It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find places of refuge from the stridently certain politics of our era and the evangelical zeal with which they are peddled.
In a climate where all things are political, simple acts demand fealty to one tribe or another.
Standing for the national anthem at a football game, an NHL pre-game skate, or a championship team’s White House visit—each becomes an opportunity to make a statement about an alleged epidemic of police violence against Black Americans, allyship with LGBTQ+ people, or opposition to the current president.
Liberal norms have traditionally encouraged lively debate and assumed both the right to speak and the right to ignore. But when allegations of racism, fascism, transphobia, etc. are tossed around cavalierly, it becomes a moral imperative to silence “aberrant” ideas.
For those who might ask, “What about a break?” the Jacobin killjoys have a ready answer: silence is violence.
It should come as no surprise, then, that those steering the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), whose principal stock in trade ought to be entertainment, have run aground on the shoals of politics for a second consecutive year.
