Toxic Snowflakes
The snowflake generation. Coddled youth, raised to believe in their uniqueness, they melt when they encounter anything that threatens to dent their worldview. Apparently this describes liberal millennials — odd, then, that it is equally applicable to any number of other fragile folk.
The staunch English patriot who is outraged by the idea that a person may choose to honour the dead on Armistice Day through internal reflection, rather than wear a poppy that, to them, has become a symbol of nationalism rather than remembrance and peace. Snowflake.
The alt-right/neo-fascist Gamergater who mewls into his Mountain Dew while vomiting bile on Twitter because a feminist dared to critique his favourite game. Snowflake.
The insecure little flower who rails against the advent of gay marriage because they believe that it somehow diminishes their own heterosexual marriage. Snowflake.
The person who supports a political candidate with openly bigoted views, then is upset and amazed when it’s suggested that this might mean they are also a bigot. Snowflake.
The colonial apologist, unable to accept that the sun has set on the empire on which the sun never sets, who is driven to an apoplectic froth by the idea that a statue of an old imperialist might be taken down. Snowflake.
The technocunt billionaire who throws a nuclear tantrum and brings down a grubby media empire because they wrote something about him that he didn’t like. Epic snowflake.
The precious president-elect who is suddenly in favour of much-mocked “safe spaces” when his VP is politely but publicly entreated to act in the interests of all his citizens. Terrifyingly powerful snowflake.
Classic snowflakes may err in their crusades — I can’t in good conscience defend declarations that poor quality sushi is cultural appropriation — but they are driven by altruistic, inclusive impulses. The likes of Peter Thiel are driven by selfishness and narrow-mindedness. They are toxic snowflakes in a nuclear winter.
It’s people like these who are most likely to label others as snowflakes, yet they have the thinnest skins of all. They’ve been pandered to all of their lives, and never had to consider alternative world views. Now, when their system is being challenged, even in innocuous ways, and ways which will never directly impact them, they can’t take it. It’s not really about over-sensitivity or political correctness per se — it’s about protecting the status quo. There’s a fear that privilege is a zero sum game, that if an oppressed minority is raised up then someone else will have to be lowered down. The anti-snowflake vitriol is about pushing back, preserving whatever privilege one has.
Even moderates have little time for snowflakes. They take the moral high ground, asserting that pragmatism is the way forward, not delicate idealism. College students who no-platform speakers with dodgy views are being blinkered and cosseted. They should welcome those with opposing views, hear them out, then openly challenge them and defeat them with incisive arguments.
Earlier this year, I would probably have agreed with that. But a lot has changed since then. Who can still believe that sunlight is the best disinfectant in the post-truth world of Brexit and Trump? The likes of Farage and Trump were given all the sunlight the media could muster, yet they did not turn to dust. These vampires, these daywalkers, they still stride openly among us and grow stronger by the day. Even now, after all we’ve seen of the modern irrelevancy of debate, of facts, there are still those who insist that the way to defeat French fascism is by giving Marine Le Pen, the leader of the Front National, an opportunity to promote her views on the BBC. We’ll see how that works out next year.
It’s a new world, and the old guard still don’t realise. But the snowflakes do. Perhaps we should listen to them.
