Guernsey Press

The problem with ‘cancel culture’...

We no longer put people in stocks, but we still use humiliation and social exclusion to punish those who violate our moral codes, but are we missing an opportunity to turn things around? Hayley North considers the potential benefits of shifting the focus to re-education and re-integration.

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THE term ‘cancel culture’ is new, but the practice of ignoring and shunning someone who has done or said something that we think is wrong has existed since the beginning of time, or so I’m told by those who were there.

Although we like to think we are more sophisticated in these modern times, how much have we really moved on from those medieval days of humiliation and punishment with an audience in the town square?

Until the last recorded use of stocks in 1872, we threw rotten vegetables from our moral high ground at petty criminals whose bare feet were fastened into solid wooden contraptions in the heart of each village, jeering as each tomato or cabbage hit the target. The abuse was often much worse, including spitting, kicking and, believe or not, tickling.

The main purpose of putting wrongdoers in the stocks was to shame and humiliate them within their communities and thus deter them and others from committing crimes. It was highly effective but extremely unpleasant, and often had fatal consequences. The crimes committed could be as harmless as dancing on a Sunday or scrumping apples.

These stocks were centrally placed in the parishes, in Market Square in Guernsey, and near the prison in Sark, for example. I used to walk past a very well-preserved set in a small Yorkshire town on my way to school as a child. You will be relieved to learn that it was no longer in use but it did unsettle me. I used to reflect on how effective this must have been in deterring potential miscreants from misdeeds. Punishment was upgraded to execution for the worst offenders, a much more grim and equally public spectacle.

Fascinatingly (and alarmingly), stocks have never been officially abolished but we have found new ways to humiliate those who don’t play by the rules.

In the 21st century, rather than having to raid our compost heaps, ‘cancelling’ someone can be done in just a few clicks.

We hurl insults over Instagram, Facebook or Twitter and inflict pain via the bank balance in terms of sanctions of all kinds such as boycotts, bad reviews, cancelling contracts or withdrawing job offers, but we still don’t make much of an effort to rehabilitate and re-educate those who violate our moral codes. They often vanish from view.

We use fines, community service and prison sentences where laws have been broken. In all cases, offenders are temporarily or permanently tainted by their mistakes. They are excluded from society in many different ways and many struggle to recover from this.

On a bigger stage, a cancelled celebrity’s career can be ruined in seconds, as former Blue Peter presenter John Leslie found out in 2002, when he was inadvertently accused of assault on live television. Other famous names such as Johnny Depp, Amber Heard, Jimmy Carr, Ye (formerly Kanye West) and JK Rowling have fared better in recent times, but their reputations and finances have been permanently damaged by being ‘cancelled’ for their offensive views or behaviour.

Don’t get me wrong, social exclusion and public shaming have a big role to play in maintaining order and as a powerful disincentive to criminal behaviour and verbal abuse. Many of the things said and done are inexcusable and risk inciting hatred or escalating tensions. Some individuals are also a real threat to others, particularly to children and other vulnerable groups. I understand the need in these cases for society’s reaction to be prolonged and far-reaching.

The thing is we are still using ‘cancel culture’ and social exclusion as entertainment and that’s not healthy.

I’ve often wondered how wise it is in Guernsey that we publicly name and shame perpetrators of often minor, sometimes horrendous, crimes in these pages.

Court reporting is intended to create public confidence in justice and the law, and is intended to act as something of a deterrent. It’s important that we know that crime exists, that we understand what’s at stake, and it certainly motivates me to set my parking clock correctly, but to what extent does the consequential public shaming in a small community make the situation worse?

How far should it go? When someone has lost their job? Their home? Their friends? Their life?

Everyone in the Bailiwick knows how hard it is to recover from any kind of public humiliation and I wonder, are we missing an opportunity to turn things around?

A recent incident (‘Woman made racial remark to fellow bus passenger’, 29 October) on a local bus brought this into focus for me. This was clearly a horrific experience for the victim and no doubt traumatic for everyone on board. It raises big questions about why we feel safer committing crimes than we do challenging them, and calls for some practical improvements such as panic buttons on buses to silently alert police, or a dedicated text service for safe and anonymous reporting of crimes.

It also raises the important question, what next for the perpetrator? Once the community service is done, surely counselling and re-education are key to addressing the prejudice and the motivation for the abuse. We can’t simply expect this person to change her views overnight and without help. These kinds of views are usually deeply entrenched and are often linked to other issues. Without this support, she will be left vulnerable and isolated, shunned by most islanders and will have no choice but to continue to associate only with those who share her views, and thus nothing will change for the better.

We risk creating a marginalised group of people whom we deem unworthy of a normal life, those whose views we think are wrong, those who have made mistakes, those who have fallen on hard times – those we have cancelled.

I am told by reliable sources that many of those imprisoned in Guernsey reoffend simply because they have no social network or life outside of prison, and feel more comfortable inside. Recent reporting in these pages bears witness to this and this is an awful state of affairs.

Being held to account by your peers and community is vital in a civilised society. It can aid social progression and so how we do this is very important. Re-integration after being excluded is critical and developing a better understanding of why people do what they do is key. Some serial offenders may be beyond hope but most are not.

Many of us are just one, sometimes inadvertent, misstep away from being erased, whether permanently or temporarily, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the States. It was Deputy Dyke’s turn last week. His comments were controversial and, I would argue, misguided and inappropriate, but rather than cancel someone who has a lot to offer with his personal perspective, why not look more into what motivated his comments? What are we missing that might convince him that his fears are misplaced?

Mistakes, no matter how serious, are an opportunity to learn and grow. I make them every day. We should not be afraid of making mistakes and we need to be more open to recognising them, admitting we are at fault and working towards making amends. Addressing a small mistake with kindness and understanding, rather than leaping to judgement and humiliation, could prevent a more serious incident occurring in the future.

Rather than cancelling people indefinitely, we should be working with those who behave unacceptably to address the root causes and to re-educate them.

As the success of the recent anti-discrimination legislation has shown, we can influence long-held prejudice and positively change views for the better. So let’s keep doing that.

And before you get any ideas, I’m not ticklish.

u Hayley North is a chartered financial planner and is involved in many areas of local life.