Introduction: The Culture of Calling Out

From hashtags and social takedowns to public callouts and screenshots, cancel culture has become a defining force in the digital age. What began as a way for marginalised people to hold the powerful accountable has spiraled into a storm of controversies, careers lost, and reputations destroyed.

The term “cancel culture” implies a kind of social exile—someone says or does something problematic (whether last night or ten years ago), and the internet collectively decides: they’re done.

Cancelled. Boycotted. Silenced.

At its core, cancel culture was born from good intentions: to seek justice where institutions have failed, to amplify the silenced, and to demand consequences where there were previously none. But somewhere along the line, it became murky. The line between accountability and mob justice started to blur.

In a world full of deep inequality and historical silence, we must ask:

Is cancel culture the only tool we have left—or has it become another form of oppression in itself?

image credit: pinterest

The Power in Public Accountability

Let’s begin with what cancel culture tries to do right.

In societies where courts dismiss cases, leaders evade responsibility, and oppressors continue to thrive, public accountability becomes a form of resistance.

Movements like #MeToo and #BlackLivesMatter gained traction not through polite petitions—but through the loud, urgent exposure of harm.

In these cases, “cancelling” was never about ego or revenge. It was about visibility, naming violence, and demanding change. Survivors who had once been shamed into silence found solidarity in numbers. Harm that had once been swept under institutional rugs was finally laid bare.

Cancel culture gave the powerless a voice when no one else would listen.

But When Does It Cross the Line?

The problem with cancel culture lies not in its existence—but in its execution.

Social media is not a court of law. It doesn’t examine facts in full context. It doesn’t weigh intention, allow a proper defence, or prioritise healing. It amplifies outrage and rewards spectacle.

In many cases, people are “cancelled” not for systemic abuse, but for:

Tweets from adolescence

Poorly phrased jokes

Opinions that deviate from the popular discourse

Guilt by association

There’s often no path to redemption—just exile.

One screenshot becomes a life sentence.

Accountability is supposed to be about justice—not destruction.

image credit: pinterest

Accountability vs. Bullying

To understand the difference between accountability and bullying, we need to define what each looks like:

Accountability:

• Identifies the harm

• Allows the individual space to understand, reflect, and respond

• Focuses on change, growth, and repair

• Centers the harmed—not the mob

  Bullying:

• Is loud and relentless

• Demands punishment without process

• Shames rather than educates

• Often becomes more about performative morality than genuine justice

Accountability gives room for growth. Bullying makes sure you never grow again.

The Role of Social Media

Social media is both the judge and the executioner.

It compresses complex stories into character counts. It removes tone and context. And because it thrives on engagement, the more emotional or outraged a post, the more visibility it gains.

This creates a space where:

People compete to be the most “woke”

Call-outs become content

Morality is gamified

People become more interested in being right publicly than in doing right privately.

On the internet, justice often takes the shape of humiliation—not healing.

Who Gets Cancelled—and Who Doesn’t

An ugly truth: not everyone is cancelled equally.

Public figures with wealth, influence, or power often rebound from cancellation. They issue PR statements, lie low for a while, and return with new deals. In some cases, cancellation even increases their popularity among “anti-woke” audiences.

Meanwhile, marginalised voices—Black women, activists, or small creators—can be obliterated for far less.

They lack the resources to bounce back. Their careers end. Their mental health deteriorates. They face death threats, doxxing, and depression.

Cancel culture claims to protect the marginalised, but too often it crushes them.

The Case for a Better Approach

Cancel culture could be reimagined as something more meaningful. Something rooted in restorative justice, not digital rage.

Let’s consider these alternatives:

1. Call-In Culture

Instead of public exposure, this approach encourages private, compassionate conversations—especially when the harm caused was due to ignorance rather than malice.

It’s not about shielding abusers. It’s about knowing when a quiet correction does more good than a public takedown.

2. Restorative Accountability

This approach asks:

What harm was done?

What needs to happen to make it right?

How can we ensure this doesn’t happen again?

It gives both the harmed and the responsible a seat at the table. It focuses on repair, not revenge.

3. Growth-Based Activism

This involves:

Allowing people to learn publicly

Accepting genuine apologies

Tracking how someone changes over time—not just what they did in a moment

We must believe that people can change. Otherwise, what’s the point of calling them in at all?

The Psychology Behind the Mob

Why does cancelling feel so good to some people?

Because it gives a sense of moral superiority.

Because it feeds the ego.

Because it's easier to judge someone else than to reflect on our own biases.

But it’s important to ask:

Am I holding this person accountable, or am I feeding my own righteousness?

Am I creating space for change, or just punishing someone I disagree with?

We must not confuse outrage with action—or shame with justice.

Real-World Impact: What Happens After “Cancelled”?

Some people truly deserve to lose platforms—especially if they are:

Unrepentant

Repeatedly abusive

Dangerous to others

But what about those who:

Apologise sincerely?

Educate themselves?

Take real steps to change?

If we cancel everyone, we risk discouraging accountability altogether. Why apologise if you’ll never be forgiven? Why change if you're already labelled?

The goal shouldn’t be to cancel. It should be to course-correct.

Conclusion: Evolve the Culture, Don’t Erase It

So, is cancel culture accountability or public bullying?

The answer: It can be either.

When used responsibly, it shines a light on harm, centres victims, and demands change.

When abused, it becomes digital bloodsport—a form of groupthink, weaponised outrage, and endless cycles of shame.

We must return to the why behind accountability:

To stop cycles of harm

To build better communities

To hold power in check

To invite learning, not just loss

We can no longer afford to throw people away.

We need a justice that builds, not just burns.

Final Words

We are all human. We are all flawed. And if the internet has taught us anything, it’s that everyone’s mistake will eventually come to light.

So when it does, how will we respond?

With punishment—or with possibility?

With erasure—or with evolution?

Let’s not cancel the idea of accountability.

Let’s just make it kinder, deeper, and better.

Let’s not cancel the idea of accountability.

Let’s just make it kinder, deeper, and better.