WHEN CRITICISM WITHIN MUSIC AND POLITICS BECOMES CRUELTY |

There is a certain irony to a right to a point of view, loudly, argumentatively, and not infrequently, as one might find in a pub fight. Politics and music, two of the most emotionally charged arenas for public debate, appear to provoke this kind of performative fighting. And lately, in this climate, it’s everywhere. With what’s happening in government, with Palestine, with every thread laced in injustice, emotions run high, and tempers flare faster. You say something about loving a politically outspoken musician and getting ready for said gratuitous think-piece in your mentions. You’re attacking a favourite musician for political correctness, and then suddenly you’re the joy destroyer.

We can all have our opinions, of course. That is the ground rule of any working society. Entitlement doesn’t, however, equate to insight. And doesn’t get us exempt from the necessity for thinking for oneself, listening broadly, or, goodness gracious, bringing one’s thinking up to date.

I write this as one who’s been wrung through the wringer. I’ve ranted over something I shouldn’t have ranted over. I’ve let pride masquerading as principle and gone to war over a lyric, a tweet, a hot take. There’ve been times I’ve got way too fired up defending someone or something that, honestly, I should’ve just deleted and blocked and moved on. It felt, at the moment, as though I was battling for a cause. I read back, and I was battling for myself, most of the time. And growth, blessedly, is a humbling affair. In the past few years, I’ve needed to learn to maintain my argument without feeling I need to win, to hold respect for someone else without losing face. It doesn’t always come naturally when the issue is made personal, but, yeah, in this digital age, it’s something we all need to be aware of.

Music is subjective, politics is organisational. Where the two intersect, it reveals not just our taste, but our values, our blind spots, and our loyalties to class. And that’s where things get messy. A point of view should spark discussion, but often it’s a walled citadel. Dissent gets labelled as ignorance or cruelty. And then there’s the criticism dressed up as concern, satire, or the ever-convenient “just asking questions.” Language is serious business. Things get legs. Accusations, insinuations, defamation, they don’t stay in the realm of opinion, and they carry legal weight for a reason. These days, the internet is a playground and a courtroom, with laws built to protect victims, whether they’re individuals or entire communities under fire. Just look at how KNEECAP’s unapologetic stance on Irish identity and Palestine has turned commentary into combat zones. Support them, and you’re hailed as brave. Question them, and suddenly you’re the villain. That hot take you’re typing? It might just come with a subpoena if it crosses the line.

And if we ever needed a reminder of how deeply words can wound, we only have to look at Caroline Flack. A woman torn apart by headlines, by speculation, by relentless judgment from strangers who didn’t know her story. It wasn’t just public opinion, it was public punishment, and it was everywhere. Her death wasn’t about one moment, one article, or one tweet. It was the cumulative weight of being constantly picked apart. That’s why I say language isn’t neutral. It shapes reality. And sometimes, tragically, it breaks people. When something’s before a court, leave it there. Let the facts be tested in the room built for it, not on the timeline or comment section.

This is the form that intellectually lazy thinking takes, disguised as conviction. It is easier to condemn than to talk about, easier to take a screenshot than to ask, easier by far to say someone has been “brainwashed” than to admit, perhaps, and only perhaps, you’re attached to a narrative that soothes your ego. The malice isn’t merely cruel, but fearful. It is a negation of openness, of the possibility of getting things wrong, of existing inside a nuance.

We grasp at opinions as lifelines since nuance is getting drowned out. But actual intellect, emotional, political, and cultural, is correlated with tension. Enjoying a song and criticising its politics. Loving an artist and calling them out for all their silence. Disagreement without dehumanisation.

So by all means, have your opinions. Argue for them. But when your argument requires cruelty, or when your “criticism” is just a thinly veiled attack, maybe it’s your opinion that you stand to lose. Or maybe it’s your integrity.

This article reflects personal opinion and is not intended as legal advice or commentary on any specific case.