Professor Jonathan Haidt, social psychologist at New York University’s Stern School of Business, author of The Righteous Mind and co-author of The Coddling of the American Mind Professor Nadine Strossen, John Marshall Harlan II Professor of Law, Emerita at New York Law School, former president of the American Civil Liberties Union Professor Eugene Volokh, Gary T. Schwartz Distinguished Professor of Law at UCLA School of Law, and founder of “The Volokh Conspiracy,” one of the most influential and widely read legal blogs in the country

Strossen made a distinction between healthy self-censorship and unhealthy callout culture. Productive self-censorship, she said, “is part of a healthy discourse on campus and elsewhere…in a healthy, vibrant discourse you are seeking to pursue the dialogue, to exchange and refine and refute and debate ideas and perhaps, change minds.” She continued, “Whereas the goal of cancel culture seems to be, as the word implies, to end the discussion to take not only certain ideas and certain subjects off the table entirely, but to take certain people out of the discussion entirely. It is effectively the death penalty.” When asked why so many are quick to participate in cancel culture, Haidt explained, “When we see professors piling on, I think it’s more driven by fear than the desire for prestige. It’s driven by the fear that you’ll be next.”

“programs like these. There is such a growing interest in an opportunity to learn about and empower people to raise their voices. I also just read a survey that shows that people in this country are not politically active at all, and unfortunately, they are not raising their voices at all to counter the excesses of cancel culture.

When asked what makes each panelist optimistic about the future of cancel culture, Haidt chimed in first, saying, “A lot of survey work shows that most people hate cancel culture, political correctness, and wokeness—even most people on the left.”

“I think we should take every opportunity we have, including through forums like this, to tell people what a big difference they can make by raising their voices. As my favorite ACLU T-shirt says, ‘You have the right not to remain silent.’”

“As a pro-liberty feminist, this reminds me of a famous line in a Supreme Court decision by the great liberal Justice William Brennan, but he took it from an ACLU brief written by the great then-ACLU lawyer Ruth Bader Ginsberg, striking down a supposedly protective law for women. He said, ‘This reflects romantic paternalism, which far from putting women on a pedestal actually puts them in a cage.’”

Cancel culture has become so widespread, it has ruined lives, damaged reputations, and jeopardized the futures of young people whose lives have barely begun.

Volokh offered a slightly different view of cancel culture, expressing that social ridicule is not akin to being sent to the gulags or even being sent to jail. “It’s not death, it’s not even really social death. So, we need to keep things in perspective.” But he does admit that this is a huge problem, agreeing with Haidt’s sentiment and explaining that the threat of being fired or the threat of being kicked out of college “powerfully deters people from expressing themselves.”

Haidt made a bold statement, calling cancel culture, “the social death penalty.” He explained that in this current climate, those calling for cancellation make “no effort to see what the accused actually said or what the context may have been.”

Where we used to be able to disagree with each other civilly, over the past several years respectful discourse has been harder to find. Now, individuals on both sides of the aisle are calling for the “cancelling” and “de-platforming”—the removal of individuals’ access to public platforms and from positions of power—of those who don’t agree with them.

This is what we're looking at, and we all see it. I didn't tell you. You didn't askme. I never opened my mouth and you never opened yours

I sent you a table with a red cloth on it, a cage, a rabbit,and the number eight in blue ink. You got them all, especially that blue eight. We've engaged in an act of telepathy.No mythy-mountain shit; real telepathy

Look—here's a table covered with a red cloth. On it is acage the size of a small fish aquarium. In the cage is a whiterabbit with a pink nose and pink-rimmed eyes. In its frontpaws is a carrot-stub upon which it is contentedly munching.On its back, clearly marked in blue ink, is the numeral 8.Do we see the same thing? We'd have to get together andcompare notes to make absolutely sure, but I think we do.There will be necessary variations, of course: some receiverswill see a cloth which is turkey red, some will see one that'sscarlet, while others may see still other shades. (To colorblind receivers, the red tablecloth is the dark gray of cigarashes.) Some may see scalloped edges, some may see straightones. Decorative souls may add a little lace, and welcomemy tablecloth is your tablecloth, knock yourself out.

For one thing, it is described interms of rough comparison, which is useful only if you and I seethe world and measure the things in it with similar eyes.

So I read where I can, but I have a favorite place and probably you do, too—a place where the light is good and thevibe is usually strong. For me it's the blue chair in my study.For you it might be the couch on the sunporch, the rocker in104On Writingthe kitchen, or maybe it's propped up in your bed—readingin bed can be heaven, assuming you can get just the rightamount of light on the page and aren't prone to spilling yourcoffee or cognac on the sheets.

We're not even in the same year together, let alone the sameroom . . . except we are together. We're close.We're having a meeting of the minds.

Look—here's a table covered with a red cloth. On it is acage the size of a small fish aquarium. In the cage is a whiterabbit with a pink nose and pink-rimmed eyes. In its frontpaws is a carrot-stub upon which it is contentedly munching.On its back, clearly marked in blue ink, is the numeral 8.Do we see the same thing? We'd have to get together andcompare notes to make absolutely sure, but I think we do.

That's your little red wagon, asRobert McCammon says in one of his novels

Not that you have to bethere; books are a uniquely portable magic. I usually listen toone in the car (always unabridged; I think abridged audio-books are the pits), and carry another wherever I go. You justnever know when you'll want an escape hatch:

You can approach the act of writing with nervousness,excitement, hopefulness, or even despair—the sense that youcan never completely put on the page what's in your mindand heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenchedand your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take downnames. You can come to it because you want a girl to marryyou or because you want to change the world. Come to it anyway but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly tothe blank page

Let me say it again: you must not come lightly tothe blank page.106On WritingI'm not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly;I'm not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside yoursense of humor (please God you have one). This isn't a popularity contest, it's not the moral Olympics, and it's not church.But it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting oneyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If youcan't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and dosomething else.

But it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting oneyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business.

My name is Stephen King. I'm writing the first draft of thispart at my desk (the one under the eave) on a snowy morningin December of 1997