The Last Thing I Will Ever Say about Freedom of Speech
Excuse my hyperbole. This may not be the last time I ever speak about freedom of speech; absolutes are dangerous things and to be handled with care. But it makes a punchier title than “I am tired of having the same conversation about freedom of speech over and over again instead of actually using my freedom of speech to say what I want to say and have it understood.”
In the United States, “freedom of speech” has become the preferred battle standard of anyone whose words have been publicly challenged. Maybe it’s a street preacher who gets mocked or insulted by passersby as he shouts that they’re going to hell. Maybe it’s an ideologue who books speaking tours where he openly refers to minorities as subhuman, but sometimes finds his venues cancelling on him due to the backlash. Maybe it’s an armchair pundit posting incendiary and false conspiracy theories online, and being asked to modify his language or get banned.
It’s beginning to follow a predictable pattern: someone says something, loudly and publicly and incessantly. Someone replies with something along the lines of “that’s not true” or “that’s offensive” or “the ideas you’re promoting are doing real, measurable damage to people’s lives and that’s seriously fucked up.” Then the speaker (and anyone he’s managed to get on his side) cries “Freedom of speech is being challenged! What about my rights?” If the speaker’s opponents are stopped from rebutting, victory is declared.
Or, alternatively, someone is speaking out about something that matters to them — for instance, an activist protesting systemic injustice. Someone else takes offense at that speech or the way it’s being presented, and demands that it be ended or the speaker punished. Supporters rush to defend the speaker, and if they’re allowed to continue speaking, victory is declared — regardless of whether the speech was ever heard, understood, or acted on.
And then the conversation ceases to be about the thing being talked about, and starts being about the speaker’s right to talk.
It’s almost as if the speaker’s goal wasn’t even to discuss the ideas he’s presenting to the public, but to provoke outrage and use that to promote a narrative of victimization. I don’t know if I would go so far as to claim it’s a strategy that people are using intentionally to derail public discourse and manipulate situations to their own advantage. I don’t need to, because the effect is the same whether it’s being done intentionally or not. Public discourse is derailed. The topic originally being discussed is lost as it devolves into a discussion of what counts as speech, what counts as suppression of free speech, and whose speech is under threat by whom.
I have examples for you. An American football player protests police brutality against people of color in the United States by kneeling during the National Anthem. Self-described patriots take offense at this nonverbal speech and call for him and anyone who joins him to be punished. His organization institutes new rules explicitly requiring very specific expressions of respect for the Anthem, which do not include kneeling. Free expression is effectively curtailed, at least in this particular instance, and hundreds are rightfully outraged that their right to protest is being restricted in this way. Yet, how much of the public discourse surrounding these events even makes mention of the police brutality that inspired it all? If athletes win their right to kneel during the National Anthem, will we all be satisfied that we live in a fair and just society? Of course not. Freedom of speech is not the only thing at stake here. Remember that.
Another example is from my own experience. A targeted message of hate speech and implied threat was anonymously posted on a public university campus. The university’s administrators responded with vague affirmations of freedom of speech. The students whose community were explicitly targeted, and their allies, expressed their fear and outrage and demanded a more substantial show of support and protection. Several months later, the incident is still discussed among both administration and students, but the discussion mostly revolves around what legally counts as “hate speech” and whether it should be protected under the umbrella of “free speech”. For instance, in one of many meetings I attended, I said that if all speech is treated the same in an otherwise unequal society, by default not all people will be equally free to speak. A lawyer sitting across the table inferred that I wanted to restrict speech that upsets me personally, and mocked me when I tried to correct him. I stopped talking, not because I did not feel allowed to speak, but because I could sense that no real communication was occurring. When there is no sign of mutual understanding, I, personally, lose all will to speak.
The truth is, freedom of speech is so fundamental as to require no defense. Promoting freedom of speech in the United States today is too easy; it’s shooting imaginary fish in a barrel with legal precedent as your gun. What needs defense is the freedom to communicate, to be heard, to be understood, and to have one’s needs addressed. Also needed is greater assurance of the trustworthiness of what’s being said, especially by authoritative sources. Whenever “freedom of speech” becomes a major topic of discussion, stop and try to figure out: what specific speech is being defended or challenged? Is the challenge meant to silence, to refute, to criticize or to punish the speaker? Is there truth or beauty or good intent being communicated? Can anyone actually hear and understand each other? Is it just speech for its own sake? Speech for its own sake is not necessarily bad, but when it serves to divert attention from more urgent and vital conversation, it is a luxury we can’t afford to indulge.
Let there be no talk of talk without talk of things worth talking about.
