Year: 2015

On January 7, 2015, the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo made international headlines after two gunmen entered its office in Paris and proceeded to kill eight journalists. The attack sparked a three-day manhunt in Paris that culminated in the deaths of the two gunmen, brothers Said and Cherif Kouachi.  The brothers, who had links to the Yemen branch of Al Qaeda, had targeted Charlie Hebdo because of its portrayal of Islam, generally, and Muhammad, specifically, in both articles and cartoons.

The act of terror,  heralded by journalists as the worst attack in France in forty years, familiarized millions of outsiders with the name Charlie Hebdo. Within days, the cry “Je suis Charlie” (“I am Charlie”) had filled social media, as foreigners adopted the phrase to show their support for free speech.

Here, however, it seems important to make a distinction between the two issues at hand: terrorism and free speech. The attack on Charlie Hebdo, undoubtedly an act of terror, cannot be justified, and France is right to take the necessary actions to bring the perpetrators to justice and prevent further attacks.

But the issue of free speech isn’t as straightforward. Although most Westerners view freedom of speech as a paramount value, in this instance one wonders how many people know exactly what kind of free speech they are supporting. After all, familiarity with the title of a publication doesn’t necessarily signify familiarity with its content. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of the people who jumped on the bandwagon of free speech would stop short of supporting some of Charlie Hebdo’s publications.

In light of the American tendency to pay at least verbal homage to tolerance, Charlie Hebdo is a bit of an anomaly. Its reputation for lambasting Islam, Christianity and Judaism and for publishing articles and cartoons intended to cause offense to adherents of these three world religions certainly hasn’t gone unnoticed. (In fact, major American and British newspapers have refused to republish some of Charlie Hebdo’s content – though whether this stems from scruples about decency or from fear of inviting attacks similar to the one in Paris is unclear.) That is why I hesitate to ally myself with the cry for free speech in this particular instance.

Like most Westerners, I view freedom of speech as an important value. But I also believe that there are values more important than this – values such as, say, decency, respect, and truthfulness in publishing. In other words, I think it’s perfectly acceptable to distinguish between free speech and responsible speech. In an ideal world, the two would go hand-in-hand. But Charlie Hebdo serves as a reminder that we don’t live in an ideal world. Here free speech can be both irresponsible and insensitive. It can be used, as Charlie Hebdo uses it, to publish inflammatory content purposefully designed to anger and offend certain groups.  Over the last several days, Charlie Hebdo’s content has elicited not a few articles distinguishing between free and responsible speech.  And given some of the magazine’s tasteless – may we even go so far as to describe the content as crass? – publications, I’d say that that is a fair distinction to make.

Before I’m accused of looking at Charlie Hebdo through the biased lens of toleration, I will point out that the issues surrounding some of its content have already evoked responses in its defense. One French citizen, in particular, asserts, “Even if their sense of humour was apparently inacceptable to English minds . . . it fell well within the French tradition of satire – and after all was only intended for a French audience.” The likes of Rousseau and Voltaire did come out of France, so I guess this shouldn’t come as a surprise. When, however, did cultural practice become the litmus test for basic decency?

In the upcoming weeks, people of vastly different religious beliefs will be working through the two issues surrounding Charlie Hebdo, and as they do so, I think that it is perfectly appropriate to distinguish between supporting France’s fight against terrorism and supporting Charlie Hebdo’s inflammatory content.

Many of you may have watched the Oscar-winning film Her last year and if you didn’t, then you should.  The way our world is progressing this film may as well be a true story: a man falls in love with his phone’s operating system.

According to 2013 Apple consumer reports, more than 120 million smartphones were sold in the U.S. alone that year. It is painfully evident that our culture has experienced drastic technological advances particularly in just the last couple decades. The rise of the Internet age and information at the click of a button has been fast progressing.  Our millennial generation may be marked as living in what the cultural critic, Alan Kirby, has named the digimodern world: a paradigm shift from the actual to the virtual has taken place. Instead of human interaction, a person now interacts with a screen.

Most likely, the “shock and awe” statistic posited above unfortunately neither shocked nor awed the reader of this article.  That is part of the problem. People must realize that the world we live in today is even staggeringly different than it was just a few years ago. My experience in the social world is already vastly different than it was my first year year of college.

Apple released their first smartphone in 2007, yet last year was the first time that I began to see a smartphone each direction I looked.  Right now is probably the part where I should stop and confess that I, myself, do own a smartphone and yes, I like you, am glad of the convenience which it provides.  However, there is a stark difference between convenience and reliance.  Our world is far too reliant on the phone.

Last semester I studied off-campus through the college program, The Oregon Extension (side note- I highly recommend it).  During this off-campus experience my peers and I lived in a remote community of students and professors in the mountains of Oregon: an ideal place for reflective thoughts and intentional communal living. During the semester all phones were taken away from Monday morning until Friday night and Internet was seldom available besides on the weekends.  For some readers this situation may sound like your worst nightmare, yet for others, such as myself, this may sound like a dream come true: four months without the daily infringement of phone and Internet.

Now that I am back to normal campus life, culture shock strikes me multiple times a day. Suddenly, it seems that every person has an extra limb- the smartphone. The smartphone is now an added conversation tool at each and every turn.  People- whether close friends or new acquaintances- seem incapable of conversation without this intrusive device.  Silence is awkward now.  Giving someone your full attention is a rarity at best.  The constant ring, bing, hum, or buzz adds its voice to every conversation and honestly I have had enough.  Notice the it of the last sentence? The phone is not a person and therefore should not be treated as such. I do not condemn the smartphone’s essential usefulness, but I condemn the smartphone as citizen.

As I transition back to this campus culture engrossed in a digimodern age, I plan to resist a few cultural norms so prevalent in daily life. Unlike many peers, when at a meal my phone will not take precedence over a person.  If on occasion I must be in contact with another I will graciously apologize as I interrupt discussion.

I have not been too hard on our culture.  I have not been too hard on our millennial generation.  Each person, young or old, should be attentive to the ‘really real’ tangible relationships in front of us.  Our present day and age posits an absurd paradox: it is easier to communicate with others at a distance, but it is harder to communicate with relationships in proximity. Pay attention to the really real, live an authentic life, and silence the phone.