Justice Canceled, Justice Granted.

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The first time I heard of cancel culture was when I was eavesdropping on my brother. See, he was leading a Bible study group from church, and the topic that night was contemporary issues of the early 2020s in relation to Christian teaching. I wasn’t really interested in what was going on until I overheard things like, "God is the supreme judge" and "Love your neighbor." Then they would proceed to coin terms like "Solomonic wisdom" and "apologetics sickening." From this discussion, I learned that when society forces people with some form of religious authority to take a stand involving a wrong in society, wisdom and apologetics guide that absolute standards may apply to bring those in offense to the book.

In my law classes, this is one of the objectives of justice. Making sure people who break the law pay by applying certain principles and standards. Retribution in society brings order, and parties involved are said to be satisfied when it is carried out effectively. While justice reigns, there are some low forms of "making them pay" in society. One of them is cancel culture.

Simply put, cancel culture works like this: you refuse to call me by my preferred pronoun, so anyone by the sane standards of gender classification refuses to associate with you; you are recorded on national TV uttering vulgarities; all lean men and women refuse to talk to you. They cancel you.

The concept of canceling is engraved in the objective of reducing structured inequality where real justice cannot be applied. No one is going to take you to court and demand damages for not calling them "they." So instead, they boycott you, avoid you like the plague, shun you, call you out, and just... pretend that you don’t exist, and if you do, you are some kind of devil until such a time you are uncomfortable enough to undo what you did.

So when does canceling become a culture? Normally, people in society who are said to have a marginal voice are the ones who cancel. And when they continuously exercise this acquired right, usually over a span of years, on the ills of the devils amongst them, it becomes a trend or a way that holds people accountable and inspires enough fear for deterrence.

This form of lowlife justice really works. It does. Ask me why some Congolese musician, sometime back, wasn’t allowed in the country for claims of assault he committed in his country. Ask me why some foreign dignitaries recently refused to speak with a certain CS over his choice of language. Ask me why a few years ago people avoided using a named online cab booking firm for acts of a driver. The reasoning behind canceling is to uphold the generally accepted social conventions required of individuals and organizations.

While all that is remarkably effective, there is a conflict that arises. This conflict is between cancel culture and real justice.

Simply put, you have done something wrong, and we need to make you pay. But first, we have to prove that you actually did it. So, how do we do it? We can get unedited, uncensored information about what you did and how you did it. Then we can see whether it’s really wrong or not. Then perhaps we can ask for your explanation as to why you did it. Then, with the societal authority vested in us, we can finally cancel you.

Or we can take you to a court of law.

What? The wrong you did... sorry, the wrong you allegedly did isn’t worth taking to court? Alright. Then let’s not rush. Let’s not dive into ostracizing you (excluding you from society and revoking your privileges). Let us follow the steps I highlighted above. There’s no rush, right?

And that is the problem there. Rushing. Rushing into canceling people who have allegedly done something inexplicably wrong without much procedural proof defies all the basic principles of justice.

Internationally, we have seen the devastating effects of cancel culture. There’s the major example of Johnny Depp, another of Britney Spears, and one from Jonathan Majors. Locally, it’s freaking worse. Ours is public shaming, even. Women and men on Twitter and Instagram gossip blogs are having their societal privileges stripped, their image flayed, and all people avoiding them. Losing jobs, status, and friendships on claims that may or may not be true isn’t worth giving people a voice.

Someone told me that the worst feeling one can get is the feeling of rejection. And while rejection (or subtly exclusion) can make someone contemplate the wrong they did and right it, unwarranted rejection can also make someone contemplate other unhealthy solutions. It isn’t really worth it to cancel someone's wrongdoing and call it justice. It isn’t.

By Mokaya Matambo