Free Speech in the Era of Political Correctness: A Helpful Guide

Over the past few weeks, the speculative fiction writing community (in particular, the writers’ organization SFWA) has been embroiled in a seemingly unending string of controversies as a series of dubious blog posts and magazine columns have garnered a huge amount of attention. Lots of people have called them out for seemingly sexist, racist, or just plain angry language. (I won’t recap the whole debate; it’s easy enough to Google.) There’s been a strong reaction against such speech, but amidst the reaction, there’s also been a counter-reaction: Many folks, while not necessarily agreeing with the original posts, have nevertheless expressed concern that free speech will be damaged in this rush to be “politically correct.”

Luckily, for these folks, I have good news. Political correctness does not actually infringe on free speech at all! So as a public service, I thought I would provide some helpful tips for any folks with such concerns. Rest assured, my friends, you can indeed continue to express your full and colorful free speech rights in this newfound era of rampant political correctness.

First, it’s helpful to define what “the right to free speech” actually is. The United States Constitution defines it thusly: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. I think it’s quite clear that the literal right to free speech is not being violated; no one is threatening to throw Theodore Beale in jail, and Mary Robinette Kowal’s jackbooted thugs have not yet (to my knowledge) kicked down the door of his house and dragged him off to a hard labor camp. Please leave a comment if that situation changes so I can update this post accordingly.

Nevertheless, when most people talk about the “Right to Free Speech” or the “Right to Free Expression” they are talking about something broader than the First Amendment. Rather, they are referring to a general belief that in any society, it is important to allow people to express themselves, to promote the exchange of ideas and rational dialogue. This is a noble idea and one I heartily endorse. Unfortunately, this can lead to the mistaken notion that there should be no consequences to speech; that someone should, for example, be able to be an asshole online and not have to deal with the inevitable reaction.

This, unfortunately, is a paradox, akin to going back in time for a little patricidal adventure. You see, if you don’t want to face consequences for your speech, you necessarily have to stifle the people who disagree with you, thus denying them their own freedom of speech. Freedom of speech must, by necessity, include consequences.

Which, ultimately, brings me to the point of this guide: in this era of political correctness, the right to free speech is, I am pleased to report, as intact and healthy as ever. What is relatively new is that people, all people, feel increasingly free to exercise that right.

What this leads to, however, is the reality that more people are having to take responsibility for their speech. This can unfortunately cause misunderstandings with folks who did not previously realize– or at least appreciate– that free speech applied to everybody, even previously marginalized groups who may have previously been reluctant to call out various flavors of bullshit when they saw it.

Let’s play out an example of this in action, shall we? Here’s one of Mike Resnick and Barry Malzberg’s columns in the Official SFWA Bulletin. Here they praise a female colleague, Bea Mahaffey, by relaying a secondhand story (source):

Another story is from nonagenarian Margaret Keiffer, who lives just a couple of miles from us. She’s the widow of super-fan Don Ford, who ran the 1949 Worldcon, and founded both Midwestcon and First Fandom. Don also created CFG (the Cincinnati Fantasy Group), the venerable local club to which Carol and I belong. According to Margaret, during its first few years of existence CFG was populated exclusively by men. Then Bea joined. Then the members’ wives got a look at Bea in her swimsuit at the 1950 Midwestcon. Then the club’s makeup changed to the 50% men and 50% women that has existed ever since.

This drew a great deal of outrage from people due to the non-subtle implication that the only reason women joined the fan group was that they were jealous of Bea… and, of course, the focus on Bea’s looks as opposed to, say, her editing. Note that it doesn’t actually matter whether the story originated with a women (Margaret Keiffer) or with one of the authors– the source of the outrage was in the story itself, not the person who told it.

A few decades ago, such a tale would have probably been elicited more chuckles than controversy– but today, it’s seen as emblematic of an outdated “Old Boys’ Club” view of SFF. Is this just because people are more easily offended? Or do more people just have the temerity to speak out against sexism in this day and age, whereas previously it was just par for the course?

Here’s a pro-tip, if you find yourself in Resnick/Malzberg’s shoes: it doesn’t matter whether your audience is easily offended or not. Being angry is an emotional reaction, and someone cannot be wrong in their reaction to something. To deny someone their outrage is to deny them their freedom of speech– and that is exactly what we’re trying to avoid.

This is where “taking responsibility for your speech” comes in. To help folks with this, I’ve outlined Andrew’s Helpful Three-Step Process:

1) Take a deep breath. Acknowledge that the person you offended is indeed a human being, with all the thoughts, desires, and emotions thereof. This is crucial. Say it aloud to yourself if needed: “I am dealing with a human being.”

2) Ask yourself: why were they offended?
-Is it because they misunderstood something you said?
-Did they see an insult you did not intend?
-Is it because you accidentally marginalized them in some way?
-Do they simply disagree with one of your opinions?

Any of these are legitimate and can be addressed or followed up on.

3) If you experience an urge to post a rant about how their outrage is actually victimizing you, slam your laptop closed on your fingers. (Repeat this step as needed until urge passes.)

The reason Step 3 is so vital is it prevents you from shirking the responsibility incurred upon you by free speech. And that, more than anything else, is what marks this era of “political correctness” as different from the past– at least, for certain groups of people.

Most people have always had to face consequences for their speech, particularly if you were a less powerful person who offended a more powerful person. Now, as society pushes for equality, the playing field grows more level. Previously privileged people, who were once able to be cavalier with their speech, or say things (even just supposedly funny stories) without fully considering the possible reaction, may now find themselves facing consequences they did not expect– even if their intention was benign.

But, I have more good news! Dealing with unforeseen consequences is not actually all that scary, if you know how. First, sticking with the helpful three-step process outlined above is an important start. Barry Malzberg and Mike Resnick neglected to follow Step 3: rather than slamming their hands in their laptops, they published a vitriolic response accusing their critics of fascism. Whoops! They shirked responsibility!

For another example, let’s look back at Hugh Howey, who once posted a sexist rant on his blog. He described an encounter with a disagreeable person at WorldCon, who argued with him over various aspects of writing, and who happened to be female. His post was perhaps best summarized in its ending sentence: “Suck it, bitch.”

That sentence can be seen as carrying numerous problematic aspects– it denigrates her as a woman, and it’s suggestive of sexual violence: a command, given from a man to a woman, to suck it.

In the initial response, he argued that he had been misinterpreted. His goal had been to express the sentiment: “Ha ha, I’m a successful real-life counterexample to your negative opinion of self-publishing.” Which may very well have been true, however, the people angered by his language weren’t satisfied: their problem wasn’t with his opinion, it was with his graphic usage of sexual language to denigrate a woman he disagreed with. Finally, he issued a mea culpa and apologized. Hugh Howey has largely been forgiven, and his successful career continues.

This brings up a few things we can learn from:

1) Even if you didn’t personally find Hugh Howey’s post offensive, the people who did were not wrong. As stated earlier, it is literally impossible for someone to be wrong in their reaction to something– they can lie about what their reaction is, but their reaction is their reaction, and how they feel is how they feel. If you belittle someone’s reaction, you are unavoidably belittling them as a person.

Moreover, by doing so, you are actually less likely to win the argument. To quote The Art of War, which talks about enemies but could apply equally well to critics:

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.
If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.
If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

When you dismiss your critics by ascribing false motivations (i.e. “they’re fascists who hate free speech”, or “they just love causing drama”), you are willfully failing to know them. If you can truthfully understand why they’re outraged, you’ll be in a much better position, even if you still disagree with them.

2) Apologies do not diminish you. This seems to be a problem that men in particular struggle with, as though an apology weakens their manhood. I assure you, this is not the case. Apologies are merely suggestive of empathy, that you are capable of understanding another person’s viewpoint. This is something people of both genders should be learning to do by the time their age hits double digits, and the fact that many otherwise-functional adults apparently cannot– or refuse to do so– never ceases to be a source of amazement for me.

Another pro-tip: it is possible to apologize without conceding your argument. Many people are apparently unaware of this, perhaps having stayed home sick during that day in kindergarten when they explained how apologies worked. An apology does require that you treat your critic like an actual human being, but– and I suspect this will also come as a surprise to some– it is possible to disagree with someone and treat them like a human being at the same time.

Take Hugh Howey’s situation, for example. In his situation, it was entirely possible to apologize for using crass and offensive language without apologizing for his opinion on self-publishing, which I suspect was the part of the argument that he actually cared about. (And I suspect if he had focused his point on self-publishing without suggesting that she suck his dick, he may have been even better off in the first place. More on this in a moment.)

One of the best apologies ever was from Matthew Inman of The Oatmeal, who once posted a comic poking fun at girl gamers. In the wake of that, he didn’t whine about how he was being victimized and shouted down. He seriously made an attempt to understand his critics’ perspective, and acknowledged that (1)his personal experience did not appear to be representative; (2)his critics’ own stories and experiences and feelings were also valid (as pointed out earlier, such is the nature of human emotion); and (3)made a substantial gesture of a $1,000 donation to the Women Against Abuse foundation. Apologizing did not make Matthew Inman any less of a man. If anything, it made him a better human being, and elevated his stature in many people’s eyes.

You see, folks, we’re in an era where Macho Bullshit no longer rules. People are judged by the respect they show for their fellow human beings, not by the size of their cojones. Actually, the latter isn’t quite true– if you want to interpret size of their cojones metaphorically, I would humbly suggest that someone who steps up and takes responsibility for their words and their actions has far, far bigger cojones than someone who runs around screaming “fascist!” or “PC police!” when other people call them out. (For further reading on this subject, I suggest the Wikipedia entry on Ad Hominem.)

3) Target your language. The biggest problem with Hugh Howey’s post was not his opinion, but the collateral damage his language caused. If you want to avoid offending an entire gender, avoid using historically loaded or broad terms (no pun intended). This may require you to be more creative in your language, but as creative writers, you should welcome the challenge, not cower from it. Hugh Howey used a lot of sexist language, and overly dwelt on his opponent’s gender, for no reason.

As a starting point, I suggest the term “asshole.” It’s nice and generic– everyone has one, after all, and any human being, regardless of class, gender, race, or sexuality, can sometimes be a gigantic raging asshole. Think of it as a way of insulting someone who deserves it while also celebrating this unifying aspect of humanity.

Try to avoid using gender-specific terms– bitch, pussy, dick— unless the person’s gender is somehow relevant to the argument. (Pro-tip: it isn’t.) For similar reasons, avoid using the words faggot, nigger, kike, and so on. Identity-based slurs do not aid your argument, ever.* (*One would think, in 2013, that this wouldn’t need to be explicity stated, but as mentioned, it’s a new era, and this Helpful Guide is for folks who are having difficulties adapting.)

4) When you’re going to be a jerk, do it on purpose. Hey, sometimes you’re angry and you feel like being an asshole. It happens to everyone, and sometimes a little righteous profanity-laden smackdown is a good thing. But, in correlation with number 3, go in with both eyes open. If you want to, for example, call someone a humongous turdmunch with the brain of a half-rotten baked potato (which happens to roughly coincidence with my opinion of Theodore Beale), be aware of how folks may react, and what you might need to take responsibility for. Luckily, as described earlier, taking responsibility isn’t actually all that hard. And if you feel like you’re in the right, by all means, defend yourself– but be sure to follow my Helpful Three-Step Process outlined above.

One Final Note: Sometimes it is possible to say something that is so uncivil, and so out of bounds, that consequences go beyond getting yelled at and actually verge into things like getting banned from a professional organization (i.e. SFWA), or being socially ostracized. That is, unfortunately, also a consequence of free speech, and I’d suggest that it happened not so much because of your viewpoint, but because you failed to treat your critics/opponents like actual human beings. Please see the parts above where I talked about apologizing, and also about slamming your fingers into your laptop– I suspect you may have missed a piece of advice in there somewhere.

But if you do follow my advice, it turns out you can still say pretty much anything you want! If not in an officially-sanctioned SFWA bulletin, then on your blog, or your Twitter, or by yelling on a street corner. As long as you aren’t facing punishment from the government, you do still have your free speech rights– and if you’re upset that everyone thinks you’re a raging douchebag, well, I would once again refer you to my Helpful Three Step Process.

Hopefully this post helps you continue your free speechifying in an age of rampant “political correctness,” aka “treating other people like actual human beings.” Good luck!

Labels: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Disclaimer: This post deals with some heavy material. If you don’t feel like reading about the politics of SFWA, or about my personal beliefs on religion, you may want to skip this post. The reason I’m posting this is, well, I’m a writer. And as often happens, I felt the need to write out my thoughts.

There’s been a lot of talk on respect and tolerance in the SFF Community lately, and I’m not going to re-hash it here. (I actually typed about 400 words doing just that before I realized it was going off the rails and deleted it.) But I do want to address one specific aspect of it. A few days ago, Nancy Fulda, on her LiveJournal, made a well-written plea for religious tolerance in our little community, which admittedly, is something we are not always very good at.

I have mixed feelings on this. On the one hand, I agree with Christie Yant, who makes the valid point that people should feel safe coming to SFF events and not feel like they might get mocked for what they believe. And yet, I also agree with Keffy, who makes the extremely valid point that if “religious tolerance” means quietly putting up with every single tenet of someone’s religion, then fuck that noise. In the civil rights struggle of our generation– the struggle for LGBT rights– the primary opponent is religiously-motivated discrimination. We cannot and should not sit idly by when someone’s beliefs dictate the oppression of another group. As a commenter on Keffy’s LiveJournal put it, “If we want to be a welcoming community, the one thing we can’t tolerate is intolerance.”

Which seems like a bit of a contradiction, yet it’s something I totally agree with. Beliefs have consequences– for the believers, and for the non-believers around them. When your beliefs dictate the oppression of an entire group based on their identity, or denying people the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because of who they are— be it sexism, racism, homophobia– you have to come to terms with the fact that those beliefs will have consequences. Your right to believe whatever you want about the universe does not extend to a right to cause others harm.

I think the problem arises, then, and where Nancy may have her strongest point, is that we often paint with too broad a brush. There are religious bigots, yes, but clearly not every religious person is a bigot. My Mom was a progressive, pro-equal-rights Christian who derived great joy, fellowship, and love from her church. Her pastor– who I met several times when we laid my Mom to rest in February– is the sort of loving, empathetic Christian who actually seems to understand what Jesus meant when he said “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Nancy is Mormon, and even though I’m not, I can understand when she says she feels the need to hide her faith, that she’s afraid of being painted as a bigot and a homophobe because of the actions of her church, and many members within it. It should be on each of us to ensure that we don’t jump to conclusions, that we don’t judge people prematurely or look down on them for beliefs they don’t actually hold. That kind of stereotyping is no more justified than any other kind.

And yet– I hope Nancy, and religious folks like her, understand that when we denounce the Mormon church’s role in promoting homophobia, in denying rights to gay people, in funding the passage of Proposition 8 (an action which they now seem to be backing away from, to their credit), that it’s not a personal attack on her. But we are standing up for a cause we are passionate about. I am standing up for the rights of my family and friends to live their lives free of discrimination, for their right to not be second-class citizens in a society that is supposed to be, and should be, equal-rights-for-all. No way in hell will I apologize for, or stop doing, that.

Which brings me to my point: Labels are tricky. On the one hand, they’re useful for grouping people together, and giving a shorthand way to describe your beliefs or your identity. On the other hand, they tend to result in a lot of collateral damage when it comes to legitimate arguments. Nancy applies the label “Mormon” to herself (as a member of the Mormon Church, it certainly applies), and so when someone attacks Mormons for being bigoted, Nancy feels unfairly attacked, lumped together with people whose beliefs are far more extreme than her own.

For my own part, I’m an atheist. I recognize that this label represents a broad spectrum of beliefs; it even encompasses people I disagree with, or whose message is far too angry and confrontational for my taste. I am very much a “live and let live” sort of person. So whenever atheists do something I disagree with– whether it’s file a seemingly frivolous lawsuit, or put up a harshly anti-religion message in a public space– I feel bad. I recognize that some people, by extension, might paint me with the same brush they paint those other atheists with. But it’s the price I pay for being public about my beliefs. I think it’s a price worth paying.

But should I have to pay that price? Should a pro-equality Mormon have to pay a price for the fact that some of his or her comrades are virulently anti-gay? Well, no. But like I said, labels are tricky. As mentioned earlier, we often use them as shorthand for a group, and when we do, they cause collateral damage. It is incumbent on each of us to make sure that we don’t lump an entire group of people into one category, because of the actions of a few, or even a substantial portion, of that group.

If you’re a member of that group, and you feel it’s unfairly represented or marginalized, I urge you– if possible– to wear that label anyway, to change things, to demonstrate by your words and your actions that people’s preconceptions and prejudices are wrong. It’s tough to do. As an atheist, I feel like it’s something I do almost every day– especially back when I lived in the South, inundated by public religion, by billboards along the Interstate and people on the radio telling me I was going to hell. But, on the other hand, if you feel like you’re getting hate for not just being associated with the label, but for something you actually believe— well, then you may want to question those particular beliefs. Or maybe not. But freedom of speech does not mean freedom of consequences from that speech, and the same applies to freedom of belief.

For people on the other side of the equation, there ought to be a recognition that when you use an overly broad label, you are potentially alienating people who could be your allies. Even just for purely tactical purposes, why push people to the other side? That’s the problem with saying “Religious people are bigots,” or asking “Why do Mormons hate gay rights so much?” You may feel entitled to ask that question, but is it really the smartest thing ever to lump the pro-equality Mormons (of which I know several) in with the bigots? Why alienate the people who could potentially help you? They’re your inside agents, the people who in fact have the most power to change the larger group that’s marginalizing you. They’re potentially your most useful allies of all.

All that said: I don’t think, by and large, that an SFF convention or a writing forum is the proper venue to debate religion or beliefs, but they do occasionally intersect. The SFF community should be a safe space for everyone, and if your beliefs preclude anyone’s safe space– if you believe that for reason or another, a person is less deserving of respect or equality because of who they are– then you’ll probably want to check those beliefs at the door. Respect is a two-way street.

———–

(Afterword: I welcome comments on this. Looking back over it, I don’t feel like it’s perhaps as cohesive or relevant as I might have hoped, but I still think it’s worth posting. I’m open to questions, corrections, clarifications, and thoughts down below.)

Feminist Musings from a Cosplay Photographer

This week has been a rough week for women in fandom. Just in the past few days, we’ve seen:

Controversy, controversy, everywhere.

First, some context: I am a straight white male. I grew up middle class. I have never had to go hungry, and never been financially destitute (despite the ongoing efforts of my mortgage company). I am pleased to be in the position I’m in, and I recognize that a lot of people have things a heck of a lot tougher than I do, for various social and economic reasons.

As I’ve gotten more involved in fandom, and met a lot of awesome people, I’ve had my perspectives challenged and expanded. I’ve watched and chimed in via Twitter as fandom struggled with questions of diversity vs. political correctness, whether it be the Readercon fiasco, back-and-forth criticism of sexuality in cosplay, or the dirty jokes that led to two people getting fired. (That last one is more “tech” than “fandom”, although the two circles heavily intersect.)

On a more positive and well thought-out note, I see interesting re-imaginings like Michael Lee Lunsford’s fully clothed superheroines, which got a lot of positive reaction a few days ago. But some of the praise verged on the suggestion that beauty = modesty (a dubious statement– the two concepts are only tangentially related) and that women who cosplay scantily-clad characters and superheroines are, to say the least, not helping the feminist cause. This is perhaps best personified in this reaction, in which the author laments the oversexualization of cosplay. Oh, if only cosplayers wouldn’t parade their butts around and show so much skin!

For my part, I consider myself a feminist. I’m also a cosplayer, a photographer, a writer, and a creative person. I’ve shot photoshoots with gorgeous models, I’ve done bodypainting (on both myself and others), and written erotic fiction. And here’s the thing: none of those are mutually exclusive in the slightest. Rather, being successful at any of them starts from the same place: Respect. Whether the person I’m photographing is dressed as Vampirella, Kratos, or Optimus Prime, they are a human being, with all the motivations, insecurities, temptations, shortcomings, feelings, and thoughts that entails. Therefore they are worthy of respect, period, full stop.

Respect isn’t something people earn, it’s something they deserve. It’s a direct benefit of existence. Even if she (or he) is in a sexy or provocative pose, wearing next to nothing, or partaking in some other action that you disagree with either on a rational or a moral basis, that doesn’t and never will countenance being disrespectful or harassing.

In a previous blog post, I said that happiness isn’t so much a result of what happens to you, as opposed to how you react to it. In a similar manner, respect– and class, and dignity, and a host of other adjectives– aren’t so much about what happen to you, as how you react to them. Are you a journalist interviewing a gorgeous woman dressed as Black Cat? How you comport yourself in that interview says everything about you, and nothing about her. To suggest otherwise is to suggest that you don’t have control over your own behavior.

To which I say, loud and clear, bullshit. This is a call to all the males– all the people– of fandom, of geekdom, of cosplay, hell, of the whole goddamn world. YOU have full control and responsibility for YOUR OWN actions. Whether you’re a football player in Steubenville, a journalist in New York, a professional author, or a cosplay photographer in one of countless cons across the world. Take some fucking responsibility. Believe it or not, you have 100% control over what you say and how you treat people. The awesome places you find yourself, the sexy people you might find yourself talking to and looking at, do not under any circumstance excuse or justify, even in the slightest, a bad reaction.

For me as a photographer, this means that no matter who I want to take a picture of, I always get their permission first. I walk up to them, tap them once on the shoulder if I need to get their attention, and ask, while maintaining eye contact: “May I take your picture?” If they’re in a conversation, I will apologize for interrupting– if indeed I interrupt at all. I try not to stop folks who are clearly busy, no matter how great their costume is or how sexy they look. I recognize that even though they are cosplayers, I am not actually entitled to anything. And I wouldn’t touch a cosplayer inappropriately, no matter how they dress, any more than I would inappropriately touch a stranger on the street.

This attitude has benefits. For one, it works in reverse. If I react under the default assumption that others are worthy of respect, then it means that I am worthy of respect. This is a huge self-confidence booster; in fact, I’d say this attitude, more than anything else, has boosted my self-confidence more than anything else I’ve done in the past couple years, including taking anti-depressants. It means that when others don’t treat me with respect, I feel okay about leaving the situation. People aren’t entitled to things from me any more than I’m entitled to things from them, and that has stopped a lot of second-guessing on my part when it comes to my social anxiety. Moreover, it means that I’m naturally less awkward in social interactions, whether they be with beautiful women or anybody else– I know how I’m going to behave, and the other person’s clothing, mannerisms, etc. is pretty much irrelevant to that.

One of the greatest things I’ve learned in the past year is that it’s possible to flirt with people while still staying true to every single thing I mentioned above. In fact, some people will be so surprised that you’re acting this way that they’ll take regular conversation as flirting, even skillful flirting, simply because you’re confident in yourself while still treating them like a human being. Seizing and holding on to full responsibility for my own actions is the greatest and most liberating thing I’ve ever done, and I highly suggest people try it, regardless of your gender, sexual orientation, skin color, costume, or political beliefs. And– this is key– regardless of the gender, sexual orientation, skin color, costume, or political beliefs of the people you interact with. That’s my advice to fandom. It’s simple, perhaps even seemingly obvious, yet amazingly overlooked by too many people.

To paraphrase Aretha Franklin: R-e-s-p-e-c-t. That is what it means to me.