🔥The moral purity problem

A commentary on discourse and culture wars

Things move fast online. One day you’re laughing at a popular meme, the next you’re being condemned to online prison for laughing at the very same thing. 

This is what happened with Gary Barlow’s son. For those not chronically online, ex pop-star and alleged tax evader Gary Barlow shared a picture of his family. People honed in on the fact that his son was tall. That’s about it. It’s not even because he’s THAT tall, it’s just that next to his 5ft 7 father, his height was comically exaggerated. If anything, the joke is that Gary Barlow is short but because he’s a contentious figure, no one cares about that. 

But then the internet came with the jokes and the memes… Some silly, some surreal, some admittedly quite witty and others which awkwardly fell flat. Brands jumped on it, some people laughed, and then presumably everyone moved on with their lives.

Sure, it’s a cheap shot and not in the best taste but even I can see it’s not that deep. It’s a fleeting pop culture moment that would quickly be forgotten until the age-old British tradition of ‘taking the piss’ finds a new target. 

It wasn’t long before certain corners of the internet disagreed. Several posts began to circulate, calling out brands for jumping on the bandwagon and ‘punching down’ to make Barlow’s unsuspecting son ‘the butt of a mean joke’. 

‘This is bullying’ wrote one user on LinkedIn, a social media platform which is already a cesspit of lofty opinions, performative kindness, and insufferable self-wanks. 

‘People don’t realise how damn difficult it is for tall people… They spend almost every day listening to comments about it.’ 

I am cautious of condemning well meaning people, but as I read through the outraged replies, my only reaction was ‘Are they serious!?’ 

A tall order 

Yes, this is a person. We should never fail to remember that. Words can hurt. But gathering with pitchforks to battle *checks notes* comments that would result in little consequence other than hurt feelings? That feels somewhat absurd. 

It feels relevant to point out that tall men are not exactly a marginalised group. And while there are definitely good reasons to hold off ridiculing people for things they cannot change about their appearance, it must be said that tallness is also not a protected trait. It is not politicised in the same way that weight, gender, skin colour, or disabilities are. 

While it goes without saying that other attributes which are misaligned with social and/or beauty standards can make people unfortunate targets, tallness has long been viewed as a desirable. Jokes may ensue yes, but persecution? I’m not so sure… 

Perhaps had Barlow gone public to say his son’s mental health was suffering, then it would be completely correct to ask for people to stop. If the jokes became more sinister, more personal, more threatening, it would be right to condemn the online community - who let’s face it - have form for pushing people to their limits. 

But that’s not what was happening here (or at least to my knowledge) and that’s why it bothered me. While we are currently in the midst of 2 proxy ‘wars’, with global politics that is increasing in it’s horribleness, and genuine ongoing societal inequality; I really had to ask myself why this so-called issue was being focused upon here, now, by these people, and in this manner. 

I’ve never been a fan of Whataboutism, but what was missing from this take is a little thing called perspective. 

Moral purism on steroids 

We had similar debates back in early 2024 when the internet community went nuts speculating on the whereabouts of Kate Middleton. What began as a concerned curiosity raised by eccentric Royalists quickly turned into a parody. An outpouring of memes with increasingly ridiculous suggestions on where she might be later spiralled into outrageous conspiracy theories. 

Her announcement that she was being treated for cancer certainly gave a sobering perspective that put a dampener on the fun. And of course, the public weren’t to know. Had they known, I don’t think the reaction would have been the same. 

But the narrative flipped rather suddenly and people capitalised on the collective guilt. The press and the angry hordes chastised anyone who had dared shared or dared laugh, for being terrible human beings. What was initially light-hearted banter became a two-sided debate of what discussions should and shouldn’t be off limits - lest the curtain be lifted to reveal something much darker. 

We see this happen time and time again, mostly with celebrities in the public eye. Of course, it is this dynamic that fuelled the ‘be kind’ movement. The public become the hounds and the subject becomes the hounded. 

However, I feel that in certain pockets of the Be Kind movement, it is often less about teaching people to be kinder and more empathetic humans - it’s about people putting themselves on a moral pedestal and sneering at those they believe aren’t holding the same standards. 

There’s probably a whole other post in me on this topic, but the impossible and also highly hypocritical moral standards that people hold themselves and others to is a uniquely 21st century sickness for the digital age. It’s almost zealot-like in its approach. 

We’ve created a world where mistakes, indiscretions, and flawed but natural human behaviours require endless punishment, even if they were minor, many years ago, or genuinely misguided. 

(I hasten to add here that we’re talking about things like saying stupid or ill-informed things on Twitter, being too drunk in public, telling lies to stay out of trouble, feeling jealous of our best friends new house, or gossiping about our co-worker’s obvious day-off-for-a-job-interview - and NOT literal racism, assault, bigotry, or murder etc.) 

We build disparate environments online where people compete to be morally ‘pure’ - to position themselves as pillars of virtue, who always do the right thing and never side with the ‘wrong’ opinion. “The right side of history*” 

But it’s not about trying to be a better person. It’s becoming our idea of a ‘good person’. And so kindness becomes performative, acts of charity get heavily publicised, and our goodness is only valuable if it’s being perceived by others. In the online world, the need to be recognised as ‘good’ absolutely thrives, but it often becomes distorted. 

It’s all hashtags and black squares on your Instagram profile to signal that you’re not an arsehole, rather than doing anything actually productive.

*Which is always a silly concept to me because how can you ever be truly sure you’re staying on the right side of history until it has passed? 

Why are you mad, really? 

Going back to the Barlow example, I was struck by the language being used and the status of the people using it. It was language connected to oppression, injustice, unfairness, and inequality. It seemed extreme and misplaced in this scenario. The majority of people commenting were also not the demographic you’d expect. 

They were largely white, middle-class, and older than 30. The very section of society that younger generations often criticise for their distinct lack of wokeness. But the comments weren’t talking about a person being fired for their disability, or overlooked for a job due to their religion - they were literally criticising a few potentially uncomfortable jokes about a celebrities’ teenage son. 

And this is the problem - when we use language incorrectly it begins to lose all of its original meaning. By placing this story as one of victimhood, we dilute and skew what true victimhood ACTUALLY looks like. In trying to stand up for Barlow’s son, these people wanted to show that they care about people - but it actually demonstrated a lack of awareness. It’s an issue that they can call out in safety and comfort with fewer risks. But where are they when ACTUAL injustice rears its head? Do they bring the same energy to caring about those people too?

At worst , it’s pure performance. And at best, it’s heavily misdirected rage. 

Our fragility around wanting to be ‘good’ is exactly how culture wars are forged.

Eternal state of victimhood

My potentially cancelable take is that as white people, we do collectively have a tendency to make it all about ourselves. 

I was recently sent this TikTok explaining why (though this is not explicitly stated) hyper-individualism and culture wars are on the rise with specific reference to the recent US election. 

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdFB8Wp1/

In a nutshell, the user explains that generally - as white people - we have real challenges dealing with any sort of discomfort because our very existence is, by and large, a comfortable one; especially compared to our non-white counterparts. We live our lives cushioned by our whiteness, which shields us from certain types of oppression.

Now, of course this doesn’t mean that we don’t experience forms of struggle or oppression in our lives; especially when we start to bring other intersectional traits into the mix such as gender, sexuality, race, religion, disability, neurodivergence, mental health, and class. 

However, privilege is not something people like to admit they have. We don’t like to acknowledge that we benefit from systems that oppress others; even when we openly oppose or disagree with the system, even though it might not be our ‘fault’, even though it has allowed us to succeed in life. 

As culture has shifted towards recognising and calling for the dismantling of these systems, it understandably makes the benefactors feel nervous. Consciously or not, we want to cling to our ‘easy’ lives. We might be worried that sharing or handing off privilege to others will deny us of the same safety and opportunities we had before. Some will actively rail against it which is why we see movements like All Lives Matter, anti-immigration sentiment, and Incel culture take hold. 

Others, instead, will lean into their other marginalised traits even more to distance themselves from their privelege. They don’t feel they can be associated directly with whiteness because they are part of this other marginalised group. But what’s interesting here is that to an extent, we are still always protected by our bubble of whiteness. 

White feminists can openly criticise the gender paygap. White working class people can go on strike. White people with autism or anxiety have increasing space to say ‘I don’t want to eat that type of food’ or ‘I don’t feel happy in that environment’. We can all advocate for ourselves with fewer consequences because it’s mostly safer for us to do so. We can express when we’re uncomfortable. The trouble is that it makes us more resistant to discomfort so we do everything in our power to try and avoid it and thus, will try harder to shield others like us from it. 

In turn, it allows us to keep ourselves suspended in an exaggerated state of victimhood. This might seem like a reach, but this is exactly what I think is at the root of the Barlow debate. It’s overblown.

Unfortunately, discomfort is usually* the extent of the price we pay. For our non-white counterparts, the price is considerably higher. Discrimination, prison, abuse, assault, denial of access to care and resources, suicide, murder… the list goes on.

Our inability to tolerate discomfort can easily trick us into thinking we’re being oppressed and that’s when we start misunderstanding what oppression truly is. We start misusing the language of advocacy and start to conflate hurt feelings and discomfort as victimhood or a serious threat. 

As I said earlier, sometimes you need to have perspective. Especially when you have the luxury of choosing what you do or do not speak out on.  

It doesn’t take away from the fact that the discomfort we experience sucks, hurts, or that it’s unfair. It also doesn’t mean you should stop advocating for yourself or that your struggles aren’t relevant or ‘enough’ to warrant empathy. But it does mean that when culture war-style online discourse emerges, we’re misguidedly whipped into a frenzy over a topical non-issue rather than a genuine injustice. 

*but not always

Selective outrage  

So where does the moral purism come into it? Well, there are hundreds of people online currently feeling attacked about jokes, memes, and misused terms than there are people outraged about how othered groups are being treated by legal systems, workplaces, and political parties.

Defending a famous person who is being made fun of is safe ground for wealthy, white people, as they get to trot out the BeKind hashtag. Meanwhile, standing up for more heavily politicised topics comes with greater criticism and risk. 

Nobody is saying you have to speak out on absolutely everything, especially when you don’t have the knowledge or language to comment on it, but we must acknowledge there is a special kind of selectivism that happens. Take heed though; I am not saying it’s okay to troll or dox people in the public eye.

From my perspective, the Barlow outrage read as Gen X and Boomer-aged professionals not wanting to be canceled or seen as out of touch so instead, they are choosing to signal their morality over an issue that felt more accessible to them. Many of them will not be bad people - they still want to do the right thing - but objectively it’s still a big hoo-hah about not very much.

The monster they are trying to defeat here is merely discomfort.

Culture wars in general also highlight our bizarre obsession with presenting online as a good person rather than actually being a good person.

I tend to believe that ‘good’ people are a Biblical myth - that we all have complex shades of good and bad but most of us (or at least the more sane among us) try our best to get through life not being awful. Somewhere along the way, social media created another version of ourselves; a false self that we want others to accept - and the only way to gain acceptance was to hide the darker parts of ourselves that are less than perfect. And of course, what better way to do that than through deflection?

‘If I get publicly angry about someone else doing this bad thing over there, nobody will suspect or question that I’ve done a potentially bad thing over here.’

It’s why I am immediately suspicious of people who give strangers gifts in an ‘act of generosity’ because usually those same people are not always as generous with their time, patience, or friendship. It’s all for show. And you can’t trick me! 

Tall story short 

Now that I’ve completed my own act of moral deflection, I think it’s safe to say that I’m not beating myself up for being amused by a few memes. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe.

I grow more exhausted with online culture by the day but the blurring lines between genuine nastiness and humour are always something I’ve struggled to understand. I also can’t figure out why some issues cause outpourings of fury and others go unnoticed. Or why people readily buy into inflammatory headlines that make issues out of nothing, yet will turn a blind eye to evidence and vote in their worst interests?

It’s like a game for which only few comprehend the rules. Who decides what’s okay and what isn’t? Do we have the ability to stop ourselves from letting it all go too far?

The culture wars rage on and we simply add fuel to the fire.

With all that said, I still think it’s an age-old switcheroo - guilty people channeling anger and frustration into all the wrong places to defend all the wrong causes when there’s so much more in this world to stand up for - and so much more to human complexity that we feel comfortable to acknowledge.

So yes, it’s in poor taste to make a person the butt of an online joke but ask yourself, what’s the real punchline?

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What are your thoughts? Share in the comments below