The efficacy of ‘cancelling artists’: sexism in holding our artists accountable

In an ever-evolving world of publicised existence, the rise of ‘cancel culture’ and a growing demand for moral responsibility and political perfection from our celebrities, it is becoming more and more important that we examine the origin of these expectations, and from whom specifically. It is no question that the internet subjects its residents to scandal after scandal, repeatedly raising its expectations for outspokenness, financial aid and ‘proper’ moral behaviour. There is an undeniable difference, however, in general attitude towards male versus female artists and the standards we hold different genders to. It appears as though male artists are able to shirk the scrutinising gaze of cancel culture fairly effectively, coming out mostly unscathed when facing public backlash, whereas female artists toe a much finer line between potential financial ruin and the next summer-defining album. Undoubtedly, the bar for acceptable behaviour is much lower for male artists, and there is no good reason for it aside from general patriarchal lenience. Furthermore, female artists aren’t just criticised for negative behaviour, but are expected to display a certain extent of positive behaviour too. While vague, the term ‘positive behaviour’ may encapsulate any extent of philanthropic behaviour or use of celebrity power to advocate for social causes. For example, Chappel Roan, the breakout popstar of the past two years, has been criticised for even asserting her right to privacy from invasive fans, citing their behaviour as feeling like ‘abuse’ to her, and defining her right to privacy and agency more intensely than pop stars of the past. This uptick in the assertion of her right to personal freedom, or a life outside of stardom is making her a subject of scathing critique. This is largely due to the wider public having a strangely parasocial relationship with their celebrities, and holding a feeling of obligation and possession over them. The diminishment of celebrities to something akin to a service has undoubtedly led to their dehumanisation, and the expectation of a constantly flawless performance conveniently ignores the taxing effects of this.

While the efforts of cancel culture are widespread, Roan has been criticised the harshest by her own fanbase, an amalgamation of a variety of minorities, but is predominantly a queer audience. This is due to her stardom finding its roots in queer culture, and her proclaimed lesbian identity. The associated upset originates from her occasionally flaky or ‘performative’ treatment of the source of her success. The ‘cultures she champions’ are political at their base, but yet Roan claims she ‘doesn’t know how famous people find the time to be politically educated’, which feels a little ironic considering she has incidentally made herself a champion of queer rights. While it is important to hold our stars accountable, it feels largely like the efforts of her jurors are misguided in the grand scheme of political advancement. While Roan is examined at microscopic levels, artists like Chris Brown and Kanye West face a disproportional level of backlash for their actions. This is likely due to the stark difference in fanbase between these separate artists, who feel no obligation to hold their artists to a proclaimed ‘higher moral standard’, thus the problematic behaviour of these artists is mostly left unchecked and they escape scandal relatively unscathed (after a few days of criticism from Twitter users). For example, after Brown’s history of alleged sexual assault and abuse, he still managed to sell out his 2025 ‘Breezy Bowl XX’ stadium tour, making $295.5 million at the box office, with an audience of 1.98 million. The disparity in our treatment of musical celebrities using baseless differentials like gender is inarguably unfair and prejudiced – a result of the always lingering sexism in the music industry. It could also be argued that instead of appointing fairly leftist figures like Roan as some kind of villain, more politically active fans should diffuse and divert their attention to addressing and calling out more pressing issues within the behaviour of artists.

Cancel culture has pervaded both the content of music and the wider world outside of music itself. Popstar Sabrina Carpenter, the darling of the past few summers, is no stranger to lyrical or performance-based critique over the course of her career. Despite never claiming to be a child-friendly singer, unlike the Kidz Bop covers of her songs, parents and a distinct wave of puritanical Gen Z critics have found issue with her overtly sexual and male-oriented lyricism and theatricality. This is largely untrue to begin with, as Carpenter does not solely write about sex, stating that “those are the songs that you’ve made popular. Clearly you love sex. You’re obsessed with it.”: her love songs are hardly as popular as her ‘horny anthems’, so writes the Evening Standard. The crux of the debate lies in whether her album cover and songs like Juno are anti-feminist statements catered to male satisfaction or an ironic critique on the harsh standards placed on female sexuality. Adversely, in a genre light-years away, artists like Ken Carson also write about sex and most definitely diminish women as sexual objects and possessions, but no one is attempting to take their child to their concerts or criticising their writing to such an extent. Society’s distinct treatment of male and female artists may be accredited to the age-old issue of society being built for men. Women, especially in their careers, are expected to be ‘tasteful’, ‘palatable’ and submissive to the wills of the greater public. They are infantilised, held to impossibly high standards or catalogued by their willingness to appease the masses. Whether the criticism sources itself from niche communities and subreddits, or public newspapers and online magazines, women are undoubtedly the world’s most frequent victims of ‘cancel culture’, or more readily disguised sexism. The intent behind these critiques, whether a hunger for social justice or outrage at anti-conformity, dissolves when you realise that men are just never held to the same degree of accountability, and their crimes usually far outweigh their counterparts in severity.

Image: Martin Yanakiev on flickr

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