Carla DiBello Talks ‘Cancel Culture’ and Why a Little Compassion Goes a Long Way
Entrepreneur and celebrity style insider, Carla DiBello, explores the changing complexities of one of our generation’s most fraught phenomenons – cancel culture
When you release a pendulum, momentum will first cause it to swing broadly, continuing back and forth as the range of motion gradually decreases, and the pendulum slowly comes to a stop in the middle. I think of our culture as no different. When a large-scale societal shift happens, we too swing wildly at first, whipping to extremes, before we eventually calibrate to centre. The last few years have been full of social change – from political upheaval and multiple human-rights movements to the pandemic itself. And just like the pendulum, we have swung wildly.
As a concept, cancel culture made its way into the forefront between 2014 and 2019, fuelled by social movements and fanned by social media. At its best intentions, it is a collective effort to hold people, organisations, and movements responsible for reprehensible behaviour. As cancel culture has accelerated, however, I’ve seen how, in practice, it has come to resemble mob mentality at times, attacking anything or anyone who challenges or disagrees with a singular way of thinking.
While there are obviously situations where an ideology or the action of a person deserves condemnation, I strongly believe there is a huge difference between being cancelled and being held accountable – a difference that many of us have forgotten, but that yields extremely different results. While accountability allows for a person or brand to take ownership of their actions, ‘cancelling’ obliterates the conversation altogether.
Accountability allows for criticism with a constructive aspect. It keeps the door open for growth with the understanding that none of us are perfect and that we should strive to be better. Cancel culture, on the other hand, is pure criticism – with no room for growth or even dialogue. If a person questions what is being cancelled, they are cancelled along with it. This creates a hegemonic voice, which, in turn, eliminates all capability for intellectual discourse.
I find that thinking about it on a smaller, more personal scale helps. If a friend makes a mistake or does something you don’t like, does it really fix anything to cut them off and never speak to them again? Or would you get better results if you have an honest conversation where you make an effort to communicate and actually listen to the other person? Is it possible that you could still learn something from that friend and vice versa, even if you still don’t agree with them overall? The world thrives when we allow different voices and perspectives. It’s how we grow together. But we need to feel safe enough to have these conversations in the first place.
We’ve all witnessed how cancel culture has accelerated with the increase of social media. After all, it’s the perfect medium for blanket assumptions to spread at a rapid pace, based on bite-sized information. Not to mention that social media has the capability to unearth every single mistake we’ve ever made since its arrival. We’ve seen this happen with celebrities and public figures the most – given the nature of their visibility. But I would argue that if we really dug deeply enough, each and every one of us could be cancelled for something. As Obama said in his criticism of cancel culture, “The world is messy. There are ambiguities. People who do really good stuff have flaws.”
Just as the internet – and specifically social media – is well overdue for updated regulations, I believe the same goes for how we deal with cancel culture. Making boundaries clear for how people, brands, and their blunders should be held accountable is the only way I can foresee getting cancel culture under control and turning it into something constructive. How do we distinguish between an authentic goal of trying to fight prejudice and muddied intentions of self-interest? When does outspoken activism become bullying?
What happens to us as a society if we continue to paint people’s entire existence with their worst mistakes instead of putting them in context with everything else they have done? How can we find harmony between pushing to do better and allowing for grace in encouraging people to learn from their mistakes? I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that it starts with honest, humbled conversations and continues with an open mind. So the next time you see someone or something being cancelled, it might be worthwhile to ask yourself, “Is the world really better because of this?” Sometimes it might be. But more often, I would say that it probably isn’t.
Photography by Efraim Evidor
From Harper’s Bazaar Arabia July-August 2021 Issue.