Unfiltered with Jessica

It’s 9:45 a.m., and I’m in a small classroom filled with my peers. The professor is presenting a concept that, in my mind, begs for debate, challenges, questions—but my hand remains glued to my desk. I want to ask, to push back, to share a different perspective. But I’ve learned that the classroom, once a sanctuary for open dialogue, is now an arena where even a slight misstep could mean social ostracism, a drop in my grade, or worse, being “canceled” by my peers.

Cancel culture is not a new phenomenon, but its grip on our society, particularly within college campuses, is tightening at an alarming rate. Historically, universities have been the birthplaces of revolutions, where radical ideas were nurtured, and diverse voices were given a platform. Today, however, they are becoming echo chambers of a single narrative, a monolithic view that crushes dissent under the weight of social pressure and self-righteousness.

The Tyranny of Ideological Conformity

The essence of cancel culture is censorship by another name. It masquerades as a virtuous movement, cloaked in the rhetoric of justice and equity. But beneath its righteous exterior–and even honorable intentions–lies a dangerous authoritarian impulse—the desire to silence, to exclude, and to erase. And where is this impulse most fervently felt? On the very campuses that once prided themselves on fostering intellectual diversity.

After getting my degree in business at a community college back in Washington, all I craved and wished for was a chance to attend a four year university. This is because I grew up idolizing and believing universities are meant to be bastions of free thought, arenas where the full spectrum of human ideas—no matter how uncomfortable or controversial—can be aired, debated, and dissected. Instead, I see a growing trend where only certain viewpoints are deemed “acceptable,” while others are demonized, ridiculed, or outright forbidden. While I consider myself independent and primarily in the middle when it comes to political ideologies–I can’t help but notice some voices being amplified while others are not. I’ve personally noticed that conservative voices, in particular, are often shunned—their speakers disinvited, their views dismissed, and their very presence deemed unacceptable. This isn’t to say that I identify as conservative myself, but it’s clear that this is not right. 

Consider this: not long ago, universities welcomed speakers with diverse political ideologies, from firebrand conservatives to revolutionary liberals. But today, even inviting a conservative speaker can provoke protests and backlash. For instance, DePaul University recently barred conservative commentator Ben Shapiro from speaking on campus, a decision the university justified as being based solely on security concerns rather than political bias. Now, I don’t claim to agree with everyone of Shapiro’s viewpoints; in fact, I’ve often found myself rolling my eyes at some of his remarks. However, listening to his perspective provokes different lines of thought and compels me to examine my own beliefs more critically. Engaging in debate with someone either strengthens your original convictions or broadens your understanding. Either way, what’s the harm in that? I want to be challenged by different beliefs and philosophies — and I can’t be the only one who feels this way. If my convictions are so fragile that they can’t withstand opposing viewpoints, then what am I gaining from my education? This kind of intellectual friction is precisely what I sought when entering higher education. Yet, when the range of acceptable discourse narrows, intellectual curiosity is stifled, shrinking under the weight of fear.

The Emotional Toll of Silence

As a student who has experienced the sharp edges of this new reality, let me tell you—it cuts deeper than you might think. Every time I bite my tongue in a discussion, every time I erase a sentence from an essay that might “offend,” every time I nod in agreement just to avoid confrontation, I feel a small piece of my integrity slip away. The fear of being “canceled” becomes a constant hum in the background, a mental tax that drains creativity, curiosity, and courage.

I’m grateful that I felt the pull to pursue psychology, as it’s given me another lens in which to see these topics through. Let’s not mince words: cancel culture is a form of psychological coercion. It thrives on fear—fear of exclusion, fear of social stigma, fear of losing opportunities or being branded with a digital scarlet letter. Back in caveman times, being “canceled” by the tribe wasn’t just a blow to one’s reputation–it often meant exile, and ultimately a death sentence. While obviously in today’s age being isolated isn’t quite that extreme, the stakes still feel so high that it’s easier to stay silent than to risk stepping out of line. 

What is Lost When Free Speech is Stifled?

What’s at stake here is more than just hurt feelings or damaged reputations. When we suppress free speech, we strip away the very essence of what makes a university, or any democratic society, vibrant and dynamic. The freedom to speak freely is the freedom to think deeply, to question boldly, to imagine possibilities beyond the horizon of our current understanding. When we lose that, we lose our capacity to learn from one another. We lose our ability to grow as individuals and as a society. We lose the richness of human experience, the diversity of thought, and the beauty of robust debate. We become poorer, smaller, less capable of understanding each other, less willing to bridge divides.

If we want to make progress, we need to stop responding to disagreements with reflexive outrage. Instead, let’s approach them with curiosity and empathy. Imagine if, instead of rushing to cancel, we chose to listen—to really listen—and then to engage.

The Case for Cancel Culture: A Nuanced Perspective

However, it’s essential to recognize that, despite its contentious nature, cancel culture holds significant value. It acts as a powerful tool for demanding accountability from individuals and institutions that perpetuate harmful behaviors and statements. This form of social accountability can foster a more inclusive and respectful environment, particularly for marginalized communities that have long been subjected to discrimination and injustice.

Consider those who have faced harmful rhetoric or actions; for many, cancel culture represents a form of justice when traditional systems fail to act. It amplifies voices that might otherwise be overlooked and shines a spotlight on issues demanding urgent reform. In this light, cancel culture can serve as a check against entrenched power structures and a driving force for societal change.

Yet, it’s crucial to distinguish between constructive criticism and outright silencing. Constructive criticism can spark meaningful dialogue and personal growth, whereas silencing can stifle diverse perspectives. The real challenge is to strike a balance—promoting accountability while maintaining space for open and respectful discussion. By adopting this nuanced approach, we can harness the positive aspects of cancel culture without falling prey to its potential pitfalls.

To Define or Be Defined by Cancel Culture

As someone who was born in 1997, I relate to both Gen Z and millennials, and I feel this is our moment to decide: will we let cancel culture be part of our legacy, or will we choose something more profound, more enduring? Will we be the generation that silenced the voices we didn’t like, or the generation that championed the right to speak freely, to think boldly, to learn and grow from one another?

To those who fear that opening the door to every viewpoint will flood us with hate, I say this: censorship has never been the answer. It doesn’t eradicate prejudice; it only drives it underground. The answer is not less speech, but more speech—more ideas, more dialogue, more understanding. If we don’t defend the right to speak freely, we risk losing it altogether.

Lastly

Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Antonin Scalia—two Supreme Court Justices who could not have been more different in their views, but yet they found deep friendship and mutual respect. Disagreement doesn’t have to mean discord, nor does it have to end in severed relationships. I’ve witnessed many friendships unravel over these issues, including my own. I’m not blameless; I recall scoffing and unfriending people during the height of COVID when we were all stuck at home, acting as keyboard warriors. But looking back, I realize that most of those “keyboard warriors,” myself included, genuinely meant well and were simply trying to do what they believed was right. So, I can’t mock them with a clear conscience. This is both the gift and the curse of sincerely evaluating and empathizing with all sides—you don’t get a convenient villain to blame or feel superior to.

At the core–at least I think so–we all just want to be heard, understood, and respected. If we can hold onto that, then perhaps we can navigate the turbulent waters of disagreement without losing sight of our shared humanity.