I grew up in a family of four; arguments were common. As children, most of us-especially those who come from large families-had to fight hard for attention. We had to utilize all of the tools at our limited disposal. Among these was the pure, unadulterated power of volume: we discovered at an early age that it was possible to win arguments by virtue of being the only kid left screaming. Sheer loudness represented the blunt force of a stubborn opinion; endurance succeeded over elegance. Caution, nuance, shade-these elements merely undermined the strength of our beliefs, tripping us up while other, louder voices crowded in. The results literally spoke for themselves. If you wanted to say something, you had to yell it.
Last week made clear to me that after fifteen years not much has changed. Granted, we don't yell in quite the same way-the methods with which people peddle their dogmatic attitudes have evolved, grown subtler. Instead of commanding the loudest voice we try to adopt the most cajoling, the least forgiving, the easiest to sell. But the basic principle remains: the last person standing can dictate the terms of discussion.
What bothered me most about Tucker Max's visit to Hopkins was not the hostility that he met but the hostility that I met, and the HOP met, and many of my peers met-essentially anyone who wanted to hear this guy talk. I have no interest in defending Max as an entertainer or a decent human being; on that front, I think the consensus has been delivered, and the conversation has moved on, and who cares anyway? Tucker Max is no more or less than some harsh words on a page or at a podium. What we're really talking about is the perceived notion that some fundamental atrocity has been committed here; that the propagation of misogyny was given direct or indirect clearance on our campus. Last week a group of protestors, spearheaded by a few domineering students, made the case that it was, and that (through attendance or apathy) we were all complicit, and that we should be ashamed. They made a lot of noise but I'm not sure the argument was won.
One of their assertions held that, by paying Max to visit, the school effectively endorsed the content of his speech. This is patently ridiculous. Hopkins hires many political figures from both sides of the spectrum-we wouldn't suggest that in doing so the school is supporting their respective views. The most you could say with regard to Max is that Hopkins provided a platform for his hate speech. But this is a misleading statement as well. Though the administration's predictable and reactionary response to the student outcry was tinged with an unfortunate quality of pandering, of playing-it-safe, they at least clarified their obligations vis a vis free speech. Hopkins does not censor. It was the HOP's decision to hire Max, and the administration gives such organizations the freedom to invite whom they please. Far more than controversy would be at stake if this policy were reversed.
So should we hold the HOP accountable for this heinous misjudgment? As far as I'm concerned they fulfilled their purpose, as well: they got asses into seats. Would-be attendants actually had to be turned away. I don't know how often that happens, but my guess is not very. Obviously, an organization like the HOP, which subsidizes its events with student tuition, must be wary of divisiveness, but this merely raises more ambiguous issues. Can the students who headed the protest speak for all women on campus? Decidedly not. Although women as a demographic have endured a history of subjugation and prejudice similar to ethnic or racial minorities, the groups are not analogous in every respect. For one thing, women do not constitute a minority. This is not a trivial point. The fact is that women make up a demographic too large to be spoken for by a select few-I talked with many female students who rejected the protesters' agenda on these grounds. They had found nothing terribly offensive about Max's book and looked forward to seeing him speak. But they felt marginalized and shamed by the most aggressive of the protesters, who condescended to them as if they couldn't understand the larger picture, as though their enthusiasm engendered a self-defeating stance. That an individual should be made to feel that they have in some way harmed their own cause is more than unfair: it's downright malicious.
And, at the end of the day, we have to wonder whether Max is actually doing more harm than the edgy comedian with an obvious, marketable shtick. Could the efforts of the protesters have been channeled into more effective avenues? The House of Representatives has recently amended their health bill to suspend government subsidies for abortion procedures. Tucker Max versus the future of our national health care: which do you think poses the larger worry?
