Where Do All The Canceled People Go?

We’ve all seen people get canceled — many of us in real time. A company, or a leader in a company, messes up. A loud voice emerges on social media to call out the bad behavior, the misstep, or the slip-up. The post, tweet, or reel starts off like a slow moving train, gathering speed.

And then the reactions roll in and the train takes off. Some people stop scrolling long enough to hit the ‘dislike’ or ‘angry’ button. Some have a full, visceral reaction in the comments section. The troops rally. Insults fly. Who was responsible for this? Who is to blame? Who is going to be held accountable? Why does this keep happening?!

For out-of-work actors during the height of the pandemic, there was little more to do than watch (mostly) well-meaning theater companies and professionals go down in metaphorical flames on social media over equity, diversity & inclusion missteps and blunders. We watched as the companies’ social media channels went dark following outcries. We watched programming freeze. And then we scrolled on to the next catastrophe blowing up our feeds.

But while other stories continued to shift attention, the canceled people were still there. These people, who still exist beyond the screen, don’t disappear into the ether.

So what happens to them? I know the probable answer because I’ve consulted directly with them in the aftermath. And I know that what happens in the time directly after the incident makes all the difference in what happens next.

Important Caveat: ‘Canceling’ vs. Calls for Justice

I want to be very clear before I jump into this hot button topic. I am a proponent of grace and empathy for well-intentioned people, but grace has limits. When I speak about people being canceled, I am not at ALL referencing people who commit offenses like harassment (sexual or otherwise), assault, abuse or rape; hate crimes, brutality, violence or murder. I am not talking about the people who have a flagrant disregard for the humanity of other people. Those people should answer to victims, families and the law. That’s not being canceled. That’s called justice.

I’m talking about the well-meaning people who mess up (and I’m talking specifically about people in the arts because that’s my world). The people who, in a strange twist, share one big fear — the fear of being canceled. These people think they’re doing the best they can with the few resources they have, but they don’t get everything right because they don’t know how or where to start. Critics tell them to ‘do better’, but they have no idea what that means. They are just trying desperately not to mess up so they don’t get called out or publicly shamed — and because they are often acting from this place of fear, not a place of values or conviction, they inevitably ‘get it wrong’.

I want to explore what happens to those people after social media critics aim to burn the offending people to the ground. Canceled people don’t go to court or to prison. And even though some have tried to disappear them, they don’t get wiped from existence.

What Happens to the Canceled People?

They (Might) Apologize

Apologies in response to being called out, if they come, are reactionary. They come because people on social media are demanding action, and an apology is the quickest, most public “solution.” But there likely hasn’t been the opportunity for learning or self-reflection yet.

Here’s the problem — I can assure you that the offense wasn’t a one-off thing. Chances are it came from deep within a system that needs to be re-examined and updated. So the apology for the offense won’t even scratch the surface, and the attempt will most likely fall short. The canceled person has only learned that they were right to be afraid.

They Lay Low

These people may seem to vanish into thin air following social media firestorms. But even though updates stop appearing, they do go on existing. They’re most likely in the midst of a shame spiral. If they believe they deserve the ridicule, they may self-flagellate. And if they already struggle with mental health issues, or are dealing with trauma of their own, those issues will surely be exacerbated.

If they feel they don’t at all deserve the ridicule, they seethe in humiliation. They become disconnected from their good intentions because they “failed anyway.” And they can become very dangerous, resentful people.

They Become A Cautionary Tale

While some social media takedowns are fleeting, some last in our memories. But either way, the message that similar companies receive is this: don’t say anything to upset the crowd. Don’t publicly disagree with the ridicule that is happening and don’t ask questions when you don’t understand why it’s happening. Even if you have to pretend to ‘get it’ — just don’t say the quiet part out loud or you’ll suffer the same fate.

They Seek Solace

In their shame, humiliation or anger, these hurt people will seek out other ‘canceled’ people to commiserate with. They will form bonds over what happened to them, because that’s what we do as people. We try to find people with whom we can relate.

With some, the commiserating is mild: This isn’t fair. We were just doing the best we could.

With others, it’s more than that: Can you believe the overreaction? The ‘woke police’ are at it again. I don’t know why I even try?

They Come Back or Emerge Somewhere Else

In this day and age of social media, and in the realm of artists who move from show to show to show, our memories are short. So for better or worse, when canceled people (with the exception of celebrities) disappear for a while, they can usually reemerge without issue (often in a new town or group). And if, for whatever reason, they haven’t taken the chance to repair the damage or grow and heal as people, they will be more dangerous when they do return.

Why are they more dangerous, you may ask? Well, these people who feared ‘being canceled’, were proved right. In their minds, they tried or did the best they could, and it didn’t matter. So they will most likely continue to cause harm as a leader because they’ve changed nothing. And now they know how to be more careful — not with EDI work, but in not raising too many visible red flags.

There’s a Better Way

There’s an obvious (I hope) problem with the ‘canceling’ method overall. It’s not actually a method. A method implies that there’s a plan toward doing or fixing something. There is no roadmap for coming back from being canceled.

Most people who face the social media firing squad don’t know what to do in the aftermath. They scramble for shallow short term solutions to show, quickly, that they’ve changed or that they’re sorry. Or they dissolve into a dangerous shame spiral. Neither path makes them safer or more evolved.

So, where do we want the canceled people to go? Here’s what I propose:

• Instead of rushing to create an apology and statement in the short term, I want them to commit to meaningful work in the long term.

• While they lay low, I want them to start on that path of learning and growth that connects with their core values and purpose. I often see critics telling people to “do their own research.” But do we really want Google teaching folks about equity, diversity & inclusion?

• When people tell horror stories about them, I want other companies to take note of how they began an authentic journey toward accountability.

• While they seek solace and support, I want them to care for themselves while also taking responsibility for the impact of their words or actions, regardless of their intention.

• When they come back, I want them to be better, safer people who can receive feedback without crumbling or scoffing. In short, I want them to care, not shut down. I want them to learn, speak and act from an empowered, value-driven place (the only place from where any of us can make authentic change) — to be brave in the knowledge that they won’t always get it right, but also knowing they’ll never get it right if they’re afraid to try.

Identifying an End Goal

The research is very clear — shame is not a good teacher. So what is the ultimate goal of publicly shaming a person or a company? If the goal is to release rage and frustration, mission accomplished. If the goal is to teach the person or company a lesson, then public shaming is actually working contrary to the goal.

I do not think shame is a social justice tool. […] So if you want me to […] – “Hey this person did something really shitty, really bad, and let’s shame the shit out of them.” Don’t include me. You want to hold that person accountable? In a real way? I’m on board. But, just FYI, that takes 10 times the amount of time and work that shame does. You won’t get the rush of feeling good by berating someone right away. And it’s a long process. But I will not participate in using shame as a social justice tool. It’s the justice tool of oppression. I just won’t do it.

Brene Brown

So what leads people to shame others online? Often, extremely valid catalysts. Disenchantment, exhaustion, burnout, hopelessness, hurt, and/or trauma — in short, anger — and that’s the part that pulls them to their phone or computer to blast a company over their all white production of Little Shop of Horrors. But anger itself is not productive. More wise words from Brene:

Anger is a catalyst. Holding on to it will make us exhausted and sick. Internalizing anger will take away our joy and spirit; externalizing anger will make us less effective in our attempts to create change and forge connection. It’s an emotion that we need to transform into something life-giving; courage, love, change, compassion, justice.

I’ve been angry too. I so clearly remember the red hot pain boiling in my heart that matched the sea of red on the election results map in 2020. I remember feeling viscerally ill for weeks following the election, ruminating about all of the people in the world who didn’t think racism was a dealbreaker. And that anger was only exacerbated in my personal life in the arts, especially when I reflected on movements like We See You White American Theater and connected my own experiences of feeling used, wronged, not considered and undervalued as a Black artist.

But I realized I had to transform my anger if I wanted to be a catalyst for change. I was eventually able to clear my mind and calm my heart. I harnessed my personal value of emotional connection as a way past people’s outward beliefs and into their humanity — I transformed my anger into empathy. That doesn’t have to be everyone’s path, but it was, and is, mine.

What Do We Really Want from Canceled People?

My feeling is that the most common answer to this question is ‘accountability’. As an EDI consultant, I have had to address the question of ‘what does it mean to be held accountable?’ time and time again. In my experience, the answer has never once been the same. And accountability isn’t a one-and-done kind of a thing.

I’ll let you in on a secret: Every arts organization is one tweet away from getting canceled. (That’s scary, right?) I’ve seen some of the offenses that get people canceled, and I’ve also seen much worse. Just because people or companies aren’t getting called out doesn’t mean they’re doing any better.

The only difference? No one took to Twitter or TikTok to burn those companies down. They still need to be held accountable for the harm they are causing on the inside, but they’ll do everything they can to look good from the outside to avoid getting canceled.

See the dilemma? Getting canceled, and the fear of getting canceled, lead to worse outcomes for marginalized communities trying to make organizations more equitable on the inside.

My point is that, canceled or not — there is no organization, no person, who is getting everything right. And personally, I want to see a real effort toward change from the inside of organizations from people who care, not performative action on the outside to avoid being canceled.

Bottom Line

I am not asking critics and advocates to stop demanding change. Without demand for action, there’s often not the motivation on the other side that’s needed in order to make real change. And I don’t want to diminish justified anger. What I am saying is that critics should consider the mounting evidence that social media shaming only widens the gap when it comes to social justice and accountability. I think it’s time to reconsider how we make our voices heard.

I’m also not telling people who mess up not to apologize. But without real understanding of where the apology is coming from, an understanding of how their actions or words harm others, or how to invest in real change afterward, their fear-driven response will be superficial.

On either side of the ‘canceling’ conversation — if we want change to happen, we need to act from a place of connection, not fear. To enact meaningful change, we need to have meaningful conversations, and those just can’t happen on social media when people are at odds.

We haven’t solved any of the isms or phobias yet. There’s a long way to go in the fight against systemic racism, anti-semitism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, fat-phobia, ageism, etc. etc. We need more people aboard the train to change. So we can’t afford to leave canceled people behind. We need to bring them with us. We need to see past the anger — to transform it into something productive and actionable — so that we can navigate a way forward toward our ultimate goals. So if you’re with me, and you want to see real change, let’s take a deep breath and take our work beyond the screen.