Freedom of Speech
Freedom of speech
Words are my currency so I was instantly captivated by a news item on Monday which took me to an interview with Sir Salman Rushdie. 
He was talking about his new book, Knife, and I was struck by a comment that language is his knife, the tool through which he cuts open to reveal the truth, enabling him to fight back against the physical knife which so savagely wounded him. Losing an eye, nearly losing his life, has not stopped him from speaking up about what he believes to be important. I might not always agree with him, but I do respect his right to state his opinion.
And hearing his determination made my mind tick faster in relation to a growing concern I have about the effects of words, free speech, peaceful protest, and the tensions that can be created, particularly where the speaker is eloquent and articulate. Somehow it’s becoming much more difficult to uphold freedom of speech.
Just this past week, 
I’ve been
listening to Vicky Beeching openly admitting to being gay at the age of 35 … losing her career as a Evangelical Christian singer songwriter as a consequence;
reading JK Rowling‘s defence of speaking her mind on the matter of gender transitioning … at the expense of her popularity;
watching Dr Hilary Cass drawing attention to the weak evidence underpinning the treatment of gender dysphoria … and attracting negativity.
Just three among many orators and writers, male and female, defending themselves against the abuse and condemnation and even death threats they’ve received for speaking their truth.
But, of course, words can also be used as weapons for ill. Receiving hate mail; watching fanatical preachers peddling condemnation and intolerance; seeing or hearing of ruthless zealots bent on purging the world of certain idea; reading vile slogans daubed on walls; these all chill the blood. I refuse to add links which might oil the engine of publicity for these people and their causes, but you know they exist.
Reflections this week, coupled with developments in my own life, make me want to add my mite by appealing to people everywhere – not just on the world stage, but in lesser everyday arenas – to respect the rights of others to have a considered view, and to express it without threat or abuse. My own experience of being sanctioned for subscribing to certain ideas is small fry when compared to Rushdie’s attempted murder, but I know what it feels like to be branded and punished for my words. This is not the mark of a civilised or compassionate society. But curiously, the more people try to silence me, the more powerfully I see how essential it is to stand up against oppression and bullying.
I prefer a quiet life, but not at all costs.
Freedom of Speech
After last week’s long post I thought brevity might be the order of the day this time.
Usually the BBC ask one eminent thinker to deliver its annual Reith lectures, but this year it chose to have four different speakers, with the umbrella theme, The Four Freedoms, dealing with freedom of Speech and Worship, and from Want and Fear, inspired by the famous speech by Franklin D Roosevelt. The first speaker, on the freedom of speech, was the acclaimed writer Chimamanda Ngosi Adichie. A must-listen for me.
Wow! What a thoughtful, beautifully articulated and erudite lecture. She spoke eloquently of the price people have paid for speaking out – the lives and well as freedoms taken, the abuse and violence suffered. Nevertheless, she argued, freedom of speech is the bedrock of an open and democratic society. So it grieves her that there is currently an epidemic of self-censorship, with people afraid to voice what they really believe because they feel they should not. Those who find the courage to speak up face the possibilities of a terrible online backlash of ugly personal insults, invasions of their privacy, risk to their jobs and families, threats to their lives. Society is in the grip of ‘cancel-culture tyranny’. Publishers are loathe to take on anything sensitive which might draw the fire of the vigilantes. Unpublished manuscripts are now scrutinised by sensitivity readers whose job it is to cleanse them of anything that might just constitute potentially offensive material.
But imposing silence and calling it tolerance doesn’t make it so. Real tolerance requires understanding; understanding comes from listening; listening presupposes speech.
In Chimamanda’s view, social censure is the crisis of our day. But, she concluded: We can protect our future. We just need to have the moral courage to speak up for truth and right. Not simply apologising to the victims, but directly challenging the perpetrators of hateful messages and behaviours. Given that she herself has been the victim of abuse for what she says and writes, this aspiration carries considerable weight.
A powerful message that resonated with me. I’m trying hard to build up my own moral courage to face discrimination and intolerance in my field of operation.