In internet parlance, “Why do they?”
We ask ourselves this frequently.
Before we jump in, we want to thank all of our listeners and readers (and anyone related to us who has dragged themselves here out of familial obligation). Thank you! We appreciate your support, and we want you to know that we also support you.
This episode is a re-air of a previous episode on problematic authors and what to do when you find out one of your favs is an issue.
Warning: This episode contains discussions of transphobia, assault, and homophobia.
The audio also contains cursing. Because some of these people are just s*** bags.
See all our transcripts, support us on Ko-Fi, and shop our book lists here: https://linktr.ee/inksinkpodcast
The inescapable question (or so it seems)
This year, Deadline reported that Warner Bros. Discovery will be producing a new Harry Potter TV show for its Max streaming service. And the author of the original series, J.K. Rowling, plans to be heavily involved.
The backlash was immediate and predictable. Many consumers have opted to eschew new HP content, protesting Rowling’s comments about trans people. In support, the main cast of the HP films has publicly disagreed with the author’s anti-trans stance.
To be clear, Rowling’s been open about her belief that trans people are physically dangerous to others. She’s also said that biological sex and gender are inseparable and that anyone who says otherwise is purposely disingenuous. She shared her beliefs broadly on Twitter (now X?) in 2020 and has continued to lobby the U.K. government to block legislation that would help trans Britons. (You can read more about this in Variety.)
Why does any of this matter? Well, this new HP show will be taking creative direction from Rowling directly and will benefit her financially.
For many, a transphobic person actively lobbying against the safety and personhood of trans people is too much. Whether these people are trans themselves, have trans friends, or are simply supporters of human rights, they refuse to accept that kind of hate behind their entertainment.
As in all things, your hosts are not objective. We are biased toward acceptance of our fellow humans. And we refuse to believe that someone living their lives outwardly displaying their own gender should be a dispute. (And before the arguments come, yes, we believe that people who commit violent crimes should be in jail. These views aren’t mutually exclusive, for goodness sake.)
And to our readers and listeners: Please consume media safely and responsibly for yourself, however that looks. Know that you can still love something and be comforted by it even if its creators have proven to be against what you believe in (or worse, against you, personally). Check in with yourself. We want you to understand where you can be safe before you dive into something that could be a source of pain.
This episode is for you.
Let’s dive into it: Why do we separate the art from the artist?
A school of thought rose up during the 20th century that we call “Death of the Author.” Scholars in this movement actually didn’t think there was much connection between an artist and the work they produced once it was out in the world.
Building on the idea, French literary critic Roland Barthes collected several similar threads and began asking the question directly: Does the intention behind the art matter? Or is it only and solely the reader that matters? (For a more modern take, Constance Grady discusses the origin of the idea in her own article on this topic, published by Vox.)
Essentially, once art is published, the creator is dead! (They’re dead, Jim!)
But are they?
Well, no. That’s kind of not possible, at least not fully. Some incredible art has come from deeply personal places and can’t be separated from that context. Frida Kahlo (described here by Isabella Gomez Sarmiento in Teen Vogue) and Nina Simone (covered by Liz Fields and published by PBS) are two examples of artists whose art has been directly and inseparably inspired by their experiences and goals.
Unfortunately, that cuts both ways. People with messages or goals that run counter to yours, or those who would wish harm on you directly, also make art.
We’ve talked about J.K. Rowling’s objectively bad opinions here, but there are others we can point to. Ender’s Game author Orson Scott Card is an outspoken and avid homophobe, and family sitcom star Bill Cosby sexually assaulted several women over the years (no, he wasn’t exonerated).
Philosophy lecturer Phillip Deen, writing about Cosby in Studies in American Humor, said that sometimes separating the art from the artist is essential. However, he makes the point that it depends on the art, the artist, and, notably, the perceived harm that is or isn’t done by separating them out.
Consider Georgia O’Keefe’s passionate denial that her paintings were anatomy rather than flowers. Some critics attribute this perspective to a persistent male lens, but many women (including your hosts) tend to agree that the images very clearly evoke anatomy. Influence from the author does matter, but so does interpretation from the viewer or reader. And, at the end of the day, is art not in the eye of the beholder?
So, how can we navigate the questions of relevance (who is relevant), harm (who is being injured), and benefit (who is benefiting) as we try to navigate bad-faith artists today?
Help! My childhood has been hijacked and I don’t want to pay the ransom!
There have always been shitty people.
Sometimes, those shitty people have been artists earning a living from public consumption of their art. Sometimes, those harmful views may be covertly and insidiously present.
Music philosophy professor Robin James writes in Popular Music Studies that it’s not always immediately apparent when a message is harmful, especially when artists and authors have been around since before their prejudices were known. This means that a harmful view can be subtly spread by the content itself.
Alternatively, the creator can profit from and build an expanded platform through their work. As we said above, Rowling has been using her public platform to lobby the U.K. government against legislation supporting trans people.
So, how do we find a middle ground where we can get value from art without benefitting its creator? Well, in James’ words: we need a non-zero sum answer. There isn’t a simple, “Yes, it’s possible to engage with art without considering the artist” or “No, that isn’t possible, and furthermore…”
We can work with the art, to find the value in it, and against it as well.
We can turn whatever beauty we find to our own purposes without giving fresh money to someone who will use it for things that could hurt us.
We don’t have to support the creator through exposure or profits. But we can hold onto the pleasure we derive from the art, perhaps in spite of its creator.
As an example of someone who was actively injured by an artist during the creative process but didn’t let it ruin their appreciation: Tippi Hedren has baldly stated (and written about) Alfred Hitchcock’s sexual abuse while she worked on films with him, and yet she still acknowledged his talent.
So, can art and the artist be separated? The long answer is a personal journey through the forest of your own comfort, and then a more objective look at who benefits from your engagement (whether that’s buying, clicking, or voting).
Are you giving more resources, power, or platform to a person who espouses intolerance? If you don’t support an artist, but you want to read or watch their content, we feel that the best path forward is to avoid empowering the person or entity pushing the harm!
For example, for many living authors, what they care about is money.
When a creator is dead, and their estate is no longer earning money to support their bad-faith platform, rejoice! At the end of the day, for this topic, dead people don’t matter.
Art without an audience, without engagement, is nothing. It's about the human condition and when one side of an equation is gone, what remains is what the audience puts into it.
On the other hand, if you’ve realized that the creator of beloved literature from your childhood is actively campaigning against your existence or opposes your moral beliefs diametrically, there’s still hope.
There are some ways to engage with their work while trying to reduce harm.
Borrow: Checking out your local library’s physical books, movies, or video games doesn’t give additional money to publishers or authors.
Thrift: Used book shops and online resellers have an entirely alternative revenue stream and frequently also carry films, books, and games.
Research: Some estates of deceased artists have taken proactive steps to learn and grow, which might change your mind about supporting them. As reported by Alexandra Alter and Elizabeth A. Harris in the New York Times, the estate controlling Dr. Seuss’s children’s books has revisited and removed some that featured harmful, racist stereotypes.
Wait: In many cases, harm can be reduced by just waiting for material to be available through channels that dramatically reduce the benefit to creators. Get it cheaper and give them less money. (There are other issues with that, of course, but that’s for another episode.)
Pivot: Consider what you want to get out of consuming the art in question – do you need to engage with that specific content, or is there other content that would equally scratch the itch?
For the new HP MMO, for example, do you have to play that one, or can you play a non-HP magic school game? (Kali recommends Ikenfell.) Do you already own previous HP video games? Or can any of those, used, fill the same space?Donate: Support the injured parties socially and, if you can, financially. Donate to charities that help uplift those impacted by the person whose media you consume. Seek out positive representations of the injured parties in art as well! The podcast Fansplaining has an episode devoted to trans characters in media and trans headcanons in fandom, which we recommend.
Ultimately, the answer to this discussion is to be thoughtful and considerate of yourself and how your engagement impacts the world. You don’t have to avoid consuming art – you can live in the world in ways that don’t injure you. Focus on your own health and safety, first and foremost.
And consider that we are probably not going to fix the world by boycotting Harry Potter, but by our support for and activism on behalf of each other.
James, in her piece, writes that “Fetishization of revolution devalues and ignores the existing practices of care that oppressed people have performed—often for centuries—to survive and thrive within unjust institutions. […]Creating everyday pleasures, especially the joy of pleasures shared with others, is a way oppressed peoples carve out smaller, habitable worlds in a universe whose current structure requires their physical, social, and/or civil death. These everyday pleasures are a lot easier to accomplish than, say, fixing sexism. We can do them now while we work on that bigger, longer-term fix.”