But the idea of Putin’s “cancellation” shouldn’t be consigned to the
slop bucket of public discourse, along with the other arguments caused
by bored, anxious onlookers milling about online. After all, the reason
I have voiced concerns over hair-trigger shamings and sackings is
precisely because those actions are so powerful. Cancellation works.
Cancellation hurts. And therefore, cancellation should be saved for the
very worst among us—those who commit violent crimes, incite others to
violence, or build careers on preaching hatred against minority groups.
The atrocities of which Putin’s troops are accused in Ukraine exceed
that threshold. There is a difference, it turns out, between the
hyperbolic invocation of “violence” on Twitter and literal violence
itself.[]
The ancient Greeks understood the power of creating outcasts. Athenians
had a range of punishments available to them that would make even a
southern Republican governor queasy, including death by exposure or
being thrown into a chasm. But ostracism, or 10 years of exile, was
considered so serious that it required a public vote, in which
offenders’ names were written on ostraka—shards of leftover pottery. The
toll of banishment is evident to modern researchers too.
A 2003 study found that the effects of being ostracized even show up on
MRIs. “Being the target of ostracism activates brain regions associated
with pain, threatens fundamental needs, worsens mood and causes behavior
changes,” note the authors of one psychology textbook. Ostracism is a
feeling from which no amount of money or privilege can insulate you.[]
When a Russian spymaster complains about his country’s cancellation, our
response should not be to laugh at an idiot confusing a culture war and
a real one. Instead, we should recognize that economic and social
isolation is a powerful weapon, and resolve to use it with the same
restraint as any other weapon.