An odd thing about free societies is that we are forever talking about free speech. And quite freely at that. Which is good, though you’re free to disagree.
The latest example: an invitation by the National Gallery of Canada to University of Toronto Prof. Jordan Peterson to give a public lecture on the psychology of creativity. The gallery notes that he is an expert in his field, but these days Peterson is usually reported on – by our free press – with the word “controversial” attached.
In 2016, he declared he would not use genderless pronouns to refer to some of his students, and decried the pressure he faced, including from his university, to do so. Some in minority communities were offended by his stand, because they’ve struggled to have their gender identities respected and have asked that people employ “they” rather than “he” or “she.” These folks figure Peterson’s trying to get up their noses by declining. This might be right; you’re free to think what you wish.
Many gallery patrons want to hear his presentation (the talk is free, by the way). Other people say they’ll cancel their memberships over his pronoun positioning. He’s also supposed to talk at the Ottawa Public Library and some don’t like that either. They’re free to walk away.
Does free speech include insisting that either venue shut him down, cancel his 15 minutes (or one hour) of fame? Is he an example of free speech run amok? Is he, as some worry, a magnet for the alt-right (a.k.a. white supremacists) and thus not deserving of the tolerance you and I would extend each other in a free-wheeling debate, over beer, about other heated topics such as, say, Quebec separatism or building pipelines? The activists want his microphone turned off. The right to not be offended trumps, well, people who might remind us of Trump.
The Peterson principle, if we may now call it that, has been busily at work in many spots. Last month, a group of offended people called on Bishop’s University in Sherbrooke to pull the plug on a talk by lawyer Marie Henein, who, as Jian Ghomeshi’s lawyer, got him off on some nasty sex charges. Bishop’s said it would let her speak, and life went on.
Universities, of course, have always been at the centre of the free-speech squall, either because tenured professors insist on saying things obnoxious to many of us, or because campus clubs invite “controversial” figures to rail against commonly held values. Just now, there is also alarm about a British Holocaust denier being allowed to speak in Canada.
The secret, of course, is not to smother views that disgust us but to confront them. If you think, oh, I dunno, that Kellie Leitch is spewing the most odious pile of Canadian-values moose scat you’ve ever smelled, the traditions of intellectual freedom suggest you mop this up smartly with an extra-strength dollop of rational rebuttal. That would probably be better than simply tweeting cleverly to your friends about her video skills (though of course you are free to insult any politician’s appearance before a camera if that’s your thing. Ah, liberty!).
Meanwhile, it has been quite popular among an entirely different group to suggest that House of Commons Motion 103 (condemning Islamophobia, you may recall) would, if passed, curtail free speech. You could certainly reach that conclusion if you were on a mind-bending substance. It’s a free country, after all.
In the early 1990s, the straight-laced burgers of Ottawa gasped in horror at artist Jana Sterbak’s famous “Vanitas” flesh dress – better known as the “meat dress” – long before Lady Gaga donned one in 2010. Sterbak’s sewn slabs of flank steak were displayed at the National Gallery, and some who disagreed with both her esthetic sense and her social message demanded it be removed (or cooked; I forget) while other artsy wags asserted the controversy was just the sizzle of free speech.
Three decades later, we really haven’t resolved these tensions. Which, I suppose, is the strength of speaking freely. An intellectual free-for-all isn’t such a bad thing.
Christina Spencer is the Citizen’s editorial pages editor.