Cancellation Problems – Part 1

Psycho-babble and apologies

I

Emotional incontinence is a definite no-no for those of us on the right of the political divide. It almost goes without saying that we would want to appear strong in the face of adversity. But there is an altogether more pressing need when it comes to keeping our feelings to ourselves: the avoidance of embarrassment.

Personal outpouring can be an unseemly business. I should know, I’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of it in my time. I’ve played confessor to any number of people from all walks of life. I’ve heard sobs of despair and cries of rage; I’ve marvelled at crystal clear insight one minute, blind stupidity the next. It’s all out of kilter. Which is why it tends to make us wary.

We have come to distrust the word empathy – and with good reason. Show me a loon who self-identifies as an ‘empath’ and I’ll show you a pair of heels. Pronto! The trouble with our modern brand of compassion is that it is hyper-selective. While empaths can shed no end of tears for proxy versions of themselves, they almost always display a staggering lack of understanding when it comes to everybody else. Remove the mirror and the love will turn to spite. Bags and bags of the bloody stuff.      

That said, I am here to tell you that the function of the listener is an important one. Just as the act of telling is vital to health and happiness. Successful exchanges of a therapeutic kind (I’m talking about private conversations here) are becoming something of a rarity, though. This is because many of them are bound up in a ‘counsel culture’ vocabulary which, contrary to its intention, undermines the whole enterprise. I don’t know about you, but I immediately switch off when well-intentioned people start banging on about wellbeing.    

I’m lucky in that my close friends are immune to psycho-babble and Newspeak (it goes with territory of what we say and do, I suppose), but I’m well aware that many others are less fortunate. The therapy stuff is just everywhere. Have you noticed? Otherwise normal people spout ‘mindfulness’ and ‘resillience’ without the slightest hint of irony. An artificial layer of jargon has crept into our conversations, stopping the free flow of natural communication.

It serves to alienate us from the people we need most.   

II

But there’s more to it than that. Therapy culture actively drives cancellation. Take ‘kindness’, for instance. We are being killed by a brand of it that has no relation to the real thing.  The new version is codified, partial and dependent; and it carries with it a clear implication of threat. This new kindness is synonymous with the most divisive movements of our times – namely BLM and the TQI+ addition to Pride. You throw into the pot Free Palestine and Extinction Rebellion and you’ve got the whole boiling.

The personal has long been political, of course. Which means the political is personal. With the boundary between the domestic and public spheres now non-existent, it is easy to shine a light on the private lives of cancellation victims. The glare of ideology obliterates sense, decency and proportion. People on the receiving end of this madness need to be able to talk about it. And they need to be able to express themselves in terms that bear no resemblance to cry-bully bleating.

It’s easy enough to do, incidentally. You just remember how you spoke before you were forcibly exposed to the wellbeing bollocks. When food was vegetarian, not plant-based. When pop stars were piss-taking Noel Gallaghers rather than ‘inclusive’ Sam Smiths. When we weren’t terrified of everything. When nobody gave a toss about race.

It was all rather good, wasn’t it?   

III

Douglas Murray has spoken eloquently about the need for forgiveness, so I won’t cover the same ground here. But I will talk about the other element in the same equation – apology. Other than in basic day-to-day situations (you stand on someone’s foot, you say sorry), the act of expressing sorrow has no place in our society. Why? Because it is rarely, if ever, received in good faith. And the things for which the Kind People demand apology are nothing more than ideological lies. The obvious example is ‘misgendering’ – but you will probably think of fifteen others by the time you get to the end of this sentence.  Never apologise for telling the truth. The moment you repent for something you haven’t done is the moment you declare yourself beaten and humiliated.   

So we need those proper conversations, now more than ever. I won’t apologise to gloaters wishing for my destruction – but I still need to admit when I’m wrong. I must to say it and it must to be heard. The price we pay if we cannot communicate genuine contrition, vulnerability, growth and acceptance, is not worth contemplating.