Alright – another thing.
There’s a moment in Jaclyn Glenn’s video where, frustrated, she asks the caricatured social justice warrior: ‘Can’t I say anything without offending you?’ I’m giving this its own short post partly because as a loose end, it wouldn’t have fit anywhere in the previous one, and partly because it’s not really to do with her. I’ve heard this line and variations of it everywhere. It’s the same idea that lurks behind the statement folk like me are ‘desperate to be offended’; that I’m a ‘rage blogger’; that I’m thin-skinned or hypersensitive, ‘looking for something to be angry about’.
Sometimes the answer to the question really is ‘no’. There are people who piss me off whenever they open their mouths, and there are rent-a-gobs – Jeremy Clarkson, Frankie Boyle, Katie Hopkins – who’ve forged thriving careers in gratuitous offensiveness. There’s a certain symbiosis there, because I’d have much less material if not for them: objecting to the objectionable is, I admit, part of my livelihood, but that doesn’t make it an affection. Surely someone has to?
Religious conservatives frequently paint themselves as reasonable voices of the people cowed by PC hysteria, as if the fault is with those telling them they’re off-base. This seems to me just as true of atheist feminists’ opponents, who tend to pride themselves on being unoffended, getting blocked or prompting outrage: these things are, for them, signs of superior cool logic and maturity. The problem is never with them. What’s the litmus test, anyway, for being a lone voice of reason versus somebody people don’t like?
Sometimes other people are right. There’s a possibility that when most things you say are called odious – I’m speaking here to no one in particular – they are. If folk stop listening to you, it may not be that they can’t stand your superior thoughts; it may be that they can’t stand you. If you can’t say anything without offending them, it may not be you’re a mouthpiece for hard-to-swallow home truths; it may be you’re an arsehole.