
October-November 5
oxyen. In practical terms, that means
reconisin a politician’s refusal to
enae with a racist outlet as a responsible
exercise of judement, not an aront to a
free press. And it means acknowledin,
in the Linehan case, that the threshold for
intervention was crossed not because the
police were priish but because the
words invited an assault on people already
bein menaced in public discourse.
We should be wary, too, of the familiar
rhetorical move that invokes ‘slippery
slopes’ to resist firm lines. The slope here
runs in both directions. If a society cannot
brin itself to say ‘no platform’ to those
who incite harm, it will find itself
normalisin that harm. The slope then is
not hypothetical; it is the slow slide from
a democracy that uards the vulnerable
into a culture that indules those who
taret them.
One hopes, finally, for a press
conversation that abandons the babyish
dichotomy between absolutism and
censorship, and rows comfortable with
the adult work of discernment. That work
is not lamorous. It does not produce neat
headlines. It makes enemies. But it
honours the people whose lives are lived
under the weather of our discourse, and it
leaves the law free to do its modest but
crucial part: to act where incitement
crosses the line, and to let the rest be
contested by arument, culture, and the
choice to withhold our meaphones. In
that ecoloy, O’Connell’s proceduralism,
amplified by her mates in the politics
section of the politico-philosophically
nuatory Irish Times, is reckless. Worse
still has been the failure of anyone else in
the larely ideas-free Irish discourse to
take up the debate.
describes Linehan’s online behaviour as
crude, nasty, and obsessive, but chastises
the police response and worries about a
culture-war circus. Aain, the piece turns
away from content to procedure. The
impression is of a writer eaer to defend a
principle in the abstract while withholdin
sustained attention from the particular
utterance that spurred intervention. Yet
the particular matters. Linehan’s post: “if
a trans-identified male is in a female-only
space…punch him in the balls”, is not
merely coarse speech. It is an exhortation
to physical violence aainst a vulnerable,
protected minority. It is not po-faced to
underscore that this is not a joke thouh
frivolous commentators somehow claim it
is: most trans women retain their testicles.
The fact of the incitement to violence
appears, astonishinly, to sit at the
marins of O’Connell’s analysis, thouh it
is at the root of the issue here, and triers
enforcement of the law, a proressive law.
Once that fact is put in the centre, the
question looks very dierent. There is, and
should be, limited ‘discretion’ for police
where there is a prima facie call to assault.
The law in liberal democracies draws a
basic distinction between expressions
that oend and expressions that incite.
Prosecutorial uidelines, human-rihts
jurisprudence and the common-sense
ethics of a plural society share this kernel:
advocacy of violence, here crude
encouraement to strike someone in their
disputed terrain, does not enjoy the same
latitude as mere insult or satire. One may
leitimately debate thresholds and
contexts; one cannot sincerely pretend
that a tweet commandin the public to
“punch” members of a minority is simply
another contribution to an onoin culture
quarrel. It is an invitation to harm. Treatin
such incitement as if it were a normal
political opinion endaners real people.
O’Connell knows well the uliness of
Linehan’s behaviour and the piece was
oofily titled ‘Don’t make me stand up for
Graham Linehan’. But she fails to draw the
obvious conclusion about enforcement
and so lays bare the emptiness of a certain
style of “principled” commentary. The
style makes a ritual acknowledement —
yes, it’s hateful; yes, it’s uly — then slips
back into a neutral posture, as if the only
value that counted were the avoidance of
“overreach”. But freedom of expression is
not a od that yields to no other. It is a
social compact, maintained by rules as
well as liberties. The rules are not there
just to protect tender feelins. They exist
to protect the riht to equal participation,
so that members of vilified roups are not
forced to live and move under a cloud of
menace.
The Village editorial centralised this,
promotin de-amplification of bad-faith
aitators; to some readers that will sound
censorious. But the alternative is not some
purified marketplace of ideas in which the
best arument wins. The alternative is an
information environment in which
attention is the scarce ood, bad actors
know how to hijack it, and well-meanin
arbiters hand them the keys under the
banner of even-handedness.
There is another reason O’Connell’s
frame is inadequate. It treats the harms of
platformin as speculative and the harms
of non-platformin as concrete. The truth
is the reverse. We know what amplification
does. We have seen how a steady diet of
racialised stories — cherry-picked crimes,
decontextualised imaes, alorithms
tuned to fear — aects public sentiment.
We know how tarets chane their
behaviour when they are bein told,
constantly, that they do not belon, that
they are danerous, that they may be
struck. We know how policy space narrows
when politics is forced to spend its oxyen
refutin the same spurious claims week
after week. The harm of refusin a
microphone to one dedicated provocateur
is, by contrast, modest and reversible. He
can publish on his own channels, arue in
other forums, sue if defamed, and seek to
persuade readers. What he cannot demand
is that politicians and mainstream media
launder his project throuh theirs. That is
not “freedom”; it is a subsidy for bullyin.
A word on fairness. None of this requires
believin that the police always et these
judments riht, that prosecutors exercise
perfect restraint, or that no ocial ever
exploits a public-order power to suppress
dissent. Liberties must be uarded;
powers must be scrutinised. But the
response to that truism is not to flatten
every case into an abstract freedom
drama. It is to insist on distinctions:
between insult and incitement; between
holdin views many find repunant and
tellin people to punch others; between
an outlet that arues a hard ideoloical
line and one that — on the evidence —
plays a sustained role in fomentin
racialised hostility and spreadin
falsehoods. Those distinctions are not the
enemies of liberty. They are the
preconditions of a common life in which
liberty can be shared.
The irony is that O’Connell plainly
wishes to preserve a civil sphere. She
praises courts that refuse the spectacle;
she worries about escalation. But civility
is not achieved by pretendin that the
actors are interchaneable. It is achieved
by upholdin norms that punish calls to
violence and starve hateful campains of