What should be the Jewish response to ‘Cancel Culture’?

Posted on March 6, 2021

It seems as if we read something new each day about cancel culture — the phenomenon that is about one group or another attempting to take down living or dead people for real or supposed sins committed against individuals or groups. Oftentimes, it’s not just cultural, it’s political. Should we remove statutes of Abraham Lincoln because of some admittedly racist statements he made prior to be elected president? Should we remove certain Dr. Seuss books from our libraries due to his drawing slights of Asian Americans? Are we to silence people whose political views are different from ours by not letting them teach, lecture, or moderate panels at universities?

The bright lines are obvious: we shouldn’t allow Nazis to enjoy the privileges of sharing stages to debate white racism, etc. But it’s the gray areas that trouble us. Should Al Frankel have been put in the 21st century version of the pillory for some crude hand gestures while other public figures regularly demean opponents in vile ways yet suffer no consequences?

Nowadays, the fear of being shamed or worse (e.g., losing one’s job or even attacked) for a view that can be honestly discussed and debated is keeping people silent who should be allowed unfettered access to the public marketplace of ideas without fear of recrimination.

Unfortunately, the initial reaction of hearing or reading of a cultural infraction is to cancel someone, literally or figuratively.

And aren’t we tired of listening to deep bow-scraping screeds of self-flagellation from those who’ve made minor transgressions? It’s as if there’s a playbook or manual whose words are necessary and acceptable as first steps to regaining some measure of trust from those actually or supposed offended by what’s been said. Proportionality? Throw it out the window as you throw yourself under the what’s expected oncoming bus that carries the script for what you need to say, regardless of the magnitude of your offense. The Richter scale for cancel culture purists is always at 9.0.

Have we no room for teshuvah, a Hebrew word meaning repentance? From My Jewish Learning: “The process of repentance, as laid out by Maimonides, includes three stages: confession, regret and a vow not to repeat the misdeed. The true penitent, Maimonides says, is the one who finds himself with the opportunity to commit the same sin again yet declines to do so.”

No, let’s not misinterpret this to mean that anyone can get absolution and can be readmitted into the good graces of society simply by mouthing a few words (platitudes) to offset heinous speech or actions. But there ought to be room for genuine repentance for things said or actions taken that weren’t the equivalent of an atomic blast.

Personally, I’m not going to trash (read: cancel) Mark Twain for the use of the N word in Huckleberry Finn. And while I’m naturally upset that Thomas Jefferson — who wrote that all men are created equal — had slaves, nevertheless I don’t want him expunged from textbooks or systematically denigrated in biographies. Bring up that he had saves? Yes. Fault him for not freeing them? Yes. But cancel him? No.

And I hope that people will read (and accept) what Al Franken said in his resignation speech, that you can find here: https://www.politico.com/story/2017/12/07/al-franken-resignation-speech-transcript-full-text-285960. No deep bow-scraping, yet an awareness of issues about some of his actions. Personally, I think he should have stood his ground and remained in the Senate, but that isn’t what he felt comfortable doing.

I will continue to speak out against vile anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism whether in books, articles, movies, etc., but am not going to call on those members of the House who regularly use them to be forced out (cancelled). I’d rather fight them intellectually and know that it might take a long time to win, but a victory for truth will ultimately prevail.

And I’m going to continue to read some of the works of people whose language may be offensive to 21st century sensibilities. But understanding the times in which they lived — their context — is important to recognize.