
In the modern day, we’ve traded in throwing tomatoes at someone in the town square for typing on a keyboard, cancelling people on the internet. Many celebrities, influencers and social media users have become the subject of public scrutiny and humiliation because of offensive behaviors or comments made in the past that come to light on social media. While some cancellations justly expose criminal or problematic behavior, others can snowball into undeserved bullying. According to Merriam Webster, cancel culture is “the practice or tendency of engaging in mass canceling as a way of expressing disapproval and exerting social pressure.” However, cancel culture does not affect everyone equally. Women, especially ones without immense power, are subjected to longer, harsher, and more permanent consequences than men, who are often quickly forgiven and sometimes even celebrated.
When a male celebrity is cancelled, it’s treated as a break: a temporary pause before his inevitable comeback. There’s a familiar arc to these cancellations: an apology, a six-month disappearance, then a gentle relaunch. For example, comedian Louis C.K. admitted to sexual misconduct in 2017 and quietly returned to performing within a year, selling out shows by 2021. Kanye West, despite a string of public outbursts and antisemitic comments, continues to release music and maintain a loyal fan base. Even Johnny Depp, once cancelled after domestic abuse allegations, was celebrated with applause when he returned to the Cannes Film Festival in 2023. As sociologist Dr. Susan Carland explained in 2024 to Monash University , “if you are rich and powerful, you can choose to just say, ‘I’m not going to go anywhere. I refuse to be banished for this.’”
For women, the story rarely unfolds that way. Britney Spears’s mental health struggles in the 2000s became tabloid news, and though the #FreeBritney movement reframed her as a victim of exploitation, her every public action is still scrutinized. Janet Jackson’s 2004 Super Bowl “wardrobe malfunction” nearly ended her career, while Justin Timberlake, who caused the incident, faced little long-term damage and even continued to rise in fame. As Dr. Stephanie Wescott asserts, “there are different consequences for different people based on their identity and the amount of power they can access. The implications of cancel culture are not equally distributed.” Power doesn’t just come from wealth; it also comes from gender. Men are often granted complexity, allowed to be “flawed geniuses” or “misunderstood artists.” Women, on the other hand, are not granted the same luxury. Their mistakes are not treated as missteps but as proof of unworthiness, and even when they apologize, they are often told it isn’t enough.
Cancel culture is supposed to be about accountability; holding people in power responsible for their actions when traditional systems fail to do so. However, in practice, it often feels less like justice and more like a performance. Online outrage creates a quick, public sense of moral victory. A person says or does something offensive, the internet unites to cancel them, and for a moment, it feels like justice has been served. Social media rewards speed, not depth. The quicker someone can express outrage, the more visible and validated they become. But that rush to condemn doesn’t leave room for reflection or nuance, especially when it comes to women.
Cancel culture often says more about the people doing the canceling than the person being canceled. As writer Ayishat Akanbi points out, “it’s easier to condemn people than ideas, because if we were to condemn ideas, we would see how those ideas could affect us at one point; we would see how those ideas are embedded in structures we still defend.” Calling out individuals is simpler than unpacking the bigger systems that shape their behavior. Condemning a person feels conclusive; condemning an idea forces us to ask harder questions about ourselves and the world we live in. Akanbi also suggests that “if we stop treating talent as synonymous with character, we will be a lot less disappointed in entertainers and some of our favorite people.” Accountability shouldn’t mean permanent exile; it should make space for change. As Dr. Carland reminds us, “we have to ask ourselves, what are we doing now, all of us, that we think is great and progressive that we may be apologizing for one day?” If cancel culture continues punishing women more harshly than men, it’s worth asking whether we’re really seeking justice or just using public shaming as an extension of sexism.
