Thema A

Thema A: To silence cancel culture, our craven elite needs only to change its tune

by Matthew Syed

A couple of weeks ago, Róisín Murphy¹ posted concerns on a private Facebook page about

puberty blockers². For those unfamiliar with Murphy, she’s a singer who has long supported

the trans community, having performed at queer gigs such as Homobloc and Mighty Hoopla.

On any reasonable interpretation, then, her post was an expression of concern for children,

not bigotry. The backlash, though, was acute. “Trans allies” attacked her on social media and

her name trended for days. A Guardian review of Murphy’s new album appeared under the

headline “ugly stain”. The critic said that while she loved the music, she would “never” be able

to hear it the same way again and sympathised with fans for whom the album was “DOA” (dead

on arrival).

Next came the institutional backlash. Murphy’s record label reportedly stopped promoting

the album. Two gigs were cancelled. The BBC dropped a planned celebration of her work,

although claimed this was coincidence. Its 6 Music station did not play Murphy’s music for two

weeks (although it has played a song by another artist with the line “kick terfs all day” — a

pejorative term referring to women who oppose trans people using female-only spaces.)

On Friday we learnt that Murphy’s album had gone straight into the top ten, partly because

people who supported her views had bought it (and also because it is apparently excellent).

This has led some pundits to claim that [this] represents a kick in the teeth for cancel culture

— evidence that we are, as a society, turning the corner. This, I think, is dangerously mistaken,

a point to which I’ll return.

First, though, let’s go back to how this story played out last week, for it reveals the prism

through which most liberals (in the classical sense) view cancel culture. The villains, to this

frame of mind, are online activists, keyboard warriors, the trans fundamentalists who went after

Murphy. It was these people who took a private communication and turned it into a battering

ram. As one Times reader put it: “These people are destroying free speech.”

I feel the tug of these sentiments; indeed, I’ve often expressed them. But I can’t help

thinking that it frames the wrong problem in the wrong way. After all, talk to advocates of cancel

culture and they’ll say that they are defenders of free speech. They will say that in the same

way that Murphy has the right to question puberty blockers, they have the right to condemn

her for it. They will say their actions are lawful and in a long tradition of boycotts. And, to a

point, I think they’re right.

I felt much the same way a few months ago about those who protested outside British

cinemas screening the Bollywood film The Kerala Story. Hardline Muslims felt the movie (which

was about Islamic State) was disrespectful to the faith, despite moderates claiming it had been

sensitively produced. […]

The number of people who signed an online petition calling for The Kerala Story to be

cancelled was 120,000, which might sound like a lot but is less than 0.2 per cent of the British

population.

Cineworld nevertheless canned³ the movie, thereby undermining the enjoyment of the

majority. A peer called this a “blasphemy law by proxy⁴”. A better term is institutional

spinelessness.

And isn’t this a pattern we see again and again? It only takes a thousand or so people —

less than 0.002 per cent of the population — to send a hashtag flying on Twitter⁵ but how often

do we see not only record labels but big corporations and even editors genuflecting to these

trends? What are they frightened of? To go weak-kneed at the sight of these ripples on the

surface of cyberspace is a category error, a kind of selection bias, and a betrayal of the silent

majority. It also incites online activists to become more punitive, doubtless astonished that they

wield such power.

And this reveals the real significance of the Murphy story. It is not that cancellation has

met its match; rather, it’s that most modern controversies represent a kind of illusion. Yes,

Murphy trended. Yes, her comments were a big deal on Twitter. But most people are not on

Twitter and even fewer post on it.

What almost destroyed Murphy’s career wasn’t an online spasm but the craven

overreaction of her record label, venues, the BBC. And what saved her? That’s right:

thousands of people (far more than those calling for her boycott) sending her album up the

charts.

In other words, there was always a latent majority who supported Murphy; people who

defended her right to express an opinion; who felt uneasy that a private communication had

become a smoking gun; and who also agreed with her views on puberty blockers. The problem

is that most people subject to cancellation don’t have a mechanism, album or otherwise,

through which majority support can be expressed. This is why they have nowhere to turn when

institutions fail them.

The scholar Nassim Nicholas Taleb has coined the phrase “the tyranny of the minority”. It

relates to the way small groups bend larger groups to their will. […]

It doesn’t need to be this way. If professors knew they could teach curricula without being

sacked by craven administrators, they wouldn’t live in fear of activists; if directors knew they

could make films without being betrayed by studios, they wouldn’t fear protests. And if

employees knew they could go about their lives without bosses buckling to activists on the

company intranet, they wouldn’t engage in the self-censorship that has become endemic.

¹Róisín Murphy – born in 1973, Irish singer, songwriter and record producer

²puberty blockers – medical treatment to postpone the hormone-induced physical changes of puberty, often used to give transgender youth more time to explore their gender identity

³to can sth. – here: to stop showing the movie

⁴proxy – authority given to a person to act for someone else

⁵Twitter – social media network, renamed ‘X’ by owner Elon Musk in 2023

927 words

Syed, M. (2023). To silence cancel culture, our craven elite needs only to change its tune. The Sunday Times. 17 September 2023.

Assignments

Outline the information on the two cases of cancel culture.

(20 %)

Analyse how the author conveys his view on cancel culture. Focus on communicative strategies and use of language.

(40 %)

Choose one of the following tasks:

3.1

Taking the article as a starting point, assess to what extent silencing artistic expression has consequences for society.

3.2

You are participating in the "European Youth Event", a conference organised by the European Parliament, and have been asked to deliver a speech on social media and the future of democracy.

Write a speech, commenting on the notion that social media have a negative effect on democratic processes.

(40 %)

Weiter lernen mit SchulLV-PLUS!

monatlich kündbarSchulLV-PLUS-Vorteile im ÜberblickDu hast bereits einen Account?

Please Note: The solutions presented here are just one possible way to approach the task. There are often multiple valid methods and perspectives, and alternative approaches may be equally effective.

In his article “To silence cancel culture, our craven elite needs only to change its tune”, published in The Sunday Times on 17 September 2023, Matthew Syed discusses two examples of cancel culture and criticises the reactions of institutions to public pressure.

The first case concerns the singer Róisín Murphy. She expressed concerns about puberty blockers on a private Facebook page, although she had supported the trans community for many years. After her comments became public, she faced strong criticism online from trans activists. A review of her new album in a major British newspaper was negatively influenced by the controversy. In addition, her record label reportedly stopped promoting the album, concerts were cancelled, and the BBC cancelled a planned programme about her and temporarily stopped playing her music. Despite this backlash, her album still became very successful and entered the top ten charts.

The second case is about the Bollywood film The Kerala Story. Some Muslims considered the film offensive to Islam because it dealt with Islamic State. As a result, an online petition demanded that the film should no longer be shown in cinemas. Although only a relatively small number of people signed the petition, the cinema chain Cineworld decided to withdraw the film from its programme.

In his article “To silence cancel culture, our craven elite needs only to change its tune”, published in The Sunday Times in September 2023, Matthew Syed criticises cancel culture and especially the willingness of institutions to give in to pressure from small but vocal activist groups. He conveys his view through emotional language, contrasts, rhetorical questions and examples that are intended to persuade the reader that cancel culture threatens free speech.

First of all, Syed presents cancel culture as aggressive and excessive by using strongly negative language. When describing the reaction to Róisín Murphy’s comments, he uses words and quotations with negative connotations such as “the backlash … was acute” (l. 5), “attacked” (l. 5), “ugly stain” (l. 7) and “DOA” (l. 8). This choice of words creates the impression that Murphy was treated unfairly and harshly. In addition, the enumeration of consequences — “record label reportedly stopped promoting the album”, “gigs were cancelled”, “BBC dropped … celebration” (ll. 10–11) — emphasizes the extent of the punishment and its damaging effects on the artist’s career.

Furthermore, the author criticises institutions and companies for reacting too quickly to online pressure. He repeatedly uses negatively connotated expressions to describe them, for example “institutional spinelessness” (ll. 39-40), “weak-kneed” (l. 44) and “our craven elite” in the title. These metaphors suggest cowardice and weakness. Through this language, Syed shifts the blame away from online activists and towards companies, media organisations and cultural institutions that comply with demands for boycotts. His rhetorical questions such as “What are they frightened of?” (l. 44) and “how often do we see … corporations and even editors genuflecting to these trends?” (ll. 42-44) encourage readers to question the behaviour of these institutions as well.

Another important communicative strategy is the contrast between a small vocal minority and a silent majority. Syed supports this argument with statistics and figures, for example “120,000” signatures being “less than 0.2 per cent” of the population (l. 36) or “less than 0.002 per cent” creating trends on Twitter (l. 42). These numbers are used to show that only a tiny minority influences public debate disproportionately. At the same time, he repeatedly refers to the “majority” that supposedly disagrees with cancel culture but remains silent. This idea is reinforced through parallel structures and enumeration, for example “people who … who … and who …” (ll. 56-58), which highlights the broad range of people supporting Murphy.

Moreover, Syed presents cancel culture as a threat to free speech. He introduces different perspectives by acknowledging that activists see themselves as “defenders of free speech” (l. 27). However, he contrasts this with the accusation that “These people are destroying free speech” (l. 24). This juxtaposition underlines the complexity of the debate while still making clear which side the author supports. He also uses metaphors such as “battering ram” (ll. 23-24) to portray online outrage as violent and destructive.

Finally, the article ends with conditional sentences and parallelism: “if professors knew … they wouldn’t”, “if directors knew … they wouldn’t” and “if employees knew … they wouldn’t” (ll. 64-68). This repetitive structure strengthens his argument that fear and self-censorship have become widespread in society. The final metaphor that self-censorship “has become endemic” (l. 68) suggests that the problem is deeply rooted and spreading like a disease. In this way, Syed leaves the reader with the impression that society urgently needs to change its attitude towards cancel culture.

Overall, Syed combines emotional language, rhetorical devices, statistics and examples to criticise cancel culture and especially the reactions of institutions. His communicative strategies are designed to persuade readers that a small but vocal minority has gained too much influence over public debate and freedom of expression.

3.1

In his article “To silence cancel culture, our craven elite needs only to change its tune”, Matthew Syed argues that artists and media professionals are increasingly silenced by small but vocal activist groups and by institutions that react fearfully to criticism. Starting from this argument, it can be said that silencing artistic expression can indeed have serious consequences for society, although the impact may vary depending on the situation and the form of art involved.

One major consequence is the restriction of freedom of expression. In democratic societies, artistic freedom is an important civil right because art often encourages debate, criticism and new perspectives. If artists fear public outrage, boycotts or professional consequences, many may begin to censor themselves. As Syed points out, institutions and companies often try to avoid controversy and therefore fail to protect artists sufficiently. This can create an atmosphere of fear in which people avoid expressing unpopular opinions. Over time, this weakens open public discourse and limits the diversity of viewpoints in society.

In addition, silencing artistic expression can lead to cultural homogenisation. Art plays an important role in reflecting social problems, questioning norms and giving minorities or controversial perspectives a voice. If only “safe” or widely accepted opinions are tolerated, cultural products may become less diverse and less innovative. Throughout history, many important works of art were initially criticised or considered offensive but later contributed to social progress. Therefore, restricting artistic freedom may also reduce society’s ability to confront difficult issues and develop new ideas.

Furthermore, the consequences for artists themselves can be severe. Public backlash or institutional cancellation may destroy careers, damage reputations and lead to financial problems not only for artists but also for related industries such as entertainment, media or tourism. In the article, the example of Róisín Murphy shows how quickly artists can lose support from companies or broadcasters once controversy arises. Such developments may discourage creative people from taking artistic risks in the future.

However, the influence of silencing art on society should not be exaggerated. Not all artistic fields reach large audiences, and some forms of censorship may therefore have only limited effects on society as a whole. In addition, attempts to suppress art often fail completely. History shows that artists frequently find creative ways to express criticism indirectly through satire, symbolism or allusions. In some cases, censorship even increases public interest in controversial works because people become curious about what is being suppressed.

Moreover, societies also have to balance artistic freedom with other values such as respect and protection from discrimination. Critics of certain artworks may argue that public protest and boycotts are themselves forms of free expression. Therefore, not every criticism of art automatically represents dangerous censorship. The real problem begins when institutions or companies react disproportionately and silence artists out of fear rather than engaging in open discussion.

Overall, silencing artistic expression can have significant negative consequences for society because it restricts freedom of expression, discourages creativity and weakens open debate. Nevertheless, art is often resilient, and attempts to suppress it are not always successful. For this reason, societies should protect artistic freedom as far as possible while still allowing critical discussion about controversial works and opinions.

3.2

Ladies and gentlemen,
dear participants of the European Youth Event,

social media have become one of the most powerful forces shaping modern democracies. Platforms such as Instagram, Tiktok, or X influence how we receive information, discuss political issues and form opinions. Many people therefore argue that social media are damaging democratic processes. While there is truth in this claim, the reality is more complex. Social media can weaken democracy, but they can also strengthen it depending on how they are used.

On the one hand, there are undeniable dangers. One major problem is the spread of misinformation and fake news. False or misleading information can spread online within minutes and often reaches millions of people before it can be corrected. As a result, trust in democratic institutions, journalism and even scientific facts may decline. Especially during elections, manipulated content and conspiracy theories can influence public opinion and voting behaviour.

Another negative effect is the increasingly aggressive tone of public debate online. Social media algorithms often reward emotional and extreme content because it generates more attention and interaction. This contributes to echo chambers and filter bubbles in which users mainly encounter opinions similar to their own. Instead of encouraging dialogue, social media can therefore deepen divisions within society. In many countries, online discussions about politics have become more hostile and polarised.

In addition, personal data can be exploited for political purposes. Through targeted advertising, microtargeting and even bots, political actors are able to influence users in highly sophisticated ways. Citizens may believe they are making independent decisions while actually being manipulated by algorithms designed to maximise emotional reactions and engagement.

Furthermore, online harassment discourages many people from participating in democratic debates. Journalists, politicians, activists and ordinary citizens are often attacked or insulted online for expressing their views. This can create fear and silence people who would otherwise contribute to public discussions. Democracy, however, depends on citizens who are willing to speak openly and participate actively.

Nevertheless, focusing only on the negative aspects would ignore the enormous democratic potential of social media. These platforms have also made information more accessible than ever before. People today can follow political events in real time, access a wide range of perspectives and educate themselves independently of traditional media. This can increase political awareness, especially among young people.

Moreover, social media allow individuals and smaller organisations to reach large audiences without needing enormous financial resources. Political participation is therefore no longer limited to governments, parties or traditional media outlets. Citizens can organise protests, raise awareness for social issues and mobilise support quickly and effectively. In countries where traditional media are controlled by the state, social media may even provide one of the few spaces for free expression.

Social media also give marginalised groups a stronger voice. Many people who were previously ignored in public discourse can now share their experiences, connect with others and make their concerns visible to a broader audience. In this sense, social media can contribute to a more inclusive democracy.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the future of democracy will not be decided by technology alone, but by how we as societies choose to regulate and use it. Social media are neither purely destructive nor purely beneficial. They are powerful tools that can strengthen democracy through participation and information, but they can also weaken it through manipulation, polarisation and intimidation.

Therefore, our task is not to reject social media entirely. Instead, we must promote media literacy, strengthen independent journalism, improve transparency of algorithms and ensure that online platforms are held accountable for harmful practices. Democracy has always evolved alongside new forms of communication. The challenge for our generation is to ensure that social media serve democratic values rather than undermine them.

Thank you very much.

Weiter lernen mit SchulLV-PLUS!

monatlich kündbarSchulLV-PLUS-Vorteile im ÜberblickDu hast bereits einen Account?