The Elephant of Cancel Culture

In the summer of 2020, a single tweet from J.K. Rowling ignited a public controversy, placing her at the centre of a global debate. Rowling’s tweet raised concerns about single-sex spaces, spoke to women’s rights, and referenced her own history of surviving abuse. The reaction was swift and polarizing, with responses ranging from vocal criticism to book burnings of her renowned Harry Potter series and dedicated campaigns labeling her as transphobic.

Last year, Megan Phelps-Roper explored these events in her podcast series The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling. In the series, Phelps-Roper interviews Rowling and voices from all sides to unpack the controversy—a microcosm of today’s culture, marked by polarization, division, and cancel culture.

Megan Phelps-Roper hosts this conversation formed by her own history of being swirled into the public discourse of vitriol and tribal thinking. From her early Westboro Baptist church upbringing, Phelps-Roper, not only upheld her doctrines, but zealously promoted them from street corners, often protesting with offensive messages.

It was when she took her messaging online, that her awareness shifted. She was quite familiar with the hatred and disgust of those she offended on street corners, but what disarmed her was the kindness she received. It was strangers online, who spoke with kindness, friendly mockery and civil conversation that ultimately helped her see that she needed to make a shift.

Trampled by the Elephant

The “Elephant” of Cancel Culture, like Groupthink, promotes conformity but through an intensified fear: fear of losing one’s job, being disinvited, de-platformed, or otherwise punished for dissenting views. In Rowling’s case, instead of addressing her views directly, she was publicly vilified, essentially trampled by the elephants. Cancel culture suppresses conflict rather than engaging it, bypassing constructive debate and leaving us collectively less informed.

This culture of cancellation allows us to avoid contending with opposing ideas by dismissing not only the views but the individuals behind them. Although some instances of offensive speech might seem deserving of this treatment, who determines what qualifies as offensive? As cancel culture escalates, it creates environments where people fear speaking up, anxious about being labeled or misunderstood.

In The Canceling of the American Mind, Greg Lukianoff and Rikki Schlott document this trend on college campuses, where “bias hotlines” allow students to report perceived transgressions. While anonymous reporting has its place, have we built the discernment to know when an offence warrants action versus a conversation? As a college instructor in conflict management, I see firsthand the need to engage challenging topics. Learning environments should encourage “un-askable” questions and thoughtful debates, allowing students to wrestle with controversy and refine their beliefs. Avoiding uncomfortable discussions only deepens ignorance, as understanding what’s behind people’s beliefs has the greatest likelihood of disrupting their current thinking and making them curious to alternate ideas.

Reflecting in Everyday Life

Not all of us are guilty of widespread public campaigns, or holding someone’s employment in the balance based on something they said, but have you ever mentally dismissed someone based on surface judgments or ideological affiliations? I catch myself guilty of this mindset approaching the content I consume—whether it’s the podcasts I listen to, the books I read, or the environments I immerse myself in. I can group different thought leaders into my own narrow categories and pre-decide who is “safe” and who I should avoid. Effectively, dismissing anyone who has ideas counter to my own. What I see over time is that it weakens my existing beliefs. Because if I rarely engage with counter arguments, or opposing ideas, I become vulnerable, misinformed to why my specific beliefs are important.

Alternatively, I have been on the receiving end of this quick dismissal when I had colleagues label me as “angry.” While I didn’t suffer punitive judgment from this categorization, I suffered from the assumptions made about me that led to a group of people disengaging from my thoughts, beliefs, and underlying motivations. What I found most sobering was that the notion of me being angry didn’t compel the group to explore deeper. Had they asked, I would have been grateful to speak to my experiences, to help them understand what led to my felt response (which was more accurately disappointment and frustration), and to discuss possible ways to address the issues I detected. Lack of engagement and debate led to a lack of understanding and broken relationships.

In cancel culture, a single thought or association can eclipse someone’s entire identity, allowing us to sidestep the deeper work of understanding. When we “cancel” others, we dehumanize them and miss opportunities for dialogue, growth, accountability, and connection.

It Doesn’t Actually Work

If all of this doesn’t convince you, then we can address the elephant of cancel culture by highlighting that it doesn’t actually work. Cancel culture doesn’t achieve its intended goal; instead, it often amplifies the ideas it seeks to silence. Attempts to “squash” viewpoints frequently solidify support for them in echo chambers as people rally behind the ideas.

Additionally, if someone is not spreading harmful ideas, but simply expressing a divergent viewpoint, canceling individuals in this way has had sobering effects. Where people’s lives are upended, careers ruined, and they don’t see a way forward through the despair. 

The Balance of Accountability

While accountability is crucial, canceling bypasses genuine engagement and jumps straight to punishment. It pushes out dissent rather than encouraging critical thinking. Living in a society that values free speech, we should resist erasing difficult conversations, as these dialogues strengthen resilience. Engaging with opposing ideas helps us grow; avoidance leaves us ill-prepared.

A Way Forward

The way forward is not to accept everything we disagree with, it’s to develop resilience by engaging with challenging concepts and dialoguing with disagreements. In The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling, Phelps-Roper aimed to bridge the gap between what people say and how they’re understood—a gap that too often widens in polarized settings. This is the work of being human—contending with disagreement, our tribal patterns, and in the midst of it all, discerning what’s right and wrong.

When we are curious about people, their behaviour, their motivations, their hopes, and their fears, we gain information that can better inform how we should respond. If we believe that conflict presents an opportunity to develop our resilience, build trust in our relationships, and gain understanding of others, the elephant of cancel culture is standing in the way.

Stay Curious,

Jodi