Essay: This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things
13 years ago
Apparently there is a Controversy™ surrounding a certain background character who, in a recent episode of Friendship Is Magic, actually got spoken lines and was addressed by name. That name was Derpy.
How real the controversy is I can’t determine; the signal-to-noise ratio is entirely unfavorable. What matters, however, is that it has resulted in real-world effects. We Love Fine, a small company that makes a great deal of money through its license from Hasbro, has felt compelled to change the description of every item featuring the character or her mark, removing the offending(?) name. The episode on which she appeared has vanished from iTunes. (Fortunately I downloaded my copy before it did so.) And the brouhaha from the fans has been deafening.
The objection to the name, as far as I can tell, is that it demeans the mentally handicapped and is used as a schoolyard insult. This strikes me as a classic example of political correctness run amok; certainly I’d never heard that interpretation of “derp” before, and had understood its meaning to be similar to Homer Simpson’s exclamation of “doh”. Moreover, shoolchildren will find ways to insult others; trying to deprive them of ammunition for said insults works no better than trying to outlaw real ammunition, and trying only makes things worse, not better. I know; I was the butt of enough such insults.
I firmly believe the resulting tempest in a teacup is far more hurtful to a far greater number of people than the name possibly could be. Think of the fans whose unalloyed enthusiasm for and enjoyment of the gesture made by the production staff has been soured—as mine has. Think of the production staff whose wonderful and unlooked-for gift to the fans, one they were under no obligation to present, has blown up like a grenade in their metaphorical hands. Think of the company executives who may be faced with an unpalatable choice between knuckling under to this pernicious sanctimony and being accused stridently of callousness—emotional blackmail, in effect. (Yes, they’re human beings too and some of them do try to do the right thing.)
For Celestia’s sake, it’s a children’s television program—one I watch because it is beautiful and affecting, and is able to bring down my blood pressure just by watching it. That it cannot escape the very travails it seeks to elevate its watchers above is a triumph for the Bowdlers and the Werthams of the world . . . and a defeat for the rest of us.
How real the controversy is I can’t determine; the signal-to-noise ratio is entirely unfavorable. What matters, however, is that it has resulted in real-world effects. We Love Fine, a small company that makes a great deal of money through its license from Hasbro, has felt compelled to change the description of every item featuring the character or her mark, removing the offending(?) name. The episode on which she appeared has vanished from iTunes. (Fortunately I downloaded my copy before it did so.) And the brouhaha from the fans has been deafening.
The objection to the name, as far as I can tell, is that it demeans the mentally handicapped and is used as a schoolyard insult. This strikes me as a classic example of political correctness run amok; certainly I’d never heard that interpretation of “derp” before, and had understood its meaning to be similar to Homer Simpson’s exclamation of “doh”. Moreover, shoolchildren will find ways to insult others; trying to deprive them of ammunition for said insults works no better than trying to outlaw real ammunition, and trying only makes things worse, not better. I know; I was the butt of enough such insults.
I firmly believe the resulting tempest in a teacup is far more hurtful to a far greater number of people than the name possibly could be. Think of the fans whose unalloyed enthusiasm for and enjoyment of the gesture made by the production staff has been soured—as mine has. Think of the production staff whose wonderful and unlooked-for gift to the fans, one they were under no obligation to present, has blown up like a grenade in their metaphorical hands. Think of the company executives who may be faced with an unpalatable choice between knuckling under to this pernicious sanctimony and being accused stridently of callousness—emotional blackmail, in effect. (Yes, they’re human beings too and some of them do try to do the right thing.)
For Celestia’s sake, it’s a children’s television program—one I watch because it is beautiful and affecting, and is able to bring down my blood pressure just by watching it. That it cannot escape the very travails it seeks to elevate its watchers above is a triumph for the Bowdlers and the Werthams of the world . . . and a defeat for the rest of us.
I recall people saying Ponyville's mailpony would never get a major part or a speaking role, because no matter what the animators did someone would be disappointed. Sucks that the prediction turned out to be right.
Don't expect the FIM animators to ever elevate another background character, though. They played nice, and tried to give the fans a surprise that would never have been tried before, and now they are being forced to do damage control.
To tell the truth, you’ve put your finger on the aspect that bothers me the most: its impact on the production staff. They just wanted to give the fans a lovely little gift, and now it’s turned into a small nightmare. That, and your prediction of their reaction, inspired the title of my post.
The voice? Also not a problem. Saying "this is a male voice" or "this is a female pony's body" is itself a type of prejudice. Until a gender is specified by so much as a pronoun, it's still unspecified.
Given the amount of fuss over the whole thing, I haven’t gone out of my way to investigate the affair. I’m content to wait and see how it shakes out, as I suspect delving into the affair would raise my blood pressure to no good effect.
Fan support may have had an impact, and I did sign the petition of support. It’s possible also that the company dithered for a short while, then made up its collective mind. For that matter, the two needn’t be mutually exclusive!
Sticking to their guns would be the right thing for Hasbro to do. Moreover, trying to back away and re-do things would be a major pain, it would be a tacit admission that they thought the complaint had merit, and it would be a golden invitation to try the same tactics again—and again and again and again—which would make it nearly impossible for them to get anything done.
Your words are wise, sir, and I think this is probably the best way to deal with it that I've heard from anyone.
Moreover, trying to back away and re-do things would be a major pain, it would be a tacit admission that they thought the complaint had merit, and it would be a golden invitation to try the same tactics again—and again and again and again—which would make it nearly impossible for them to get anything done.
Once you pay the Dane-Geld, you'll never be rid of the Dane.