The Tone Argument: What counts as an insult?

I

A contentious issue, both within the "social justice community" (to the extent that's a thing) and in relations between the social justice community and the wider culture, is the "tone argument." The idea is that it's in some sense wrong to criticize the tone of people advocating for social justice, attacking bigotry, etc. As Geek Feminism wiki puts it:

A tone argument is an argument used in discussions, sometimes by Concern trolls and sometimes a Derailment, in which it is suggested that feminist would be more successful if only they expressed themselves in a more pleasant tone. . . . 

The tone argument is a form of derailment, or a red herring, because the tone of a statement is independent of the content of the statement in question, and calling attention to it distracts from the issue at hand. Drawing attention to the tone rather than the content of a statement can allow other parties to avoid engaging with sound arguments presented in that statement, thus undermining the original party's attempt to communicate and effectively shutting them down.

Or, as Katherine Cross puts it in this article:

In rule form, the tone argument might be expressed as follows: Any attempt to discuss or criticize the tone of an activist is a deliberate attempt at leveraging institutional power to silence the marginalized and must be avoided at all costs.

In other words: an argument's tone is separate from its content, so focusing on the former is distracting attention away from the latter. Combine this with the fact, also mentioned by Cross, that anti-bigotry activists (especially those from marginalized groups) are often dismissed as being e.g. too "angry" even when they have extremely valid points, and dismissing criticism of tone as an improper "tone argument" may seem quite reasonable.

However, some argue that the tone argument should not be dismissed out of hand, because sometimes the tone of a social justice activist really is improper, wrong, and hurtful. As Cross goes on to argue:

To put it simply: sometimes someone is being too angry. . . . Sometimes you are just being too loud, abusing people verbally, triggering them, and so forth. Sometimes you are just being a jerk and your tone is a fairly reliable indicator of this.

Or, as George R.R. Martin argued in the context of the Sad Puppies incident last year (which I'm not going to even attempt to summarize right now):

The way I have seen it work, dozens of times now, is that a debate or discussion starts out as a reasonable exchange of ideas, but then grows heated. Tempers fray, names are called, the posts get uglier and uglier... and someone, or maybe a bunch of someones, steps over the line and says something truly cruel or hurtful or just nasty. And the target, or maybe a bystander, objects and says, "no call for language like that" or "can't we all calm down" or something along that line... whereupon a loud cry of "Tone Argument, Tone Argument, Tone Argument" goes up, and person [sic] who called for calm is shouted down or torn apart. 

. . . . 

I applaud the Tone Argument. The Tone Argument is valid. Yay for the Tone Argument. 

We can disagree with each other without attacking each other. And no, I am not going to listen to you if you're screaming at me and calling me offensive names. You shouldn't either, no matter who you are. None of us should have to put up with that shit.

This, too, may seem quite reasonable. If X, in the course of an argument, tells Y to kill themselves, it appears that X has done something wrong and we should criticize X's tone regardless of the quality of their argument (and indeed, even regardless of the quality of Y's character).

Of course, with rare exception, I think most would agree that heartfelt violent rhetoric like that is inappropriate and wrong. One of the difficulties with the "tone argument" is that there are many types of "uncivil" tone, but discussions of the "tone argument" tend to ignore specifics and deal in generalities. Most would agree it is wrong to tell someone to kill themselves (much less to actually threaten violence, rape, etc), while most would agree it's legitimate to merely tell someone their opinion is wrong. The question, then, is where to draw the line.

However, in this post I will argue that it is wrong to draw this line based on what level of vitriolic tone we consider acceptable, and indeed, that insisting on a civil tone and lack of insults actually focuses on entirely the wrong issue. Contrary to the usual justifications for rejecting the tone argument, however, this is not because tone is separate from content and so focusing on tone is derailing. Rather, it is because tone is not separate from content: some kinds of argument are inherently insulting, and so insisting as Martin does that people "disagree with each other without attacking each other" is actually insisting that certain views not be expressed.

To argue this, I will first take a short detour.

II

After the 2008 election, indeed almost immediately after, one of the biggest issues of contention within liberal America became: do you generally support Barack Obama's presidency, or do you generally oppose it (from the left, of course)? The biggest online battlefield between these two camps was (and largely still is) the community blog DailyKos.

I will confess that, sometime during the healthcare reform fight in 2009, I started to lean strongly toward the "critic" camp. But the point of this detour is not that. Rather, I want to focus on one aspect of this fight: in what ways is it acceptable for Obama to be criticized? In particular, many in the "supporter" camp claimed (and still claim) that, while they have no problem with criticism of Obama's policies, they do have a problem with attacks on his character. For example, in a comment on DailyKos, SUNY Professor Ian Reifowitz said:

We should keep criticizing and pushing Obama left, but we must not demonize him, both because he is so closely identified with liberalism (and yes, he is, among the American people at large) and because of what he represents to African Americans as the first black president.

Seeing an opportunity to make a point I had wanted to make for a while (forgive the narcissistic self-citation), I replied:

[W]hat, in your view, is the difference between "criticism" and "demonization"?

Reifowitz replied that "calling him names is demonization," while "content-based criticism" is not. The problem with this, I felt, is that the line between "content-based criticism" and name-calling is not always so clear, so I responded:

For example, let's say one believes that the President's drone program constitutes a war crime. While technically being a content-based criticism, this line of attack essentially calls him a war criminal, which many would consider demonization. Similarly, if one critiques Obama's economic policies and calls them "corporatist," that's easily taken to mean one is calling Obama himself a "corporatist," which again is often taken to be demonization.

While I still think my point was sound (which Reifowitz never responded to, though I was just some nobody commenter so I can't blame him for not engaging in extended argument), I didn't state it as well as I should have. What I should have said is: calling Obama a war criminal is demonizing him; calling his economic policies corporatist (or pro-austerity, conservative, or whatever) just is calling Obama himself a corporatist (austerina, conservative), which--at least on a liberal blog--is also demonization. To put it in broader terms: any harsh criticism of Obama's policies is an insult to him, because if accusing a politician of promulgating evil through their policies is not an insult, nothing is. This means that calls to not insult Obama personally or to not demonize him, while seemingly "neutral" and targeted merely at rhetoric, are in reality calls to not make certain kinds of criticisms. Minor critiques of specific policies are probably OK; broad-based critiques of major policy initiatives are iffy; harsh criticisms are disallowed.

Now, perhaps one might justify such a dictum against too-harsh criticism of Obama, such as Reifowitz's arguments that he's the standard-bearer of liberalism, is symbolically important to black Americans, etc. But at the very least, we should be honest about what we're arguing for: not an end to certain types of rhetoric, but an end to certain kinds of criticism.

Now then, what does this detour have to do with the tone argument?

As I've said, one of the issues here is that people who discuss the tone argument tend to speak in generalities. Cross says that sometimes people are too angry, and are "being a jerk." But when, precisely, is this? Almost by definition, we can agree that it's wrong to be "too angry"--the entire debate is about what counts as being "too angry." Similarly, Martin says that we shouldn't "attack" each other, but what precisely counts as an "attack"?

I'm also speaking in generalities here, so let's get down to brass tacks. Is it wrong to call someone a sexist, or a racist?

As far as I can tell, there are three ways Cross and especially Martin can answer this question:
(a) No, it's not wrong, because "sexist" (or "racist," "homophobe," and the like) isn't an insult.
(b) Yes, it's wrong, but instead you should just say that someone "has sexist/racist views," and that's fine.
(c) Yes, it's always wrong to assert that the person you're talking to is sexist/racist/etc in any way, shape, or form.

I will discuss these possible responses in turn.

III

So the first way someone could answer my question is: "Calling someone a sexist (racist, etc) isn't an insult." To compare, Reifowitz could respond to me in a similar way, that calling Obama a war criminal is fine because that's not an insult.

This hypothetical response by Reifowitz, however, is self-evidently absurd. Calling someone a war criminal is extremely insulting. Indeed, it's safe to say that calling someone a war criminal is more insulting than calling them stupid, or ugly, or other obvious insults. Or, to put it another way, since war crimes are evil, accusing someone of being a war criminal is accusing them of being evil.

"Sexist," "racist," and the like are insults in a similar way. They're not mere labels for ideologies--at least, not anymore. Our modern culture assumes that sexism, racism, and the like are not merely wrong but evil--perhaps less evil than committing war crimes, but evil nonetheless. Thus, calling someone a racist is different in kind from calling someone, say, a "free trader" (outside of certain circles, at least). The latter is an economic policy that we (mostly) think is legitimate to defend; the former is (mostly) considered a scourge that should be wiped out, not debated calmly.

The best proof of the inherently insulting nature of these words is the reaction of those on the receiving end of them. Brad Torgersen, one of the "Sad Puppies" leaders Martin was arguing against, once said:

Words like "racist" and "misogynist" are presently code for "not part of the human equation" thus any man or woman who can be successfully labeled these things, is cut off from polite circles, perhaps even driven out of the workplace, or worse.

I didn't find a similar explicit quote from another major Sad Puppies leader, Larry Correia, but try perusing any of his posts on the topic (such as this one) and it's clear he shares the sentiment.

But really, it's not necessary to deluge you with examples. Observe any internet argument (or real-life argument for that matter) where one of the participants is called a racist or sexist. They will almost inevitably react as if they were insulted, and that's because they were insulted. Racism is frequently referred to as a "disease" or worse. If it's not insulting to call someone a racist, I'm not sure what an insult is.

To be clear: I fully agree that racism is a disease--indeed, that that analogy underplays it--and I think the fact that "racist" (and "sexist" etc) is considered an insult is a sign of great progress. But we need to face the fact that it is an insult. So the first possible response, that it's OK to call people racists because that's not an insult, is a complete non-starter.

IV

The second possible response is to argue that, while "sexist" or "racist" are insults and thus should not be used, instead you can merely say that someone "has sexist views" or similar. The motivation behind this might be something as follows: a racist is something you are, while racist views are something you hold; therefore, calling someone a "racist" is an insult (and thus wrong) while accusing someone of "holding racist views" is merely a description of their ideology. The analogy to the Obama case would be asserting that it's OK to say that Obama has "committed war crimes," you just can't call him a "war criminal."

That analogy should make the absurdity of this defense plain. If you've committed war crimes, you're a war criminal; there's no mysterious extra thing you need to gain to become one. Similarly, if you have racist views, you're a racist--there's no "extra" character trait or whatever that makes you one.

While I think this is essentially obvious, I'll back myself up by liberally quoting a fantastic 2013 post by the journalist Ta-Nehisi Coates. In this post, Coates argues against Wes Alwan, who in defending Alec Baldwin from being called a "bigot" (see this for some details) said:

In fact, the primary function of a word like "bigot" is to very precisely exclude more conflicted, doubtful states of mind, as in: a bigot is "a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her opinions and prejudices; especially: one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance" (Mirriam-Webster). . . . accusing someone of being close-minded and un-persuadable requires that they adamantly hold the beliefs in question in the first place: it cannot be the case that they're conflicted or akratic - that for example they sincerely favor gay rights as a matter of principle yet betray this principle during bouts of homophobic rage.

Coates responds (I'm giving a very long quote because it's great, but for my purposes the second and especially third paragraphs are the most important):

Very few white people in the 19th century--indeed very few slave-holders--were without conflict and without doubt when considering black people. Many of them were persuadable and akratic. (A great word, by the way.) Some manumitted the enslaved. Others taught them to read, even though it was against the law. Others bore children by them, and sometimes even loved those children. And others still argued that white people should be enslaved too. These people were conflicted, complicated and bigoted. I suspect that the same is true for many homophobic "love the sinner, hate the sin" bigots today. 

Perhaps we are now entering a new age wherein we will do violence to our language and Osama Bin Laden will no longer be a terrorist, but "a person who enjoyed a career killing innocent people." Rush Limbaugh will not be a racist, but "a man who has made a career saying racist things." Nathan Bedford Forrest will not have been a white supremacist but "someone who seemed to believe that things would be better if white people held most of the power in our society." Louis Farrakhan will not be an anti-Semite but "someone who exhibits a pattern of making comments against people who identify themselves as Jewish." 

I am doubtful that such an age is dawning. In the meantime, I hope a self-identified "self-critiquing liberal" like Alwan--and I mean this--will see that while some people reach for labels simply to conduct a mythical witch-hunt, others reach for labels because in their world witches are very real, and are not the hunted, but the hunters.

I will add one thing. What's important in the end is not the semantics of what "bigot," "racist," or "sexist" mean. What's important is the moral status of "making a career saying racist things," or more pertinently, believing racist/sexist/etc. things. As long as the latter is generally considered to be bad in itself (which I indeed believe it to be, but arguing for that here would take me too far afield), then accusing someone of holding racist views is very much an insult. So option (b), too, is a non-starter; no matter what your definition of "racist" is, it's impossible to say that someone's opinions and statements are racist without insulting them.

V

The final response--which, for reasons argued above, I believe is the only self-consistent position tone argument defenders can take--is: Yes, it's insulting to call someone a sexist/racist or a holder of sexist/racist views, and therefore you shouldn't do that. The analogy would be Reifowitz hypothetically arguing that, since it's insulting to call Obama a war criminal, you shouldn't call Obama a war criminal.

Let me clarify something. This hypothetical Reifowitz is not making the case that Obama isn't a war criminal. He is instead arguing that it's wrong even to make the case that Obama is a war criminal. Similarly, the tone argument defender here is not merely saying it's wrong to falsely accuse people of being sexists, which is so obvious as to be almost banal. Rather, they're saying that, even if you honestly believe someone is being sexist or racist, it is wrong to say so. Presumably, one should just make much more mild criticisms (perhaps "I disagree with your contention that whites are genetically more intelligent than blacks").

Now, Cross, Martin, and other tone argument defenders clearly believe their stance is "neutral," in that they'd likely insist they're not forbidding people from stating their opinions--they're merely requiring that those opinions not be insulting (as Martin says, "we can disagree with each other without attacking each other"). The problem is that some opinions are by their nature insulting; sometimes, it's impossible for us to say what we truly think about an argument without attacking the person who made it. As children, some of us (especially women) were taught "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." This admonition at least has the virtue of being honest in its intention to censor. At the very least, defenders of the tone argument should be similarly honest.

Well, that last bit was pretty insulting, so I guess I just violated the tone argument myself. Let me back up a bit, then, and give a less rhetorical argument against this third option--that is, I will defend calling people racist or sexist if one honestly believes them to be.

First of all, note that "racist" and "sexist" aren't the only words that, while theoretically referring to ideologies, are in reality insults. "Fascist" is similar in that these days it tends to mean "person who holds a political position I disagree with"--and it would clearly be disingenuous to call someone a fascist and then deny that you meant to insult them. Republicans insult Obama by calling him a "socialist" all the time, and "liberal" and "conservative" are certainly insults within certain circles. As implied above, "pro-censorship" is very insulting for many, and beyond politics, being a "creationist" is almost as bad as being a "racist" in much of the internet.

One way to understand what's going on here is the "Overton Window." The basic idea is that, in public discourse, we can consider each idea as having a certain degree of mass acceptability, ranging from "unthinkable" and "radical" to "popular" and "policy." All of these ideological terms that are also insults refer to beliefs that, either in the culture at large or in particular subcultures, fall in the "unthinkable" camp. In this regard, Torgersen is only somewhat exaggerating when he says calling someone a "racist" takes them out of the human condition. What you're really doing is accusing them of holding an unthinkable view, a view so out-there that only a bad person could possibly hold it. The goal, of course, is to use peer pressure in order to encourage them to abandon that view.

And you know what? It works. While racism and sexism are still massive problems in our society, it's much less common for people to be explicitly, unambiguously racist or sexist than it was 40 or 50 years ago. This is progress, of a sort. And it was accomplished precisely because it's no longer considered acceptable to (openly) hold these views, and people who express them in public are shamed for doing so. If this public shaming does not take place, if people who say racist or sexist things are met with a mere "I politely disagree with you," the Overton Window will shift and bigotry will move from being "unthinkable" to "radical" or even "acceptable." Indeed, we can see this process occurring in real time with Donald Trump's presidential campaign.

Your average internet commenter is far less influential than Donald Trump, of course. Nevertheless, if people are not consistently called out and shamed for saying racist or sexist things, racism and sexism will become more acceptable to express. (Spend enough time looking at the chat of your average popular twitch stream if you want proof.) To put it bluntly: insults are one of the ways cultural standards are enforced, they are extremely effective at doing so, and it is morally justifiable to use them if those cultural standards are themselves good and essential. To oppose their use is not to be neutral, but to favor the views that the insults are targeting (because your position will move them toward the "acceptable" category). Sometimes, this is the right course of action; "atheist" used to be an insult par excellence, after all. But sometimes it isn't. Since anti-bigotry is an extremely important cultural standard, is is morally acceptable to insult people by calling them bigots.

VI

So am I advocating a free-for-all against suspected bigots? Is it OK to not merely call them bigots, but also to threaten violence, tell them to kill themselves, etc.? No, of course not. But the wrongness of that kind of rhetoric is not that it's insulting, but that it's unnecessarily insulting.

I will explain. The problem with the tone argument is that it blocks people from expressing certain views that are inherently insulting, under the guise of merely targeting rhetoric. But sometimes, insulting rhetoric is not used to express a view, but is merely substance-less rage.

Nothing is gained by telling someone to kill themselves or threatening violence against them. (Contrast this with something like "Fuck off," which makes clear that the bigot is not welcome in the community in a way nothing else can and is therefore an acceptable insult.) It is publicly shaming them, yes, but unnecessarily so; merely calling them a bigot is sufficient for that purpose. All they do is, maybe, allow the insulter to let off some steam while likely negatively impacting the mental state of the one being insulted. That is why it shouldn't be done.

The key point here is that the line between "you're a racist" and "kill yourself" is not that the latter is more insulting; calling someone "stupid," after all, is probably less insulting than "racist" but is still unnecessary. The line is: does your insult actually express a substantive opinion, or is it merely letting off steam? "Your'e a racist" expresses an opinion that cannot be stated in any other way. "You're stupid" is just pointless grandstanding.

Another important note here is that these substance-less insults are not different in kind from any other sort of shallow argument. If, while engaging in debate, I ignore my opponent's point to attack their spelling/grammar, or their username, or I bring up something entirely unrelated, I am similarly doing something wrong. Insubstantial insults are worse to the extent that they tend to hurt peoples' feelings (I mean this non-ironically for the record), but their insulting quality merely exacerbates their wrongness; the wrongness itself comes from their lack of substance.

To summarize: the tone argument is a bad argument because expressing certain opinions is inherently insulting. Insults are not necessarily bad, and are only bad if they do not express a substantive view.

The Tone Argument Preview: John Stuart Mill

I'm starting to realize posting twice a week was a bit ambitious, so I think I'm going to focus on posting once a week on Sundays. Instead, on Thursdays I'll offer brief "previews" for what I'll be writing about that week.

This week, I'm going to write about the tone argument. From reading articles on the internet about it, one might get the impression that criticism of the "tone argument," critique of the idea that we should always be civil, is something new, perhaps cooked up by those "SJWs" a bunch of people seem to be upset about these days. I believed this too (well, not the SJW part), which is why I was quite surprised when I re-read the British philosopher John Stuart Mill's famous defense of individual freedom of speech and action, On Liberty, and found he spoke on precisely this topic. Considering On Liberty was written in 1859, and is usually considered one of the chief achievements of liberal political theory, I think what Mill has to say on this matter is very much of interest. It can serve as a "teaser" for my own discussion of the issue in a few days. (Note: I've introduced paragraph breaks into the original text for reason of readability.)

Before quitting the subject of freedom of opinion, it is fit to take some notice of those who say, that the free expression of all opinions should be permitted, on condition that the manner be temperate, and do not pass the bounds of fair discussion. Much might be said on the impossibility of fixing where these supposed bounds are to be placed; for if the test be offence to those whose opinion is attacked, I think experience testifies that this offence is given whenever the attack is telling and powerful, and that every opponent who pushes them hard, and whom they find it difficult to answer, appears to them, if he shows any strong feeling on the subject, an intemperate opponent.

But this, though an important consideration in a practical point of view, merges in a more fundamental objection. Undoubtedly the manner of asserting an opinion, even though it be a true one, may be very objectionable, and may justly incur severe censure. But the principal offences of the kind are such as it is mostly impossible, unless by accidental self-betrayal, to bring home to conviction. The gravest of them is, to argue sophistically, to suppress facts or arguments, to misstate the elements of the case, or misrepresent the opposite opinion. But all this, even to the most aggravated degree, is so continually done in perfect good faith, by persons who are not considered, and in many other respects may not deserve to be considered, ignorant or incompetent, that it is rarely possible on adequate grounds conscientiously to stamp the misrepresentation as morally culpable; and still less could law presume to interfere with this kind of controversial misconduct.

With regard to what is commonly meant by intemperate discussion, namely invective, sarcasm, personality, and the like, the denunciation of these weapons would deserve more sympathy if it were ever proposed to interdict them equally to both sides; but it is only desired to restrain the employment of them against the prevailing opinion: against the unprevailing they may not only be used without general disapproval, but will be likely to obtain for him who uses them the praise of honest zeal and righteous indignation. Yet whatever mischief arises from their use, is greatest when they are employed against the comparatively defenceless; and whatever unfair advantage can be derived by any opinion from this mode of asserting it, accrues almost exclusively to received opinions.

The worst offence of this kind which can be committed by a polemic, is to stigmatise those who hold the contrary opinion as bad and immoral men. To calumny of this sort, those who hold any unpopular opinion are peculiarly exposed, because they are in general few and uninfluential, and nobody but themselves feels much interested in seeing justice done them; but this weapon is, from the nature of the case, denied to those who attack a prevailing opinion: they can neither use it with safety to themselves, nor, if they could, would it do anything but recoil on their own cause. In general, opinions contrary to those commonly received can only obtain a hearing by studied moderation of language, and the most cautious avoidance of unnecessary offence, from which they hardly ever deviate even in a slight degree without losing ground: while unmeasured vituperation employed on the side of the prevailing opinion, really does deter people from professing contrary opinions, and from listening to those who profess them. For the interest, therefore, of truth and justice, it is far more important to restrain this employment of vituperative language than the other; and, for example, if it were necessary to choose, there would be much more need to discourage offensive attacks on infidelity, than on religion.

It is, however, obvious that law and authority have no business with restraining either, while opinion ought, in every instance, to determine its verdict by the circumstances of the individual case; condemning every one, on whichever side of the argument he places himself, in whose mode of advocacy either want of candour, or malignity, bigotry, or intolerance of feeling manifest themselves; but not inferring these vices from the side which a person takes, though it be the contrary side of the question to our own: and giving merited honour to every one, whatever opinion he may hold, who has calmness to see and honesty to state what his opponents and their opinions really are, exaggerating nothing to their discredit, keeping nothing back which tells, or can be supposed to tell, in their favour. This si the real morality of public discussion: and if often violated, I am happy to think that there are many controversialists who to a great extent observe it, and a still greater number who conscientiously strive towards it.

(These are from pages 54-55 of On Liberty and other writings, edited by Stefan Collini, first published in 1989. For people with access to other editions, it's the last paragraph in Chapter 2.)

To end with, I will provide another quote from On Liberty, which may in its own way provide an even better view into Mill's views on the proper use of "invective, sarcasm, personality, and the like" (page 33, same edition):

What is boasted of at the present time as the revival of religion, is always, in narrow and uncultivated minds, at least as much the revival of bigotry; and where there is the strong permanent leaven of intolerance in the feelings of a people, which at all times abides in the middle classes of this country, it needs but little to provoke them into actively persecuting those whom they have never ceased to think proper objects of persecution.

Mill places a footnote at the end of this sentence. The footnote reads (page 33, same edition):

Ample warning may be drawn from the large infusion of the passions of a persecutor, which mingled with the general display of the worst parts of our national character on the occasion of the Sepoy insurrection. The ravings of fanatics or charlatans from the pulpit may be unworthy of notice; but the heads of the Evangelical party have announced as their principle for the government of Hindoos and Mahomedans, that no schools be supported by public money in which the Bible is not taught, and by necessary consequence that no public employment be given to any but real or pretended Christians. An Under-Secretary of State [William N. Massey], in a speech delivered to his constituents on the 12th of November, 1857, is reported to have said: 'Toleration of their faith' (the faith of a hundred millions of British subjects), 'the superstition which they called religion, by the British Government, had had the effect of retarding the ascendancy of the British name, and preventing the salutary growth of Christianity. . . . Toleration was the great corner-stone of the religious liberties of this country; but do not let them abuse that precious word toleration. As he understood it, it meant the complete liberty to all, freedom of worship, among Christians, who worshipped upon the same foundation. It meant toleration of all sects and denominations of Christians who believed in the one mediation.' I desire to call attention to the fact, that a man who has been deemed fit to fill a high office in the government of this country, under a liberal Ministry, maintains the doctrine that all who do not believe in the divinity of Christ are beyond the pale of toleration. Who, after this imbecile display, can indulge the illusion that religious persecution has passed away, never to return?

GamerGate: Invasions of Gamer Culture

A few days ago I read this post by Alisha Karabinus about GamerGate. I highly recommend reading the entire post, but I was inspired by this part in particular:

I am sitting at my computer with too many tabs open. In one, a friend is telling me a story of a man he knew who lost his way, his only solace, when gaming conventions went too mainstream, when the only haven he knew turned into a reflection of the rest of his life: a place where a “freak” like him was no longer accepted, but instead subjected to the stares and whispers of “mean girls.” He talked about fake geek girls, my friend tells me, and for the first time, I understand, a little, where these accusations come from. I’m able to see the source of bitterness and anger.

My friend tells me he thinks this man is dead; he hasn’t heard from him in a long time, and at first I want to say, but you don’t know. I can’t say it, though. I can’t, because what did this man, the one my friend describes, have left? What would you do, if you felt there was no place for you at all? To what extremes would you be pushed? I suddenly overwhelmed with such a sense of horror and sadness that I have to look away.

Now, let me state from the outset: I am not a member of GamerGate; I think it's essentially a right-wing cultural backlash against the feminism, anti-racism, etc. which is increasingly gaining power and influence in "gamer" culture. I'm not going to defend this position here--probably I will in a later post. (If you have no idea what GamerGate is...well, consider yourself lucky, but if you'd like to take the plunge, this article I think provides a good introduction to the topic.) In this post, I'd like to use Karabinus's post as a jumping-off point to criticize a certain argument often made by anti-Gamergaters.

In an overall very good video (which I also highly recommend you watch), Dan Olson says (starting at 11:40; my own transcription):

The perception, the base assumption, is that these women [Zoe Quinn, Anita Sarkeesian, and Brianna Wu], none of whom are technically journalists, represent the invasion into the cultural space, an invasion of gender, race, sexuality and class issues, politics and awareness. They couch this idea in conspiratorial tones, assembling lists of supposed collaborators and drawing out complex webs of accusations implying that these minorities are all outsiders looking to hijack games as a platform for political ends.

This is, of course, all utter nonsense. Women, queer folk, trans folk, racial, ethnic, religious, and political minorities have been playing games all along. They have been here all along. They did not, as 4chan summarized with this image, suddenly start playing games in 2007. Also, as we've already discussed, games are and were already political in nature, because all culture is unavoidably political. What they see as an invasion is little more than the players who have been present all along finding a voice in the market to discuss politics that were already there.

What Olson says in the first paragraph (well, in the part I chose to isolate in its own paragraph while transcribing) is, I think, accurate. The second paragraph, however, isn't--or rather, it's based on a misunderstanding of what precisely GamerGaters think is being invaded. Olson seems to be implying that the "cultural space" being invaded is simply that of video games in general, or the playing of video games itself. In that sense, then of course non-"white cis- and heterosexual men" have been playing games all along so they're not invading anything. But this, from what I can tell, is not what most GamerGaters are upset about.

(Disclaimer before I move on to my main argument: I'm going to make generalizations about GamerGaters in the remainder of this post. They are based chiefly on my own impressions and knowledge about the usual GamerGate hangouts--4chan etc. They're certainly not based on any scientific data, since, well, there isn't any. So this may very well be inaccurate, and if anyone has a better explanation I'd love to hear it, no sarcasm.)

To understand the motivations of GamerGate, the precise cultural space that's being invaded, we must understand the average GamerGater. The movement was born on 4chan's /v/ board (before the website banned discussion of it so it moved to 8chan), and so that makes a natural starting point for analysis. I've been casually reading 4chan for a while now, and after enough time the website culture, and the likely personality of its average user, becomes fairly clear.

The best way to proceed, I think, is to tell a story of a "fictional GamerGater." I'm not claiming every detail of this story is accurate for all or even most GamerGaters. My intention is merely to give a sort of idea for what motivations I take to be in play here. My hope is that anyone familiar with this issue, or with gaming culture in general, will find this story largely familiar.

Imagine a young, white, cis- and heterosexual man. For various reasons, he has always been sort of an outcast--perhaps he lacks social skills or has social anxiety, maybe he comes from a bad household. For whatever reason, though, he spent much of his childhood without a significant peer group to accept him, to make him feel welcome and wanted--until, that is, he discovered "gamer culture." Not video games themselves, mind you, but the largely internet-based culture surrounding them.

To be sure, he most likely discovered this culture because he enjoyed playing video games and wanted to discuss it with others who shared the same hobby. But eventually, the importance of this culture grew far beyond just that. Perhaps for the first time, he discovered a group of people whom he connected with--who liked him, made him feel valued, gave him a place where he felt at home. As such, when he identifies as a "gamer," he doesn't just mean "someone who plays games." He means something more like this.

Seriously, read that entire comic closely. That comic (and I don't mean to pick on VG Cats, it's just a good example) is from 2009, but the attitude behind it has only gotten stronger since. If you think of "gamer" as just meaning "plays games," if you think the comic is expressing pride merely in how they "memorize the ultra combos" and "wrote down pages of passwords," the comic is obviously ridiculous. On the other hand, if you think of "gamer" as meaning "belongs to gamer culture," if you think that it's expressing pride in belonging to that culture, in going through its rites of passage, then it starts to make a lot more sense.

"Gamer" is an identity not because people identify a whole lot with their entertainment products. I mean, they do, but people also identify a lot with books, and "reader" isn't an identity; at least, not nearly to the same extent "gamer" is. "Gamer" is an identity because people identify with the culture that grew up around that entertainment product, a culture that gave them acceptance, belonging, and a place to call home.

Now, enter Zoe Quinn, Anita Sarkeesian, and Brianna Wu. They have been singled out for the most intense harassment not just because they're prominent women in gaming; they're not the only prominent women in gaming, after all. They've been singled out because they're among the most prominent women in gaming who criticize gamer culture. Let me explain what I mean, mainly focusing on Sarkeesian since I think she's the best example of this.

Sarkeesian makes videos discussing sexism in video games. Let me say that, as feminist criticism of media goes, her videos are very anodyne--that is, they're actually extremely light-handed, mostly sticking to the clearest cases of sexism and bigotry in games and being very polite and calm the entire time. So for a while, I didn't understand just why she gets all the hate she gets (and she's gotten a lot of hate for a long time). Now, though, I think I do, and it's largely thanks to this blog comment:

One of the things [Sarkeesian] says, is that you can criticize things, you can understand why they’re problematic and harmful and still enjoy them.

And just speaking for myself, although quite frankly this issue probably is a strict parallel in terms of personality type. No, just no.

If I thought games encouraged sexual/domestic violence or the oppression of women over and above baseline levels in society at large, I wouldn’t play them. I couldn’t play them. They would squick me the hell out. I’d feel guilt for enjoying that sort of thing. Games that are borderline in that, I don’t play (luckily I don’t believe there’s that many of them).

In other words, it's not that Sarkeesian is particularly extreme. It's that she criticizes the sexism in games at all (or at least claims that they're more sexist than "baseline levels in society at large"--though I'm not sure where this comes from since, in my experience, Sarkeesian never says games are more sexist than society at large). Because if games are sexist, that makes me a sexist for enjoying them. And sexism is bad, so if that was true I'd be a bad person.

By itself, this logic might appear strange. But let's broaden the scope of discussion. While Sarkeesian is only directly criticizing the games themselves, gamer culture is built around these games--that's why it's "gamer" culture, after all. One of the core assumptions of gamer culture is that while individual games may be bad, video games in general are good; they are things worth playing, discussing, being passionate about, etc. So when Sarkeesian criticizes video games for being sexist, I hear fairly soft-handed media critique. But gamers, or at least our hypothetical GamerGater, hears:

"That subculture you belong to, the one that gives you a sense of belonging, acceptance, and meaning? It is fundamentally wrong. It is sexist and hateful and oppresses women, and you oppress women by belonging to it. It needs to be changed from the ground up in order to become morally acceptable, and I'm going to do just that. Either join me or get out of the way."

And, contra Olson, that is very much an invasion into the cultural space of our hypothetical GamerGater.

Karabinus says:

I don’t want to destroy games. I want more games, better games.

But for our hypothetical GamerGater, it's not about the games. It's about the culture. And Karabinus, along with every other anti-GamerGater and "SJW" that GamerGaters hate, are trying to destroy--or at least fundamentally change--gamer culture.

Again, let me make this clear: I do not support GamerGate. Indeed, I think gamer culture is fundamentally sexist (and racist, homophobic, etc) and needs to be changed from the ground up to be morally acceptable. (The same, of course, is true for the wider culture.) But if this is going to happen, the opponents of GamerGate must understand the true nature of the battle being fought, and the true nature of the people on the other side of it.

At the end of her post, Karabinus says:

I want to remember that I am a gamer, too, and passionate about what I like and what I don’t. I want to talk about games with everyone and anyone, all the time, and all the ways we can make games even better, and how we can bring in those people who reject the label. I want to build a community again, but every piece I have is broken, and I don’t know how they can be fit together again, or even if they can. I don’t even know where to begin.

To be frank, I don't think there ever was, or is ever going to be, a single unitary gaming community. People have fundamentally opposed views as to what gaming culture should be. Or, to put it another way: it's not that the pieces broke; they were broken to begin with.

But this is nothing new. As Immanuel Kant wrote, "Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made."