On the SFWA Bulletin Petition Thing Nonsense
(Note: I’ve listed links to other posts on this topic at the end.) I won’t have anything extensive to say on this “anti-political-correctness” petition thing. That’s mostly because Radish Reviews has pretty well covered it… That said, there are a few things I’ll address: 1) I’m utterly baffled by the difficulty certain members of this community have with understanding what the First Amendment means. We went over this in depth in my senior year of high school (everyone had to take a semester of government), so it was never a confusion for me: the First Amendment only applies to the government interfering with speech. In any other instance in which speech is hindered, the crime isn’t in preventing one’s speech, but something else entirely. Libel perhaps. Or maybe someone tied you down and forced you to write something against your will (like in Misery). All illegal because you’re committing other forms of crime. But it’s not illegal for me to tell anyone they can’t write for my blog. It’s my blog. It’s my space. If you were to ask me why I was censoring you by not letting you write for my blog, my only response would be: fuck off. And the SFWA is a private organization with its own rules, and one of those rules says the President handles publications. So if the President wants to change the Bulletin to a fishing journal, he or she can do that. Granted, I think it would be utterly stupid to do something like that, but so be it. That wouldn’t be censorship either. Even so, as C.C. Finlay has made clear all over the place, the changes coming to the Bulletin were requested by the majority of members, and one of those requests was basically “not publishing things that alienate segments of the community.” You know, because the Bulletin is supposed to serve the members at large, not some subset of people who don’t particularly care if they offend other people with their words. And if a good portion of people are offended by the content (legitimately offended, not “I’m offended because your offense means I can’t be offensive anymore,” which is total bullshit), then it makes sense to change things. Imagine, if you will (because you are probably a fan of SF/F and are fully capable of using your imagination), a situation where the Bulletin published an article in which one of the authors said Mormons aren’t real Christians (in seriousness, not as a reference to a work or something). Can you imagine how many Mormons would be offended by this? I know a few. I’m sure some Mormon members of this organization would be offended, too. And wouldn’t it go without saying that maybe we shouldn’t publish something in a journal about writing advice and market tips and professionalism that basically shits on other people, or at least makes others feel like they’ve been shit on (since individual perspectives vary)? Seems logical to me. It’s about respect, which I’ve already talked about. 2) I’m likewise baffled that Robert Silverberg admitted to signing the offensive, early version of the petition, even while admitting that he didn’t like what was in it. How am I to take this man’s judgment seriously? I don’t sign a loan contract if line 57 says “once a month, you will submit for experimental radiation tests to grow an alien tumor out of your rectum” and then say, “Well, but you’re going to change that part, right?” The petition isn’t legally binding, obviously, but I still don’t understand the defense. Either you agree with it as it is, or you don’t. And if you don’t…well, don’t sign it. I should also note that the original version of the petition is precisely the problem with this whole conversation: here’s the point <0>……………………………………….and here’s them <X>. They don’t get it. In case you missed that part. 3) The petition makes this strange claim that the Bulletin is becoming politicized (it’s politically correct, oh noes), but I fail to see how removing things that have nothing to do with the theme of the Bulletin and intentionally making the content more inclusive is anything but apolitical. The Bulletin isn’t a place to voice your political opinions anyway, so why should it make any effort to become a sandbox for those opinions which piss off a huge portion of the electorate and the people who actually care about this field? It doesn’t cost anyone anything not to be a rude dick in a professional journal (and, yes, that’s what this comes down to). Why would you *need* to voice an opinion about gay marriage or whether you think some members are fascists when that’s not the point of the Bulletin anyway? This isn’t about politics. Well, OK, outside of the Bulletin, it’s about politics on some level, though I’m inclined as a crazy liberal raised by a lesbian mother ninja to think that inclusiveness is apolitical in nature. But the Bulletin isn’t about politics. That’s not it’s purpose. That’s not what SFWA’s members want it to address. So this is a non-issue. 4) I don’t know Resnick and Malzberg. I’ve said my share on last year’s Bulletin fiasco already. I will agree that some of the dialogue surrounding last year’s events reaches too far. However, I also understand the frustration. For me, the issue with Resnick/Malzberg’s column is no longer “there was sexism in there,” which, in my mind, is fairly weak tea in comparison to, say Theodore Beale (Vox Day, who has since been removed from the SFWA), but rather the behavior demonstrated in that final column. To receive a lot of criticism from a wide body of individuals and to simply discount it is one thing, but to then use a professional organization’s professional publication to lob an attack on those people is callous at best, petty and horrendously unprofessional at worst. This is not the kind of behavior one expects to find in the pages of a professional journal, nor
Moderating the Community and the Cost of Respect
In a recent blog post, Alastair Reynolds took on what he perceives to be the instantaneous vitriol that peppers (or, perhaps, consumes) the SF/F community on a regular basis. Hence the title: “Does it have to be this way?” It’s essentially an argument for moderation by way of a questioning of the current state of discussion in this community, and it’s an interesting question to ask. Does it have to be this way? No. That’s kind of the point. Most of these discussions don’t have to begin and end with vitriol, though I think some of them require a certain firmness and uncompromising language (some). In fact, it’s entirely reasonable to expect two people from different camps to have a reasonable discussion about a hot topic and come out having actually learned something (I do this on G+ all the time). I’ve certainly been guilty of jumping without much care to where I land, and it’s something that I’ve tried to rectify to avoid the trap of attack over substance (it’s an ongoing process). I’m certainly not successful on all counts, and it has taken some degree of effort to hone my pouncing instincts so I’m not pouncing when I should be doing something else. Even then, I try to pick my battles with some degree of care. I’m sympathetic, then, to Reynold’s question and implied argument: there is some need for, if not value in, moderating the community, especially in situations when the benefit of the doubt is actually necessary. This is something I’ve started to consider further in my own case, as even I have had a tendency to leap into things, believing I’m in the right, when I may be doing more harm than good. After all, it is possible I’ve misread situations, seeing what is obviously offensive to me, but missing what was the intention. That’s not to suggest that intention gets one out of doing something boneheaded, mind you, but I do think intention should be taken into account more often than it is within our community. If our community did more of that, perhaps we’d have more dialogue between various groups. For example, there’s the response to Paul Kemp’s original masculinity argument (which I sort of responded to here). I think there are serious issues with what he claimed, particularly in the assumptions he raised and reinforced in order to get to his point, but I also went into that discussion realizing Kemp’s intentions were not malignant. I understood the point he was trying to make, and so I tried to address that point without actually dealing with the individual (in part because I’ve talked with Kemp in the past and can’t see Kemp as deliberately “starting shit,” though his most recent post on this subject has thrown me for a loop). Even Alex MacFarlane’s post on non-binary SF (which I responded to here) contains arguments I think are stretching; but the intention behind that post was, overall, a good one. The responses to MacFarlane’s post, however, have been, at least where the “opposition” is concerned, hardly measured. In some cases, they have been downright mean and accusatory, as if their authors were personally offended by the content of MacFarlane’s argument. I’ll admit that it’s probably easy to find the patience for intention when it comes from someone with whom you’re likely to already agree, but every time I read MacFarlane’s post, I cannot fathom why some of the responses have been so vitriolic. Except now. Now, I’m starting to understand. Now, I recognize part of the trend in so many ragefests in our community (from any side). Sometimes moderation doesn’t work because the parties involved have sacrificed respect for the other in the service of whatever point they want to make. And in the face of that, it is impossible to take a moderate position (in the loosest sense — discussion over attack) when the thing to which you are responding has already committed offense without consideration of its impact. In Reynolds’ post, for example, one commenter basically implied that they should be able to identify a transgender person by their biologically defined sex and attending gender without push back by others. Reynolds rightly called this person out for the comment, and it is still there as of the writing of this post. These sorts of arguments are almost explicit in their rejection of empathy and respect for another individual. The opinion isn’t the concern; rather, it is the complete disinterest in the personal desires of the individual. In this argument, it doesn’t matter what a transgender person feels or prefers; what matters is what is “the majority opinion” or “whatever suits my personal opinion of the matter.” That’s problematic on its own. Yet, this same argument either implies or explicitly states that refusing the empathic or respectful position deserves absolute respect and compromise for itself. It’s an argument for consequence-free social action, which itself is a justification not for moderation, but the extreme. Yet, when this is pointed out to people who reject en mass the entirety of gender as a fluid social construct, they refuse, even on grounds of empathy, to give way, and become further entrenched. It is as if the very idea of a transgender person being offended by being ignored and rejected out of hand is an offense in and of itself. For me, much of this comes down to the cost. It is one thing to demand respect for a position which directly affects others in a negative sense. If, for example, I were to demand respect for my position that we should boot all libertarians from the SFWA because I think they’re fascist pig monkeys (note: I do not actually believe this), you would be right in giving me no ground whatsoever, especially if you are a libertarian. But what exactly is lost by calling someone by the gender they believe they are? I mean that question seriously: what is lost by compromising on this
Non-Binary SF/F and Message Fiction (or, “I don’t know what that is or why non-binary SF/F fits”)
(Note: comments will be monitored on this post due to the nature of the debate surrounding this topic. I hope I won’t have to remove anything, but I have a low tolerance for rude behavior right now. If you can’t make your point without being a jackass, even if that point agrees with my own, then take it elsewhere.) You might have seen the response to Alex MacFarlane’s Tor.com post, “Post-Binary Gender in SF: Introduction.” If not, you can read the words of Jim C. Hines and Justin Landon, who both have things to say of their own. I’m not going to address content of the primary response to MacFarlane (well, not the whole of it, anyway) or offer a line-by-line critique a la Hines. Rather, I want to talk about a specific issue within this debate: message fiction. I would also be remiss to neglect to mention my post entitled “Gender Essentialism, Genre, and Me,” which is amusingly relevant to the larger discussion being had in the community right now. First, though I’m going to try to tease out the definition of message fiction in general by the end of this post, I should note that I’m not altogether clear on what certain individuals mean when they revile message fiction, except insofar as the politics are concerned. Of the many references some in this debate have made to “the message”, none of them properly defines the term and most engage with a strawman version of MacFarlan’es argument. MacFarlane’s column concerns the tendency to marginalize works which feature non-binary genders by exceptionalizing them. Her primary example is The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, which she says has been held up as the pinnacle of post-binary SF, while other equally important works have fallen away, such that we are constantly “re-discovering” them: It seems to me that there’s a similar process for post-binary texts: they exist, but each reader must discover them anew amid a narrative that says they are unusual, they are rare, they sit outside the standard set of stories. This, at least, has been my experience. I want to dismantle the sediment—to not only talk about post-binary texts and bring them to attention of more readers, but to do away with the default narrative. MacFarlane, in other words, is interested in this narrative, not quotas or checklists — the narrative which says “these texts about non-binary genders are not normal precisely because they are unusual.” The problem with this narrative is in its ability to provide a rationale for ignorance, not on some political territory where these works must be ignored because they violate some central tenet of an “ism” — though this is true to an extent — but rather on the simple basis of cultural amnesia. If we are not talking about works of a particular form, we are submitting to the possibility that those works will be forgotten, and along with them, the value they produce for the communities to which they might belong. It is for this reason, I think, that she begins the post with the following: “I want an end to the default of binary gender in science fiction stories” (emphasis mine). The word “default” is not insignificant in the context of the entire post.[1] The post isn’t calling for fiction to deliberately include non-binary genders for the sake of doing so (i.e., for an agenda); rather, it calls for SF/F to remove the default assumptions about gender in order to open up wider possibilities for inclusion (who does the including isn’t exactly relevant, since nobody has to do anything here). I think this is a far too lofty goal, and deeply hyperbolic, but it seems like some have missed that careful nuance for one reason or another. The idea that all SF/F must, by necessity, court the content of MacFarlane’s argument isn’t a notion supported by the argument itself. In all of this, the question for me becomes: do the works MacFarlane wishes to discuss in this series deserve to be remembered? Personally, I think they do for various reasons, though the most relevant here, I think, is the fact that these works, even in their most obscure forms, are an example of SF/F’s remarkable imaginative, extrapolative, and critical potential. And that potential is not isolated to “stuffy” works; rather, it is found in a whole sea of exceptional and memorable texts from before the codification of the genres to the present. This is what SF/F does best! Most of the time, it’s a lot of fun (in my entirely subjective opinion). All of this brings me back to the point about “message fiction.” The entirety of discussion about this topic concerns a term which has no defined criteria by which we can discern message fiction from just fiction. The only criteria, as far as I can tell, is that message fiction isn’t fun, but since “fun” is entirely subjective, it’s impossible to apply that in any significant way. Some who attack message fiction provide an explanation for one of message fiction’s functions, which is to subvert the natural drive of a narrative by bogging down the whole with an agenda, but the best explanation on offer boils down to “here are some works which have messages.” Even upon a deeper search into certain individuals’ posts revealed little useful material for understanding, at the very least, how they define the term. There are numerous claims about liberals taking over Worldcon, making it impossible for conservative message stories (or books by conservatives, by extension) to appear on the ballots[3] and people avoiding SF because of messages. At what point does fiction with political issues in them become “preachy” or “message-y”? No idea. The argument is never made; we’re simply supposed to accept it as accurate on the basis of someone’s word, which you’ll notice is quite difficult when so much of the discussion centers around political affiliations (liberals this, liberals that). The claims are weirdly paranoid, like the Illuminati
Gender Essentialism, Genre, and Me
I’m late to the party. The first major SF/F controversy party. And while this post won’t be about Kemp’s argument specifically, it does come out of the discussions about his post — most particularly the criticisms.[1] Part of the problem I have with traditional gender roles is the way they assume what manhood (or womanhood) is based on behaviors which are definitively not gendered. There’s nothing explicitly masculine about aggression or nobility. There’s nothing explicitly feminine about child rearing, except insofar as it is currently required for women to be the carriers of unborn children. Gender essentalism, however, assumes there are definitely gendered behaviors, such that chivalry is read as “male/masculine” and cowardice is read as “female/feminine.” If this association sounds negative, that’s because the construction of male/female or masculine/feminine is frequently a negative. These associations are also oriented around agency, where masculine behaviors are active and feminine behaviors are passive. There are all manner of gendered constructions, and each is based on arbitrary, culturally-determined factors. The impact of gender essentialism in this particular context is often unintended, but, by the nature of a culture’s ability to transmit its behavioral modes, it is also pervasive. We are all coded by our gender without ever having a say in the matter. My culture tells me I should behave in certain ways because that is what men do; it tells me there is a true form of manhood; and it tells me that I am deviant, even in an innocuous sense, if I do not conform to these standards. It’s that absence of agency which should make all of us pause. In effect, I am, as Louis Althusser might argue, interpellated by/into my culture’s gender paradigms as it codes my identify for me and I, as all children do, react by internalizing these values.[2] As I grew older, it became clear how pervasive and abusive these standards and values were. When I was told as a young man that I was not masculine (i.e., male enough) because I did not engage in feats of strength, it was implied that I must acquire that masculine behavior to properly assert my manhood. If I wasn’t into sports, I was naturally feminine. If I shared my emotions, I was more woman than man. In other words, my youth was a process of cultural assault, by which my behaviors had to be coded along gender lines, interpreted, and then rejected if they did not conform to the norm. This is not exactly a unique experience, either, though my examples above are certainly reductive. Women are told all manner of similar things, too, so I imagine I’m not wrong in asserting that the psychological impact of gender essentialism is rarely positive for any gender. It reinforces gender roles as fixed, when in fact they are anything but, and it shames those who do not conform by implicitly stripping them of their gender and assigning a new one. Thus, women who are aggressive are “manly.” A great genre example is Grace Jones’ performance of Zula in Conan the Destroyer (1984). Here, we’re presented with a woman who is every bit as aggressive and noble (or not) as Conan (Schwarzenegger). She wields spears and screams warcries as she cuts into enemies. She doesn’t shy from battle or give in to injury or the intimacy of others.[3] But she is definitively a woman, and expresses that behavior in ways particular to herself, not to her gender.[4] That she is the female opposite of Conan is not insignificant: she isn’t an enigma, but the embodiment of an anti-essentialist stance on gender (incomplete though that stance may be). Women can be warriors without becoming “men.” Women can be brutal and limited in their emotional expression without sacrificing their gender association. In other words, this idea that there are “gendered behaviors” in any pure or stable sense should seem absurd to all of us. We can easily point to examples whereat someone behaves contrary to their assigned gender, and yet in doing so, they do not cease to be whatever gender they so choose.[5] That’s the point I think more of us need to grasp in the SF/F/H community. If you want to write characters who behave like chivalrous knights, then do so. But there’s no reason to assume those characters must be male, or that their behaviors are masculine by nature. We can do without thinking in those terms. We’d certainly be better without it… ————————————————— [1]: Based on my interactions with Mr. Kemp, I think I am correct in saying that his post was ill-considered in certain respects. I understand what he is trying to say, but his methods for making that point were unintentionally sexist. Instead of saying “I like writing masculine stories because men,” he might have said “I like writing stories that feature these virtues and behaviors.” He might even have said he is most comfortable writing men, which is hardly an offense in my opinion. I, for example, am only semi-comfortable writing men, which might explain why many of my protagonists (in written, not published fiction) are women (or sometimes something other than straight white guys); whether my writing is good is a whole different question. In any case, it’s the fact that his post reinforces traditional gender roles and applies certain virtuous actions specifically to male behavior which poses the problem for most. [2]: This is a horrible reduction of Althusser’s work. I hope you’ll forgive me. [3]: In all fairness, she is perhaps naturally distrustful of others because she is treated quite poorly by the people of her world. I wish she had appeared in more Conan films, though. Zula is such a fascinating character, and easily one of my favorites. [4]: I should note that Zula was actually a man in the comic books. She may not be the best example to make my point, but I love her, so I’m sticking to it… [5]: I realize that there is some slipperiness in the
A Plea for Universal Free Wireless (in airports, at least)
I am currently sitting in Houston’s magnificent airport after leg two of my four-leg flight to Sacramento. The things I do for family… Anyway. A few hours before, I was in Tampa, FL, whose airport not only has a pretty impressive view of the skyscrapers in a gorgeous dawning sun (I have a picture that I can’t share right now for reasons that will become apparently shortly), but they also had wireless. Gorgeous wireless. It was relatively swift, allowed all of my normal functions (blogging, Twitter, Facebook, general searches, etc.), and was all around just good. Before that, I was in Gainesville, FL, whose airport barely deserves the title, but also includes at least usable wireless — it’s not all that quick, but compared to the public wireless at the community college where I am employed, it is like night and day. Houston, however, has none of these things. Right now, I’m snatching wireless off one of the airline desks nearby; they apparently have never heard of passwords. This service only allows me to access Blogger and general search, but Twitter and all of my apps (even the ones that have nothing to do with social media, but require Internet to function) are blocked. I can’t even search for ebooks on this thing… The only other public option around here is one run by one of the hotspot companies. It costs $4.95 for an hour, which is the only time I can use anyway (your only other option is $7.95 a month, but since I don’t fly all that much, let alone to or from or around Houston, it’s really not worth it). I think this price is basically extortion. In other words, there is no viable Internet option here. This is not the first time I’ve been trapped in an airport without free wireless. You’ll forgive me for demonstrating my privilege, but I think all airports should have free wireless by default. There are a lot of good reasons for this, from simple convenience and customer satisfaction to the fact that social networks allow information to move quickly within airport terminals (just in case something has happened inside and you don’t know what’s going on — Tweeting, after all, is quiet; then again, maybe this is a stretch). Ultimately, I think customer satisfaction is the one that will matter most, as giving us access helps us pass the time doing something we apparently enjoy, whether it’s chatting with friends online, reading online newspaper articles, searching for an ebook to read, or something else. So this is my plea for universal wireless in airports. I’d love it if Internet access were universal in general, but I think this is a good place to start. Go wireless, go wireless, go, go, go wireless!
Reviewers vs. Authors vs. Twitter vs. Strange Horizons: One Thought
WTF is wrong with you, SF/F community? I’ll have another post in the near future. . . . . . . . . . . . . P.S.: This post is not an opinion on the subject at hand (i.e. the content of the original Strange Horizons post). Rather, it’s all I have to say at the moment about threats of sexual violence in response to female bloggers talking about something as mundane as “authors commenting on reviewer/reader blogs.” I’m just flabbergasted about it all, to be honest…