INTRODUCTION
Why I had to set the record straight on cancel culture.
“America is canceled,” a friend texted me as news began to roll in on January 6, 2021, that the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C., was under siege by an angry pack of Trump supporters. “They are really trying to take the country back.”
Only a day before, social media was noisy with celebration. Progressives were tweeting out excitement over the Democrats winning back the Senate, following runoff victories in Georgia. The Peach State had been flipped from red to blue by a Jewish candidate, Jon Ossoff, and a Black candidate, Rev. Raphael Warnock.
The historic moment was not embraced by all. After months of repeating the big lie that he was the true winner of the election, Trump unleashed a mob of his most rabid followers and urged them to march on the Capitol. Their goal? To insist that Congress and then vice president Mike Pence overturn the election results and name Trump as president. As those domestic terrorists smashed windows and stormed through the Capitol Building, a fearful Congress ducked and ran for shelter. Never in history had Americans sought to destroy their own capital to flip the results of an election. Sure, there have been disagreements over presidential elections in the past, such as the recount dispute of George W. Bush versus Al Gore or even the outrage over Hillary Clinton losing to Donald Trump despite receiving three million more votes—but something about the 2020 election struck a different nerve. The protesters could simply not accept the reality of the Democratic win, that Joe Biden would be president, with Kamala Harris at his side as the country’s first woman of color vice president. The insurrection cost five civilians their lives, many more protesters and police were injured, and four of the officers on duty that day have since died by suicide.
Trump would later be impeached by Congress for a second time for his part in the events of January 6. But perhaps the more consequential reprimand came from social media. After years of tolerating Trump’s steady stream of threats and lies, Facebook and Twitter shut down his accounts. It was hardly a display of moral courage, given the end of his term was in sight.
As the world looked on, and with America balanced on the precipice of democracy, I wondered, was my friend right? Was America going to be canceled? By itself? In the end, it was Trump, and not America, who was canceled.
The concept of cancel culture is controversial, yet it’s a rare social setting where you don’t hear about something or someone being canceled. Celebrities, politicians, movies, foods, toys, even words—all have been canceled, or at least claimed to have been canceled. Right-wing politicians have used cancel culture as a battle cry against progressives, arguing that freedom of speech is under attack by the Left. Progressives who favor it insist that cancel culture is an important tool in holding those who abuse power accountable. Those who remain in the middle, both politically and socially, question whether cancel culture is a nuisance or a necessary action. During the 2021 CPAC conference,1 whose slogan was “America Uncanceled,” Trump declared that “we reject cancel culture!”
Depending on whom you talk to, Chick-fil-A, the chicken-sandwich fast-food company, should be canceled for its problematic stances on LGBTQIA rights. Some might tell you to stop listening to R. Kelly, Chris Brown, Kodak Black, 6ix9ine, Marilyn Manson, and other men in music who have a history of abuse allegations. You may have been warned not to revisit older films such as Song of the South, Gone with the Wind, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or classic westerns starring John Wayne because they include racist stereotypes of Black, Brown, and Indigenous people.
Much of the current debate about cancel culture focuses on individuals who are professionally ruined as a result. Society, or some part of it, has found a person’s behavior to be unacceptable, and so they are rejected, their future redemption uncertain. Some claim that cancel culture is too harsh, while others say it’s simply a form of accountability. The contemporary conversation is mostly about individual people, even though cancel culture has also always touched laws, companies, groups of people, and even countries.
Netflix removed Oscar-winner Kevin Spacey from the hit series House of Cards following multiple allegations of sexual assault by the actor. The streaming giant was so committed to scrubbing Spacey from the show, they reworked the final season to completely focus on his character’s wife, played by actress Robin Wright. The network’s swift cancellation of Spacey allowed the show to create a critically acclaimed conclusion and garner an Emmy.
Who could forget when R&B songstress Chrisette Michele was canceled after she performed during the 2017 presidential inauguration of Donald Trump? Michele, who was a Grammy-nominated artist, lauded by the Black community for her vocals and authenticity, was shunned and considered a traitor by fans who viewed the forty-fifth president as a racist. She told The Washington Post2 that she thought she could “be a bridge” to uniting the country that was still reeling from Trump’s 2016 victory. Michele received death threats, suffered a miscarriage from stress, lost a record deal, and had her music rejected by radio stations, among other personal and professional setbacks.
Meanwhile, hip-hop heavyweights such as Kanye West and Lil Wayne backed Trump throughout his infamous presidency, and while they were both criticized by progressives, they continued to achieve commercial success. It’s clear that the results of cancellation are anything but consistent. For a myriad of reasons I’ll tackle in this book, some weather cancel culture more easily than others.
Before we break down how cancel culture functions, we should go back to the genesis of the phrase. I first heard the word cancel used in a new way while enjoying an evening of salacious reality TV in December 2014. The show was VH1’s Love & Hip Hop, a hilarious look at old and new hip-hop moguls and their frequently twisted love triangles. And Black Twitter loved to weigh in on the drama and gossip in real time. I love live tweeting television. There is nothing quite like seeing people around the world share similar or opposing views on the same show at the same time.
In this episode, music producer Cisco Rosado was confronted at a restaurant by his love interest at the time, Diamond Strawberry. Strawberry had left her life behind to follow Rosado to New York and was frustrated that he was keeping her a secret from his friends. She revealed to him during lunch that she had a child and that she wanted them to live as a family. Strawberry was combative and began to raise her voice. Rosado started to signal he was breaking up with her. Worried that she was losing her man—and possibly her clout—she told him she wasn’t going anywhere. Drinks splashed; glasses shattered.
And then, Rosado gave her the two-word dismissal3 that might just have started a revolution: “You’re canceled.”
After that, Black Twitter couldn’t get enough of the phrase, and many used it for both serious and silly issues. Ed Sheeran was canceled for calling the VMA’s race argument between Taylor Swift and Nicki Minaj at the time “redundant.” Amy Schumer was canceled on social media for racist jokes she’d made in the past. Friends canceled each other for liking bizarre foods. My husband told me I would get canceled if I didn’t stop buying iceberg lettuce. In Philadelphia, where I live, people began to cancel those who liked certain cheesesteaks over others.
Copyright © 2023 by Ernest Owens
