Is Cancel Culture Giving You Commitment Issues?
Reflection on a human commitment epidemic.
The appointment was in one hour. It was a twelve-minute walk from my Miami apartment. The sun was shining over a blue sky. It’d be a nice walk. There was no denying that my eyebrows needed threading. It was under twenty dollars. There was no reason for me not to go.
But I’d made this appointment on my phone, just like my scheduled gym classes or takeaway orders. Cancellation was always a beguiling red button away. Never mind the five-dollar fee or the empty slot I’d leave on someone’s calendar. This was about me—my day—my peace. And the elevator has been acting up lately. God forbid I have to take the stairs.
Commitment Issues
My pastor recently talked about how, several years ago, if a man wanted a high-ranking position in society, he had to be a symbol of commitment. He was to be married and married for a long time, not sleeping around, not over-indulging in alcohol, and not flashing his wealth. He was to be stable, reliable, and independent from his impulses before he could be considered for a higher-ranking job/role/office.
I thought that sounded quite nice. “Yes,” I thought, nodding. Maybe smiling. “Most modern men need a good kick in the ass, don’t they?”
That night, my fiance asked me why half of our cupboard was scattered about on my writing desk. I told him that if I was already in the kitchen and I didn’t want to go back upstairs to fetch my old coffee cup, I would just get a new one. Then I’d have two. Three. So on, as the cycle grows. Lazy, absolutely. Malicious, no?
It wasn’t for a few more months that I realized I might have an actual problem. A friend of ours made a comment, not in their best moment, that rubbed Colin and me the wrong way. It was obvious they didn’t mean for it to come out in a certain tone. It wasn’t a derogatory, insulting, or even political statement. We could’ve chalked it up to a slip of judgment.
After we part, Colin & I are stewing in it alone.
“Screw that.”
“How insolent. I don’t know if I can ever speak to this person again.”
“Yeah, don’t.”
Our conversation went something like this. And mind you, this wasn’t some horrible encounter. It was just someone, someone we care about, who could use some grace.
After some serious reflection and study, I had the thought while reading a book by Sadie Robertson:
“Am I trying to make my life into an algorithm?”
“Do I cancel everything in my life that I’m slightly inconvenienced by?”
Protect Yourself. Unfollow Hard Things.
Gallup reports that the average teenager spends about five hours daily on social media. By the time they turn sixteen, they’re spending closer to six. I made my first Instagram account when I was thirteen.
Now, thirteen years later, I still have an account. For half of my life, I’ve been following people I like and unfollowing those that I don’t. At an early age, I conformed to social norms like:
Blocking people who disagree with me, even slightly
Getting unfollowed by friends who are upset with me, even temporarily
Following people I don’t even know, but everyone else seems to like
Social media lives on your custom viewpoints, lifestyle, and demographics, and to some extent, this is celebrated. Follow your interests. Protect your peace. Unfollow, comment, refollow, or block.
After all, your algorithm is yours to customize. Your life is yours to live.
And that’s the problem. We’re so addicted to social media that we’ve convinced ourselves that our whole lives are built like algorithms. The Unfollow mentality suggests that anytime you disagree with someone or something, you can just remove it from your life. We refuse to interact with diverse thoughts in the name of seeing more of what already suits us. It’s not “keeping your peace.” It’s living on sheer impulse.
We cancel them. They cancel us. One nation Under God?
As an author, I read the blogs of literary publicists and publishers in all corners of the industry. The night that JD Vance was announced as Trump’s VP, a person who I respect and is highly respected in the book industry posted an article. They claimed that to protect freedom of speech and the liberal authors in our industry, major publishers and bookstores should boycott Vance’s novel Hillbilly Elegy. The article couldn’t have come out more than 2 hours after the announcement.
What was so curious to me, was the fact that when the book was published was simultaneously the period of time when JD Vance had taken a strong stance against Trump. If the book had anything to do with the former president, and it didn’t, wouldn’t it be a reflection of that guy?
Nevertheless, I kept this to myself. I watched as a bloodbath of comments and unfollows soon caught up to the publicist. The next day, so much negativity found its way onto their platform that they issued an apology. One giant shitshow, but a song and dance that none of us are unfamiliar with.
As I reflected on this, I couldn’t help but wonder: Is this the algorithm’s fault? Both sides of this coin were working on canceling the voices of the other. And it all seemed so impulse-driven. Everyone involved was letting their knee-jerk reactions sit in the driver’s seat. Nobody won a prize for going to bed angry. There was no winner on the digital battlefield.
I think ‘Unfollow’ has become an instinct for many of us in real life. From coffee cups to relationships. We find out something that challenges us and our actions reflect that of weakness—we block it out at all costs. It’s cowardly, dangerous, and, quite frankly, going nowhere.
What about the babies?
It seems like every issue we have with people, society, and anything else under the sun has become more personal with Unfollow culture. Because we can just cancel each other out of one another’s lives at the drop of a hat, I think all of us cling to some kind of fear that if we’re not riding the trends and sticking with the masses, we might just disappear forever. We’ll be booted out of our own society if we go against the grain. Our hardwired solution is to, in turn, take up as much space as possible. Make all the noise. Beat them before they beat you.
But what about the babies? I’ve been around a lot of children under five recently, and I notice a common denominator between them is that they can pretty much say whatever they want, and no one is going to be actually mad at them. It’s like there’s an expiration date for graceful conversation, and they’re still under it. They might get a talking to, an explanation about why that language isn’t helpful. But each conversation is coated in love and aims for understanding.
I don’t think regressing our maturity to that of babies is an idyllic solution. But I am curious: When did we stop treating each other with that kind of care? Sure, we’ve grown up. But I don’t think life ever gets easier to understand as we get older. We might grasp basic concepts, but we all still struggle with where to draw a line when it comes to our values, our environment, and the conflict between the two. There is always more for everyone to learn.
Hard conversation is rarely comfortable, even for babies, but when did we lose the aim of understanding and trade it for destruction? And can we honestly ask ourselves which one is really working?
Christianity & Commitment Issues
I think it’s safe to say that Jesus probably holds two of the most famous titles in all of history:
The most indestructible person that ever walked/will walk Earth
The most canceled person that ever walked/will walk Earth
What’s so interesting about giving your life to Christ is that it causes you to commit. And committing is great until it’s not. Giving my life to Christ was fantastic until that first cycle of bills (I thought Jesus paid it all?), that first rift with a loved one, and that first realization that this might actually be pretty freaking hard? Why did I do this again?
The reason commitment issues are so heavy on my heart right now is that I feel the pain in them. Not with my romantic relationship but with my commitment to God. I feel the annoyance of having to give up a job that wasn’t good for me. I feel anger when I can’t jet off to Thailand when life gets stressful the way people on the Delta commercials can. I feel frustrated when my schedule gets full, and it feels like faith is just another item on my checklist.
And what does God call me to with those feelings? Talk to Him about them. He can handle the hard conversations. And the responses we get in our lives are always rooted first in love and friendship. That’s what real commitment is. No matter the discomfort, the awkward moments, the unseen days/months/years, you stay committed to staying in the conversation. Maturity made beautiful.
Jesus has followers. Real ones. He has for centuries, and he will for many more. I think the reason people are able to follow Jesus, even now, centuries later, is because He’s willing to have those hard conversations with you. You’re not going to get canceled. Correction comes from a focal point of grace instead of damnation and destruction. Before he was anything, he was a friend.
And I can’t think of a better way to learn how to live my life.
Thanks for reading! I’m getting back in the swing of Substack after the YBS release and have some fun announcements coming up for you all.
Speaking of YBS, the beautiful hardcover (designed by Jeff Miller) was released last week (exclusive to Amazon), and I am so excited to share it with you in 10 more countries. Check it out here.
Stay tuned for more twists and turns, undoubtedly coming soon :)
-linds