Ender’s Game’d: Four Things To Do When Art Is Easier To Like Than Its Creator

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen the link to the article that made me consider this, Alyssa Rosenberg’s piece in response to the then-upcoming Ender’s Game movie and the documented homophobic actions of its author, Orson Scott Card.

Although artists express themselves through their art, that doesn’t mean everything an artist believes comes through in every single piece of his or her work. Orson Scott Card definitely holds and acts upon moral opinions with which I completely disagree, but that doesn’t mean Ender’s Game does.* Given that this is the case, how can I — or how should I — separate the artist from his art?

I’d like to pause a moment and comment on the key point: Card acts on his beliefs right now in ways I believe harm other people. I’m not okay with some of the ideas propounded by C. S. Lewis, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Sir J. M. Barrie, but my not reading their books wouldn’t affect them in the slightest because, y’know, they’re dead. I also disagree with some things that (for instance) Neil Gaiman, J. K. Rowling, and Sir Terry Pratchett have said, but to the best of my knowledge, none of those authors works to prevent others from obtaining their rights. Ignoring their work would be silly, because the most fruitful way for me to deal with most of those disagreements is to engage with them.

But concentrating on engaging with someone who behaves like Card is a privileged response: I can afford to argue about ethics because I can still get married to my significant other and have legal rights to be with my spouse and children anywhere in the US; I don’t have to worry for my safety in certain areas or with people holding certain beliefs; and I don’t navigate a world where it’s still socially OK for some authority figures to treat me as second-rate because of my sexual orientation. Although of course Card’s actions affect people I love, they don’t affect my own comfortable daily life.

Anyway, as it turns out, I don’t really want to see Ender’s Game for reasons that have nothing to do with Card’s political actions. But that doesn’t change the fact that if I did, I’d still have no idea how to negotiate my fandom and my privilege as someone in the kind of “traditional” heterosexual relationship Card promotes.

Before I get into my attempts to do so, one more thing: I want to distinguish between censorship and responsible media consumption. Censorship is telling artists they can’t say certain things and destroying art that does say those things. This is something I oppose. Responsible media consumption, on the other hand, is the right of each audience member to react to art in a way that reflects his or her own values. This is a keystone of free speech. I support Orson Scott Card’s right to create and distribute Ender’s Game and his right to express and support homophobic viewpoints. However, audience members like me have equal rights to disagree with Card’s viewpoints, to support opposing movements, to critique his work, and to choose not to buy his art if we consider it to support a political stance we find untenable.

That said, as best I can see, there are four options for fans with the same kind of privilege as me**.

1. See the movie, do nothing else, and feel guilty.

Pros: This is the easiest way to deal with any moral dilemma — ignore it.

Cons: This is also the least effective way to deal with any moral dilemma.

I don’t deny that it’s possible to consider Card’s actions and the appeals of the movie and still decide to take this approach. But I do suggest that generally, treating the commercial product of an artist who acts on political beliefs one considers to be vile the same as any other work fails to take one’s ethical responsibilities into account. Large quantities of private guilty feelings never made the world a better place.

2. Don’t see the movie and feel proud and totally full of integrity.

Pros: Nobody dies from not seeing a movie that sparks their interest, and so it shouldn’t be a big deal to take the “safe” option: just don’t see it.

Cons: But that’s just it. It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t matter to anyone but me — OK, and the friends who might want to schedule a movie outing, and possibly the Cineplex folks who are actually getting my cash. But it definitely doesn’t matter to Orson Scott Card whether I go see the Ender’s Game movie, not unless he’s getting monster royalties for it, which seems unlikely based on what little I know of the movie business.

Besides, Rosenberg (see the link above) has a good point: if I decide not to go to Ender’s Game, it’s likely that I’ll affect other artists involved in the project way more than I’ll affect Card.

3. See or don’t see the movie but talk about it.

Pros:  To me, Rosenberg’s suggestion  of taking the opportunity to start a productive dialogue make more sense.

Cons: Although I have the greatest respect for the power of words and firmly believe that communication is necessary for positive change, it’s easy to fall into the trap of cheap talk.  “It’s OK that I supported homophobic viewpoints — I wrote a blog entry about how wrong they are and then forgot about it!”

4. See or don’t see the movie, talk about it or don’t, but work to make the world a better place.

Pros:  So why not take Rosenberg’s other suggestion — to be active in supporting other artists with positive messages — general? See the movie or not, but act to support your own political beliefs, in whatever form that may take. Communicate and start dialogue, but don’t forget to continue that dialogue. Listen and try to understand what others at different intersections of privilege and lack of privilege have to say. Don’t stop evaluating your own actions, on either the daily or grand-gesture level, for how closely they match your ideals, but forgive yourself for making mistakes and choose forward-looking motivation over backward-looking personal guilt.

Cons: It’s by far the most difficult.

As I guess most long-term solutions usually are. There’s no “the enemy’s gate is down!” when you’re not playing games.

* Although, yeah, it can be argued that it does, but not in the way its author does.

** I wouldn’t dream of suggesting ways that groups whose privilege (and/or lack thereof) differs from mine approach circumstances like these. I can speak only from my own life experience, and though I’m comfortable discussing responses with individuals with whom I have a personal relationship, I’m not qualified to generalize.