Oprah Winfrey and misusing entertainment (and large) platforms

In my latest for Big Think, I use the whole “Oprah denies atheism” affair as a jump off point to examine her larger and damaging approach to thinking.

I don’t view all celebrity as bad. What I worry about is the uncritical or unthinking engagement so many have toward things they adore: From people to video games, nothing is sacred. That doesn’t mean we can’t be sensitive in how we criticise, of course, but neither does it mean our silence for fear of offence.

Celebrities can do good, of course. But we shouldn’t be afraid of calling them out just because their platform is larger than ours or just because they’ve, perhaps, done good in the world. As I indicate, doing good in one area doesn’t absolve you of wrong done elsewhere.

(PS: Please try refer to her as Oprah Winfrey or Winfrey. I have a small annoyance at referring to strangers by first name, who actually have a surname. [Hence, Madonna is fine and is after all her stage name])

Being a critic and being a fan

In my latest for Big Think, I argue that – in many cases – fandom runs counter to proper criticism.

This can be about films, comics, games, whatever. Passion for the thing can blind us to its flaws, making any form of negative criticism (or, indeed, adaptation) tantamount to an attack in passionate fans’ eyes.

Reasonable, justified criticism is essential to the creative process, which leads to the creation of better, beautiful things (it doesn’t need to be the case that today’s artists are better than the Leonardos of the craft, but it does mean today’s artists try to be and this can be aided by pointing out flaws in the Masters’ works).

Passion is great but can become poison. Sanctifying anything, it seems, is usually a bad move.

‘Cybersexism’ by Laurie Penny: a review and essay

I wrote a review for Laurie Penny’s book Cybersexism at Big Think.

In it, Penny, a well-known and much loved (and of course hated) British writer on politics, feminism and many other topics, outlines the current model of sexism online. Using her own and other women’s experiences, she outlines why it occurs, the ground from which such terrible treatment springs, sexism in general and what sorts of responses we can muster. Her insight, as always, is invaluable and potent.

I used this opportunity to give a perspective as someone who is not the target of sexism; I outline why I care (because we need to do that nowadays?), why others should and related matters.

I am a long-time fan of her work and it’s fantastic to read her in long-form.

Punishment and criminal HIV infection

A recent case in SA raised some questions for me about justice and stigma, and how – in some cases, like HIV – the two can’t be easily separated. That they relate at all was surprising enough.

In my latest at Big Think, I try to outline some dimensions some might be overlooking in their need to see “justice done”.

It’s interesting to note how often people clamour for justice, for something to be done, when a situation arises and yet, how the demand for justice is its own downfall. Or rather unmitigated hysteria. For example, we know that criminalising sex work and drugs – at the very least marijuana – has little basis in reason, but plenty of basis in popularity. As Plato hinted at, laws in democracies are made to be popular not right.

But when justice becomes synonymous with revenge, with knee-jerk moralistic action – rather than thought-out, evidence-based approaches that will help everyone in the society, that will reduce suffering – then we’re no longer talking about justice. We’re talking about mob mentality.

I’m reminded of a powerful scene in The West Wing where – no spoilers – a character’s child is harmed in some way by bad people. The character trolls another in saying they should revise whether capital punishment should be nation-wide and mandatory (for certain crimes). The second character points out that what the other man will do as a father, versus what he should do as a servant of the people, are in conflict; the law is there to be the voice of the latter, for the benefit of all, not a tool to benefit the heightened emotions of a grief-stricken father. What use is law when its wielded by the loudest, the strongest, the most grief-stricken?

This is one of the reasons I consider capital punishment to be immoral – to some degree – since it has no retraction possibility; it’s always closing the door on backtracking our possible mistakes. This doesn’t mean I think capital punishment is the worst punishment – I think, along with John Stuart Mill, that (life) imprisonment can be “a living tomb”, especially as we know reports out of places like Guantanamo, as the incredible Molly Crabapple showed.

Anyway, justice as always is complicated and we mustn’t let our desire for it overshadow its actual purpose in being effective.

We know how this will end

Death – or rather dying – is terrifying for many people. Watching or hearing about a great figure like Mandela – one of the greatest figures and leaders of my country – suffering from the inevitable break down of his old body is difficult. However, at Big Think, I’ve taken issue with much reporting of it and the equally inevitable issues of sensitivities that will arise: Are you sad enough, are you grieving enough, are you respectful enough, etc.

In case you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend my favourite Christopher Hitchens documentary that examines parts of British media that were censored, following another almost universally loved figure, the Princess of Wales’, death. It makes for depressing viewing: where emotions and a rather creepy mob mentality undermined critical reporting and writing.

Hence, Hitchens.

Should we help prisoners to kill themselves?

My latest post is up on Big Think, where I examine the ethics of a convicted rapist facing life imprisonment. He is requesting that he be put to death.

In this short piece, I look at whether we should or shouldn’t help him die. Prisoner ethics and the morality surrounding punishment is something I find incredibly important.