Words Are Not Violence.

violence is violence

On the evening of March 27, 2022, Chris Rock said in one of his jokes that Jada Pinkett Smith was in “GI Jane 2,” apparently a reference to her short hair, and Will Smith appeared to laugh. Moments later, Smith went onstage and assaulted Chris Rock by hitting him in the face.

Because Twitter is where common sense, decency, human intelligence, and everything else that civilization depends on goes to die, Twitter filled up with defenses of Will Smith’s action. Many of these defenses relied on the idea that Rock’s joke was “ableist violence,” that mocking a “disability” is violence, and other false equivalencies that asserted Smith’s violence was an appropriate response to Rock’s words because Rock’s words were in fact violent.

Here is why those defenses are complete bullshit.

Adults Have Agency.

Human adults have a choice about how much damage words do. This is not the case with violence. Violence has consequences that are often unpredictable and uncontrollable, wreaking damage both physical and psychic that can go on for years.

Words can be misunderstood. Violence is unmistakable.

Words are more or less hurtful depending on where you are, psychologically and physically, when you hear them. For example, if you are criticized in private when you’re calm, well-rested and serene, it is easier to accept the criticism than if it’s done publicly, or when you’re tired and stressed out.

Being on the receiving end of violence is not something where your choice to ignore or disregard the other person’s opinion of you can eliminate the consequences.

If you could have avoided being hurt by some loud music in the background, you have not experienced violence.

Am I Saying Verbal Abuse Isn’t A Thing?

No. Children who are verbally abused by parents can and do suffer lifelong consequences—because children are uniquely vulnerable and parental input is uniquely powerful.

To demonstrate that I do grasp nuances here: yes, there are very rare situations for adults that can sometimes result in something that approaches genuine vulnerability to verbally inflicted damage, even in mentally competent adults. For example, clergy and therapists can sometimes have a potentially dangerous level of power (in particular situations with some parishioners and patients). This is why there are religious denominations with hierarchical structures for the former and licensing boards for the latter—we have structures and systems in place to protect the vulnerable in those (again, very rare) situations.

The vast, vast, vast majority of adults are capable of mitigating the damage inflicted by words in all situations, and they can do this by simply deciding to. That is what makes violence different from words.

Chris Rock made a joke about someone to whom he was not a parent, clergy, or therapist. He made a joke about the hairstyle of a powerful, privileged, wealthy woman. The level of offense taken was 100% a choice, a decision fully and wholly left up to Jada Pinkett Smith and her husband.

What About Defending His Wife’s Honor?

This is a laughably stupid defense. A comedian who was hired to make jokes at a show business event made a joke. If that is an impugning of honor, then there is no longer any such thing as permissible comedy.

If Will Smith willfully committed a crime on live television because he regarded it as necessary to defend his wife’s honor, then the appropriate next step is to turn himself in to the police and face the consequences. There is a place for breaking the law or a contract in the service of a principle, and that place is made honorable by accepting the consequences—by the protestor who goes limp and forces the police to carry them away and shows up in court; by the whistleblower who violates their Non-Disclosure Agreement to alert the public, knowing they will be fired and potentially sued.

Did Chris Rock Have It Coming?

Years ago, a young woman, who was the size and weight of an adult, muttered “fuck off” under her breath in the presence of another person, fully intending to express disrespect and contempt. That person shoved her in response to her comment, and she was knocked into the nearest wall.

Was it justified?

What if the shove was perhaps harder than intended, and the young woman’s shoulder was broken?

What if she was 17, but would turn 18 the next day? What if it was her 13th birthday? Does either of those possibilities change your take?

What if the shoving person was a parent? Parents are entitled to a reasonable level of respect and deference, and many in our culture assert that they have the right to demand these things from their children.

What if that person was her father? Does it being an adult man shoving a young woman change your take?

The consequences of being shoved into that wall are daily pain, diminished use of her dominant arm, and constant awareness of how much she’s used her arm and the need to be careful lest she push her shoulder and arm too far and end up not being able to do much for several days of needed rest.

Are those consequences too severe for mere words?

Why?

Did the young woman “fuck around and find out?”

Are you ok with it? Why or why not?

How many people, in our country of over 300 million, would agree with your particular calibration of the appropriate level of violence in response to words?

Which is sustainable for free people—a society where everyone’s individual sense of the appropriate level of violence in response to words has to be navigated, or one where we deal with words ourselves and leave violence to the state?

The actual situation: I was 15, and the shoving person was my father.

There are things he said that I will never forget, things that left deep psychic wounds, things I have never put in writing and have only ever repeated to my therapist. There are many other things he said that, with time and work, I can laugh at and about, and many more that I’ve forgotten because they don’t matter anymore.

Healing from many of those damaging words has come at a cost, but it was a cost worth paying and it was in fact possible, by my own choice and using my own agency (and with therapeutic help).

That healing is something that will never be possible for my shoulder.

Because words aren’t violence.

We Are Risking the State Monopoly on Violence

When someone commits a violent crime in public and suffers no consequences, we are putting at risk the state monopoly on violence. This is a grave error.

Americans are more polarized and divided than ever, and the group that owns most of the guns is also the group that it’s the most socially acceptable to mock.

Will Smith assaulted Chris Rock on live television and the defense of his assault is very telling about how fragile and fraught the state monopoly on violence has become.

We are in real peril, and the only weapon left to defend against this danger is the truth:

Words. Are. Not. Violence.