I live long enough to remember the years when the “wow” effect from new software all but disappeared. It was some time between 2000 and 2005. Previously, every new software package had been filled with mind-blowing functions that made our lives easier and more pleasant, and most importantly, they worked. Coincidentally, that is when hordes of developers poured to the Internet, which had become affordable right before. They began to offer their free, open-source projects to everyone, no questions asked. And that is when Cancel Culture took its first, soft steps into our societal fabric.
The root cause lies in the domain of psychology: software developers back then were highly educated university graduates, each with their inflated ego. They spent lots of money on their degrees; they were told that the world will depend on the fruits of their labor; they were under the impression that they are about to shape the future. But instead those pesky users came back with bug reports. The developers’ natural reaction? It was to silence them. The developers could not resist because it can be so simply achieved: in a few mouse clicks or key presses, your detractor is gone. The temptation was irresistible. And so civilization fell but failed to notice it.
Having learned from the lessons of USENET, where there was no way to ban users, which had become important the moment USENET came under attack by spammers, the creators of online forum software built the ban function into their products. That was when Cancel Culture instantly took human civilization into a choke hold that it is never going to release. The developers of free, open-source products should have demonstrated their civic awareness, courage, and adherence to the principles that they had been paying lip service to and refused to build the ban function in. They should have denounced it. But instead they offered and celebrated it. By playing along with everyone who wanted to silence critics, they shot the messenger, instead of addressing the root cause: the impunity of those who commercialized the Internet by disrespecting the rules of resources, i.e. the spammers. This was a band-aid solution that did not address the root cause but diverted attention and created more problems than it solved.
From the abodes of the free, open-source software developers, Cancel Culture spread quickly as everyone realized how simple it is to silence critics: click, and they are gone. None gave a passing thought to the side effects of doing so. None became concerned that by falling to temptation of silencing critics, we send a clear message to those against whom human rights and freedoms had been devised and crafted, i.e. to the governments and bureaucracies of all sorts. The latter immediately heard and heeded it: that we do not value our freedoms that we proclaim, that we do not live by that which we demand, that we do not apply to everyone that which we take for granted. And they immediately came down on us with the crushing force. Today, we no longer enjoy the same freedom of speech that we had been enjoying in the preceding decades.
Stupid is as stupid does. The free, open-source software developers behaved stupidly. They could have realized that and corrected their behavior, but they failed or chose not to. For some reason, they and everyone are enjoying the same self-destructive behavior more and more, to the delight of everyone whom our freedoms make cringe. And so we fall and plunge under the iron sole of everyone for whom individual freedoms are affront to their urge to dominate and rule.
Congratulations, you, highly educated developers of free, open-source code! You have ruined it for everyone. Now, we live in the world in which we can no longer speak our mind, in which the shaming and cancelling someone for speaking their mind has become the norm and is perceived as something natural, ordinary, and customary. Oh, how wrong you are, and you will live to realize it. Your awakening will be rude, but it will be too late. This is what falling for a temptation does to people.