By Sophia Mu ‘27

In the middle of a song, it appears that the creator has been “canceled.” Image from Trinitonian

Your favorite song is blasting, compelling you to raise your voice and vibe to the beat. For some reason, you feel almost guilty. After all, that creator had recently been accused of some horrible misdeed you cannot even remember, but it is probably bad. But where is the judgment coming from? Should you even feel this way?

Some of our most beloved pieces of music, art, and media are being tarnished by the revelation of artists’ misdeeds. This is only exacerbated by the supercharged pace of the internet, sending creators’ careers into early graves. These “cancelable” acts range from Taylor Swift’s advocacy for environmental protection while using her emission-ridden plane to buy groceries to a full blown sex trafficking ring from well known rapper P. Diddy. But to what extent should this chaos interfere with our ability to enjoy art under their names? 

To further explore the extent to which art is connected to its artist, I asked Mr. Allen, an English teacher at Newark Academy, for his take on this complex topic. He “believes that art is to some extent an extension of the artist.” During our English classes, reflecting on a writer’s circumstance and background often changes our perception and enjoyment of the work. Mr. Allen remarks, “Looking at the work in isolation can just be a very different experience… you will be missing out on some of the potential meaning.” To learn about the piece in its entirety, learning about the creator’s actions will transform the experience — either for good or for bad. 

Under the light of stardom, creators’ actions in some ways are fueled by fans. The parasocial fan-to-star phenomenon became more popular with the internet, with diehards raising impenetrable shields to protect their precious idols. Overwhelming power and magnification can lead to impaired judgment. According to Micheal’s House, creators can even become high off of the attention they bathe in, similar to addiction. 

The damage from cancel culture often strikes artists’ reputation, but its impact subsides after a week or two. Cancel culture often promotes one belief or morally right statement, leaving little room for critical thinking and necessary discourse. Also, the actual influence these movements have on artists’ careers seem minimal, as most supporters of creators hardly waver in the face of allegations. Most “canceled” artists’ bank accounts do not suffer from a trending hashtag. 

Mr. Allen also brings up the importance of our intentions. Thinking objectively about who we patronize is important, especially when their actions do not align with your own set of values. The line here can be blurry, as no matter the intention, in some way we will always be somehow supporting these creators. But there is a difference between reading a borrowed book and buying one, listening to a song and buying tickets to a concert, and analyzing art in a museum and viewing it online. Acknowledging an artists’ flaws while still bopping to their catchy tunes does not necessarily mean you align yourself with each of their decisions. 

But there are indeed many talented and hard-working creators with similar quality. So if the morality of contents’ creators affect your moral code, trying to pick up hidden gems may resolve the conflict between ethicality and enjoyment.

As Mr. Allen says, “Your choices are a reflection of your values.” It is up to you to decide which works you are able to and will continue to enjoy depending on your moral boundaries. Rather than seeing this as a burden, it is fascinating to see how our playlists in some ways define who we are. It can be difficult to tune out the cacophony of online clamor, but you should take this chance to reflect on the art you enjoy and patronize. Whether or not you decide to delete a song or two is unimportant, as long as you are at peace with your choices and their effect on society.