ie. the push to believe women who come forward as survivors of sexual assault.

But, tell me, what’s the real harm in highlighting and investigating suspected misbehavior? I’d argue the only true danger in ‘cancel culture’ is that the jury — the public — can rarely agree on simple things, like what’s fact vs. what’s fiction. This inability, or blatant unwillingness, to read past headlines or look objectively at stats or evidence is the big problem.

When it comes to rape, for example, people may cite false accusation anecdotes. However, a study from England and Wales states that, statistically, men are more likely to be raped than to be falsely accused of rape.

As long as we have access to all relevant information and don’t misinterpret facts, we should be able to figure out whether someone’s ‘cancellation’ is warranted.

Charting celebrity wrongdoings

As you scroll through social media posts about a trending celebrity, the story often unfolds the same way. A public personality is on figurative trial for something shitty, and people are divided. Some people are disgusted, while others chime in to support the celeb. These online discussions can also turn political quickly.

(Perhaps it’s important to note here that, as apolitical as outing shitty people should be, there are and always have been shitty people everywhere on the political spectrum.)

By nature, the court of public opinion is subjective. But we have to wonder: Where do we draw the line? What are we, as a collective society, not willing to tolerate — and are some of these shattered reputations redeemable?

The simple question is: Are some offenses more forgivable than others?

Unfortunately, I surmise, the court of public opinion isn’t that simple. No, there is another variable at play: how likable someone is before they’re put on public trial.

See, someone with a great reputation has a much better shot at salvaging their career than someone with an iffy track record. And, the more polarizing of a figure you are — politically or otherwise — the harder it’ll be to ask for forgiveness from people who didn’t like you much to begin with.

Let’s plot it out

I believe that a Line of Forgiveness exists — a hard line that dictates whether we as a society are willing to forgive a celebrity for their misconduct.

It’s easier to explain visually. So, without further ado, I present to you the Celebrity Offense Tracker — the thing I’ve been working on since 2017.¹ Names that appear below the Line of Forgiveness have much more potential for redemption.

(Disclaimer: This is not me saying whether these people should or should not be forgiven. I am simply trying to assess their potential for forgiveness.)

(Another disclaimer: Absolutely none of this is scientific.)

Curious about someone’s offense? Click the dot next to their name, then use the down arrow at the top right to ‘drill down’ and see what they did.

In the graph, there are two pieces of data at play. A person’s Likability and the Severity of Offense combine to determine their overall potential for forgiveness.

Here’s what each data point represents:

  1. Likability: how likable someone was immediately preceding the wrongdoing (or uncovering of the wrongdoing)
  2. Severity of Offense: how bad the public perceives the wrongdoing

For example, Harvey Weinstein (top left) is about the least likable person out there, who did probably some of the shittiest things someone could do. In stark contrast, Cam Newton (bottom right) is extremely likable and all he did was say it was funny to hear a female reporter talk about routes. Problematic, yes, but he apologized almost immediately and has worn outfits more offensive than his comment. Newton is also still well-liked in the NFL community, while Weinstein rots in prison.

Some other examples that help illustrate the answer to our perennial question are Bill Cosby — beloved up until 50+ women accused him of rape — and Michael Vick — a popular quarterback who killed dogs but made a remarkable NFL comeback and seems to have turned his life around.

More about Likability

So, what exactly goes into determining how likable someone is?

Well, the X-axis starts with reputation. Are they known for being generally decent or shitty? Do they have any past transgressions? If they’ve trended on the internet previously, were reactions “okay love him” or “ight i’m over this dude”?

To illustrate how reputation affects forgivability, let’s examine two people who committed the same offense.

Nick Cannon and DeSean Jackson were both recently in the news for publicly making anti-Semitic comments. Nick Cannon, on one hand, is known and liked for hosting shows like America’s Got Talent, The Masked Singer, and Wild ’n Out. DeSean Jackson, on the other hand, is a polarizing NFL wide receiver you either love (if he’s played for your favorite team) or hate (if he’s played for your favorite team’s rival). That puts Jackson slightly closer to the line, though both appear forgivable on the graph.

More about Severity of Offense

How did I determine severity of wrongdoings?

The Y-axis data points display how the general public views certain misbehavior. For example, rape and murder are objectively awful (both 10/10 on the scale). By comparison, saying the ‘n’ word or wearing blackface is bad but not unforgivable (3.5/10 and 3/10, respectively). And on that same scale, something like shoplifting calls for a slap on the wrist (1/10).

Note: If the claims and evidence against someone are shaky, that factors into severity. So, if a majority of the public doubts the validity of a wrongdoing, the severity of offense is likely to be lower. (Coincidentally, one reason for doubt could be how likable someone is.)

The Line of Forgiveness

The Line of Forgiveness started as a line I drew somewhat arbitrarily. I knew it had to gradually incline and eventually flatten out (like a logarithmic curve)— because there comes a point where an action is unforgivable no matter how likable a person is.

But, generally, the Line of Forgiveness dictates that if someone is more reputable than they are terrible, the court of public opinion is likely to rule in their favor. Then, as I mentioned, offenses around 8/10 on the severity scale will likely never be forgiven (8/10 is where you get into repeated and/or convicted sexual offenses, murder, etc.).

As I added data to the chart, I adjusted the line to be more accurate for what we as a society are willing to tolerate — and it even helped predict how the public would react to some of the more recent offenses pictured on the graph, ie. the college admissions scandal and Drew Brees’ momentary lapse in judgment regarding the Black Lives Matter movement.

I know it’s not perfect, but I think my graph and Line of Forgiveness do a good job of trying to answer the age-old question: What is society’s moral threshold?

Seeing the full picture

When it comes to cancel culture, there’s always talk about ‘separating the art from the artist.’

If the person in question is a musician, author, etc., how should we react? Just because J.K. Rowling doesn’t respect trans people, should we never read/watch Harry Potter again? (I mean, there are plenty of other good books and movies out there, so maybe try not to pay for any of her stuff.)

Should we skip “Man in the Mirror” and “Billie Jean”?

I’m not going to avoid watching The Usual Suspects again simply because Kevin Spacey stars in it.

Should we boycott all movies ever produced by The Weinstein Company?

(FYI, that includes these and many more:

  • The King’s Speech
  • Lion
  • Silver Linings Playbook
  • a few Tarantino films)

Do whatever you want, but I think it’s important to consider the ‘art’ and the ‘artist’ together. We should uncover the truly shitty things people have done, but that shouldn’t get in the way of appreciating what they’ve contributed to society. Similarly, we should be able to appreciate their contributions, but that shouldn’t get in the way of condemning them for their wrongdoings.

The two are not and should not be mutually exclusive.

Consider the ‘separation of art and artist’ from a sports lens.

If you’ve seen the recent documentaries about Lance Armstrong or Michael Vick, you know that people are complex — neither good nor bad, but almost always somewhere in the middle. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ are shortcuts, and shortcuts don’t give you the full picture.

Lance Armstrong won seven Tour de France races in a row and lied repeatedly about not doping. But his work to remove the stigma of being a young person with cancer cannot be understated.

The point: You need to look at the person as a whole — successes, missteps, everything. Only then can you get a feel for who someone truly is.

The full picture also includes the comeback, if the person attempts one. Everybody loves a comeback story.

Michael Vick served 17 months in federal prison for his role in a dogfighting ring. But he made a remarkable comeback to the NFL and continues to give back to the community, including a lot of work for animal rights.

Similarly, Kobe Bryant was famously accused of rape in 2003, though he claimed it to be consensual and was never convicted. (He did settle a subsequent civil suit out of court in 2005.) Since his unfortunate death in early 2020 (which honestly seems like years ago at this point), Kobe’s reputation has become nearly untouchable.

Bryant is beloved in the basketball community and widely seen as a redeemed man, who was just starting “Act II” of his life post-NBA. In fact, you rarely hear people talk about the sexual assault case anymore.

One last point: Let’s normalize progress

In this socially woke climate, we are quick to cancel. Write people off, scrap their TV shows or music, boycott their businesses. But the whole point is progress, right?

If we’re going to continue this crusade for accountability, we need to make sure we’re ‘canceling’ people and brands for the right reasons. Otherwise, we run the risk of hindering progress instead of promoting it. Otherwise, we’re addressing symptoms of the disease rather than the underlying causes.

Shouldn’t a part of progress be giving people the chance — the time and freedom — to progress?

A quote I keep seeing on social media urges:

Normalize changing your opinion when presented with new information.

Well, let’s allow people — the people who want and deserve another chance — the opportunity to do that. To misstep, learn, reassess, and evolve.

That’s true progress.

Times are a-changin’. Adapt or get left behind.

¹For a look at my “raw data” (because I know you’re wondering how I put this all together), check out this PDF.

Thanks for reading! Kindly direct all compliments, complaints, and questions here. Read more by/about me here. Support my writing here.

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