In
case you haven’t heard, Justine Sacco, an executive at an American internet
corporation, recently tweeted from an airplane “Going to Africa. Hope I don't get AIDS. Just kidding.
I'm white!” Justine, (who was born in South Africa) received a barrage of angry
tweets, and the controversy has gone viral. TV pundits are shocked not only by Ms. Sacco’s racist sentiments, but by the online reaction, which ranged from
‘Total looser!’ to much more virulent, apparently unquotable, responses.
I find Sacco’s tweet ideas not only
racist, but homophobic as well -- especially in the context of her apology: ‘There
is an AIDS crisis taking place in…(South Africa)…that we read about in America,
but do not live with or face on a continuous basis.” Ahh. It seems that -- like
so many people -- Justine Sacco has difficulty feeling empathy for the sorrows
of others – especially those whose race or sexuality is different than hers.
Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, Justine, but in the USA where you now
live the AIDS crisis is not something that gay people have merely ‘read about.”
No. It is a terrible personal tragedy that has ripped our lives apart.
That
said, I must applaud Justine Sacco for bursting the nauseating bubble of
comforting hypocrisy that typifies our recent love affair with political
correctness. As we all know, two forms of utterance are dictated by western
culture’s relatively new conception of a diverse society: the public and the
private. It is universally accepted that all forms of public speech – i.e.
books, newspaper and magazine articles, speeches, and interviews – ban the
n-word when referring to African Americans, the f-word when referring to gay
men, and the c-word when referring to women. Most of us abide by this rule most of the time, and congratulate each
other ceaselessly for our civility, tolerance and open-mindedness.
But
private speech is another matter. When we are having a drink with a friend or
whispering sweet nothings in the ever-ubiquitous post-coital ear – anything
goes! It’s our private time, after all. How many of us have ever leaned over to
a pal ‘sotto voce’ confiding – ‘I know I shouldn’t say this, but –‘ or -- ‘Shh…
I hope know one’s listening…’ or the ever popular: ‘I know I say that, but what
I really think is – .‘
Civil
society is as fragile as the civil laws that provide its coherence. It’s one thing to legislate against hate
speech, and quite another to wrench hate forever from the human heart.
So
thank God for the internet.
For though we may think we
know the difference between public utterance and private speech, internet
chit-chat has made it increasingly difficult to separate the two.
Up
until recently the worldwide web seemed like the wild west of ideology, where
anything ‘went’ -- and anonymous
scatalogical rants ruled. But now Google and Apple have decided that some books
should not be available (it’s called censorship!), And Facebook categorically
assures us that some of our interchanges are protected and others (how’s that
again?) are not. At the same time we grow increasingly paranoid of government
and corporate attempts to use computers to gather our personal information.
In
other words, we’re not entirely sure if the internet a public space or a
private one.
So
classy, politically correct publicists like Justine Sacco can be caught with
their panties down and their hate quite visible for all to see.
Of
course it’s not easy to eradicate racism, sexism and homophobia -- especially
in an increasingly fundamentalist world
(witness the recent ‘Duck Dynasty’ controversy).
On
the other hand, the only we can deal with hate is not by pretending that it’s
over, but by bringing the hate centre stage and discussing it, admonishing the
sin (not the sinner): i.e. the hypocrisy that lies at the very core of western
culture.
So
thank you, Justine Sacco. You remind us yet again that each and every one of us
--when it comes dealing with our own, personal ingrown hate and prejudice, --is
wholly, completely -- nay utterly -- FULL OF CRAP.
You
may quote me.
