Category Archives: Fandom

Acceptance Speech Online! And Other Post-Hugo Neepery

What a long, strange trip it’s been,my friends.

I’ve spent the past five days in the gorgeous wilderness of southern Oregon with my good friend Chris Crawford and his wife Kathy, catching up on my rest, hiking, and working on the next two books in my WAVE series (as M. J. Locke! Coming soon! Well, OK; in a year or three). Before much more time passed, I wanted to respond to the people who requested the video or a transcript of my speech.

The 2015 Hugo Awards are now online, in four parts. My award and acceptance starts at 2:20:40, near the end of Part 2.

Screen Shot 2016-02-20 at 11.38.01 AM

Here is the transcript:

Tonight, I honor Rochita Loenen-Ruiz, Tricia Sullivan, Athena Andreadis, Rachel Manija Brown, Kari Sperring, Liz Williams, Hesychasm, Cindy Pon, and the many others targeted for abuse, whose experiences I documented in my report last fall. They’re great writers and bloggers—read their works!

Thanks go to those who stood up for them: Tade Thompson, Victor Fernando R. Ocampo, Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden, Pat Cadigan, Sherwood Smith, and Nalo Hopkinson. Read their works too!

Thanks also to those who helped me with my research behind the scenes. You know who you are, and we wouldn’t be here with you, either. Thanks to George RR Martin, who boosted me for this award, and to all who voted for me.

I wrote my report out of love for this community. Out of a rejection of abusive behavior and the language of hate. There’s room for all of us here. But there is no middle ground between “we belong here” and “no you don’t,” which is what I hear when people disrespect members of our community. I believe we must find non-toxic ways to discuss our conflicting points of view. I plan to keep working toward that, in ways true to my own values and lived experiences. And I hope you all will, too. Science fiction and fantasy literature is our common bond and our common legacy. It belongs to all of us. Those who deny that do great harm.

I see our conflict as a reflection of a much larger societal struggle, as Robert Silverberg referred to, and I stand with people from marginalized groups who seek simply to be seen as fully human. Black lives matter. Thank you.

This past year has been brutal, for so many of us. In a conversation recently, a friend asked me what my primary communities of identity were, and at the question I felt a great upwelling of grief. The two communities I love most have been so fraught. It feels awful to be at odds with those with whom I have so much else in common. My fellow progressives and I have been beleaguered and under assault, simply because we are (as the Puppies’ actions have made very clear) the Wrong Sorts of People, and I put the progressive community under further strain with my report. It was absolutely necessary. But it wasn’t fun.

After such a painful journey, the Hugo awards came as a big validation. SFF fandom Gets It. They delivered a clear message. What the Puppies did was wrong. Their ballot-stuffing effort was an act of contempt, pure and simple. They tried to brand everyone who disagreed with them as this absurd caricature of progressive thought, creating a false binary out of a large, politically and demographically diverse group of people.

Conservatism isn’t intrinsically racist or sexist or other-ist. At its heart, the conservative belief system rests on a desire for stability and the preservation of one’s heritage. And there are many things I want to preserve about our SFF legacy. But when the status quo is infused with unfair power differentials—enforced through unexamined biases, prejudice, and stereotyping of people whose reality they don’t see—then those aspects of the status quo must go.

The science is clear, and it backs up the claims of social-justice advocates. White supremacy, patriarchy, and ableism are real, as are other forms of prejudice, and those attitudes are deeply destructive to equality, democracy, and fair play. The farther away you get on the Venn diagram from the white, male, straight, cis-gendered, slender, and physically or mentally able/ normative identities, the tougher you have it. These cultural biases, burned deep into our psyches, with all their various manifestations across the world, have done great harm to many, many people.

(And if you truly believe you have no biases, and don’t believe all this social-justice crap, then I challenge you to take the Harvard Implicit Association Test for yourself. See how you fare, in association tests of gender, sexuality, race, size, age, and other metrics.)

(Further reading: [1] | [2] | [3] | [4][5] | [6] | [7] | [8] | [9] | [10][11] )

Those who voted for me stood up also against weaponizing social-justice concepts and using them for personal gain. I was deeply grateful—particularly when those votes came from the progressive community, because it came at a personal cost, surrounded as we are by those who deny the truth of our claims of bias that harms us, some of whom have tried to use my report to deny that reality.

And frankly, anger belongs in the cause of social justice; yes: anger is an appropriate response to abuse. Resistance; yes. Civil disobedience. Without these, we wouldn’t live in a world in which women have the vote. I am a feminist out of deep gratitude for the women who fought to enfranchise us. I support Black Lives Matter, because parents shouldn’t have to worry that their kids are going to be killed when they go to the corner store for Skittles, or get slammed to the pavement with a knee in the back for going swimming. People shouldn’t have to worry about being arrested (and later found dead) for changing lanes while black.

Protest has brought important and necessary change around the world. To foster change, we must make people uncomfortable. Confronting one’s biases doesn’t happen without a good, long look in the mirror. And it isn’t fair, because those who enforce the status quo don’t need to make anyone uncomfortable, or challenge their biases—whereas those of us trying to effect change do. And so, simply by trying to point out these biases, we often get cast as bad guys, as caricatures of who we really are. It sucks, to be offered the choice between accepting our chains by pretending they aren’t there, to avoid making others uncomfortable, or to be seen as disruptive—as monstrous—for pointing them out.

A kind of despair can set in. A voice in the back of our minds tells us if we must be cast as monsters, so be it: since we can’t have justice, we might as well tear the walls of the world down. But the price of following that path is too high. At best, we end up simply swapping out the people at the top of the oppression pyramid; at worst, we end up amid smoking ruin. I want to find another path. One in which we tell truths that must be told, with room for people to have a change of heart. To learn and grow.

The fact is, it’s not any one person’s fault that these oppressive structures we inhabit exist, and no one person can solve it alone, no matter how much individual privilege we have. The biases and prejudices we hold and their impacts are a tragedy-of-the-commons problem, and therefore the solution must be a collective one. We must act together. We must build coalitions across our intersectional divides. We must settle on fair community norms. And the global SFF community is well-positioned in this effort. Storytelling—especially science fiction and fantasy literature—is all about imagining the improbable. And studies show that people who read fiction for pleasure have, by and large, higher social intelligence and greater capacity for empathy than others. Reading teaches us to care about others, no matter how different their appearances and customs may be from our own.

I have hope that we can learn to overcome our biases. The Hugo outcomes themselves spoke volumes to me, but there was more. One friend of mine, for instance, attended the Writing Diverse Characters panel. Later she told me that it was standing-room-only. And it was not merely women, people of color, LGBTQI people, and other marginalized groups, who might be expected to attend out of personal interest, but also many, many men, from the young to the old. The room was brimming with nerdy, whiskered white guys who were there not to argue or mansplain or whitesplain, but simply to listen and learn. Some might not understand or agree with all the concepts of social justice; some might not know the language we have developed through years of study and dialogue or know where they’re tripping up when they do… but they’re open-minded. Curious. Willing to explore. Those are my people, too.

In the end, we don’t win this struggle with hate. We win it with curiosity, joy, honesty, persistence, resistance, and love.

#RequiresLove (h/t Nalo)

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I stand with Irene Gallo, and I stand with Tor

I was deeply distressed to learn of the Rabid Puppies’ campaign against Irene Gallo, and the fact that they’re now calling for Tor to fire her. I’ve sent a letter to Tom Doherty. Here is a copy.

Dear Tom Doherty,

First, Tom, I want to extend warm greetings and sympathy to everyone at Tor, for the difficulties that you all have had to contend with over the past couple of weeks. I am sure the situation has created a huge strain on everyone there.

I am writing to you because I woke up Monday morning to discover to my dismay that Theodore Beale, a/k/a/ “Vox Day,” called for his Rabid Puppy supporters to write Tor and Macmillan, en masse, and demand that you fire Irene Gallo for her remarks on her personal FaceBook page on May 11. I’m writing to ask you to resist their demands for further reprisals against her. I stand with Irene.

My apologies in advance for the length of my letter, and for the unpleasantness of the content I’ve excerpted and linked to. I feel it’s important for me to provide context to help show where I’m coming from with all this.

Beale has been pursuing a personal grudge against several people, including Tor author John Scalzi and the Nielsen Haydens, for years. The reason he has targeted them is that they have stood up for those who have been bullied and harassed by Beale and his supporters.

Beale was booted out of our professional trade organization, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), in 2013, after using official SFWA channels to promote a series of deeply offensive, blatantly racist remarks against SFF writer and SFWA member N. K. Jemisin. He has a long history of horrific reactionary public statements, not only against people of color, immigrants, and non-Christians (including citing Norwegian mass murderer Anders Breivik, who gunned down 77 people, mostly teens, as a national hero for his acts, and suggesting that we look to Hitler to solve our immigration problems [he has since deleted the offending paragraph from his article, but the original pro-Nazi text appears here]). His views on women (“a few acid-burned faces is a small price to pay for lasting marriages,” “[A] purely empirical perspective on Malala Yousafzai, the poster girl for global female education, may indicate that the Taliban’s attempt to silence her was perfectly rational and scientifically justifiable”) and gays (“Correcting the gay defect;” “How ‘gay marriage’ harms you”) are equally repugnant.

The National Criminal Justice Reference System, a federally-funded organization that provides justice-related information to support worldwide research, policy, and program development efforts, defines hate speech as “the use of speech attacks based on race, ethnicity, religion, gender, and sexual orientation.” There can be no doubt that Beale’s public statements fall into this category. His actions and words have gone far beyond the bounds of reasonable political dissent.

Bullies and abusers rely on the larger community’s desire for comity—our willingness to live and let live—to impose their will and silence dissent. In such a case, it’s incumbent on people with standing in the community to speak up against them, providing a counterweight to their destructive ideas. By speaking when she did, in my view, Irene was doing what other thought leaders in our field like N. K. Jemisin, John Scalzi, and the Nielsen Haydens have done: guarding the health and well-being of our SFF community by standing up against hate speech.

Some feel the stark terms Irene applied to the Sad and Rabid Puppies movements in her FaceBook post—racist, misogynist, homophobic, neo-nazi—were too harsh and too broadly applied. That she spoke out of turn and had no business criticizing the Sad and Rabid Puppies campaign while promoting a Tor book. They protest that their views are not extreme, and using such terms unfairly maligns them, by lumping them in with someone they don’t support. Some members of the Sad and Rabid Puppy campaigns have indeed distanced themselves from Beale, and perhaps they were initially unaware of just how extreme his views were. 

I believe that communities can grow and change. People can learn; viewpoints can shift. I have a seed of hope that someday, through continued dialog and education, we can find a way through this and mend some of the rifts that this conflict has exposed. 

But there is no getting around the fact that a misogynistic, homophobic white supremacist, who has spoken approvingly of shootings and acid attacks on women, and of Hitler and the Holocaust, who has called a respected SFF scholar and popular writer an ignorant, “not equally human” savage, stands at the heart of this conflict. Beale’s followers and fellow travelers may not themselves hold all the bigoted views he does, but information on who he is and how he feels about women, people of color, LGBTQ people, and others has been widely shared by now. If people are emailing you calling for Irene to be fired, they are unavoidably supporting Beale’s hate-filled agenda.

In short, the campaign they are pursuing against Irene, the Neilsen Haydens—and in fact, against Tor itself—has a deep taproot in values not reflective of a tolerant and diverse society. Those of us speaking up against this campaign are doing so not because we want a fight, but because if we stay silent, the deeply offensive views of a destructive individual will be further elevated, driving away many, many people from our field.

It boils down to this. There was truth in Irene’s words. It took courage for her to say something. She has my respect.

For me, this is not a matter of politics. I took a public stand last fall against Requires Hate, a serious cyber-bully on the left. This is about standards of discourse. It’s only a noisy and obnoxious few who insist on making trouble. Our broader SFF community recognizes that we can have political disagreements—even heated ones—without resorting to hateful, dehumanizing rhetoric, threats, and social-media shaming campaigns against people whose views we dislike. In fact, for the continued health and well-being of our field, I believe we must.

Now that Irene has apologized for any confusion or upset that her remarks may have caused among well-intentioned Puppy supporters, and now that you have publicly clarified Tor’s position and your reasonable desire to continue as you have been, grounded in your company’s commercial mission to provide SFF readers with a wide and enjoyable range of good fiction across multiple political and other perspectives, both Irene and Tor have amply satisfied their professional obligations to your customers and the community at large. I believe that neither you, Irene, the Nielsen Haydens, nor anyone else at Tor or Macmillan, has a further obligation to respond to the demands of Theodore Beale, John C. Wright, or their supporters.

I want to support Tor and Irene publicly as well as privately, and will be posting a copy of this letter on my blog,

In closing, I am proud to call myself a Tor author, I’m deeply sorry that your company has been targeted like this, and I wish you all the best. 



My letter says just about everything I feel the need to say about the matter. But in case it isn’t clear, I am opposed to boycotts of Tor’s books. Tor is also a target in this campaign, and I’m not interested in giving Beale what he wants.

Yes, I believe Beale’s targeting Irene was part-and-parcel with his own misogynistic views, but I believe Tom’s intent was to be even-handed. I know him to be a community-minded man who is deeply loyal to his staff and his authors.

I stand with Irene Gallo, with Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden, and I also stand with Tor.


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Double Vision: Our Conflicting Nerdish Legacies

“At its best, activism is not merely opposition to what is, it is also constructive of what will be.”

—Katherine Cross, Words, Words, Words: On Toxicity and Abuse in Online Activism, 2014.


Stained glass bird designI’ve heard from a couple of people regarding my “Yes, But” post, which addressed criticisms of my report on Requires Hate/ Benjanun Sriduangkaew/ Winterfox last fall.

They’ve told me I missed the point of the objections people have raised to my Hugo nomination, due to the support of people from the wrong side of RaceFail. I’m grateful to them for opening their hearts to speak to me. Talking about all this can be very stressful.

I wasn’t around for RaceFail, and I have consistently underestimated the trauma caused by that rift. People have told me that they were “RaceFail babies” who entered the field around that time, and that the blowup shaped their entire perception of the field. To paraphrase something Rochita Loenen-Ruiz[1] has said to me, RaceFail has cast a long and deep shadow over SFF. Little trust or hope has been able to grow in its shadow, between many people of color and many in the white community.

RaceFail and other –Fails have become embedded in our history. They’re a deeply rooted, painful part of our SFF legacy. And perhaps we can’t heal those rifts right now. Perhaps some of those scars will never fully heal. What I am hoping for is that we can grow new connective tissue beginning in the here and now. New bridges to healing the rifts between us… recognizing that all of this will take time.

In the meantime, to be honest, what I’m looking for is not an award—as cool as Hugos are! If people feel in good conscience that they can’t vote for me, I respect that. What I am seeking is discussion—and I hope some eventual rough consensus—around a few key concepts.

Here is what I believe.

On discourse:

  • Threats of harm, stalking, blackmail, and other acts of bullying—online or off—are out of bounds, no matter who does it, nor to whom. This I consider a moral imperative. What Requires Hate did was wrong.
  • It’s equally important that we not use her actions, or activist critiques of toxic online activism, as an excuse to ignore the problems of inequity that remain in our communities, nor allow ourselves to be manipulated as social-justice clickbait. Activists put their hearts and bodies on the line, every day, to fight for equality and justice for marginalized peoples and ecosystems. We wouldn’t have open and democratic societies, worker and environmental and indigenous population protections, nor civil rights, nor the seeds of marriage equality, without their sacrifices.
  • No one view or voice can reflect the huge variety of opinions and feelings on any important topic. And no one person or group can be the sole or final arbiter of opinion. Discussion by many viewpoints is needed, from across the spectrum: center, margins, all around.
  • Criticism—while it can make us uncomfortable—is not harassment. It’s one of the few means of redress for people whose voices have been silenced.
  • People need to be able to express themselves without fear of retribution or harm. That’s why it’s so important that—while not denying our own truths—we take care with each other, and show each other kindness, as we process this. Otherwise, we end up in a downward spiral of pain and tit-for-tat abuse that creates the frozen, blasted wasteland of a hostile status quo.

On our SFF heritage:

  • Nerd culture, at its best, is all about belonging and welcoming—about excluded others finding a community of fellow travelers with a shared passion. For us in SFF, we celebrate stories centering the strange, the wondrous, the weird, the fantastic.
  • Our SFF history is rich and complex, with many works and traditions we treasure, contributed by writers and fans we hold dear. It’s not a perfect legacy; it’s not without its flaws. But it’s still precious. That heritage belongs to us all.
  • Whether intentionally or not, some works and words by writers who have shaped our legacy, and some of our community’s fannish spaces and practices, have harmed people of marginalized status, such as women, non-white people, non-straight/non-binary/transgendered people, people with mental or physical differences or disabilities, and/or those from non-Anglophone and/or non-Western countries. That harm can be invisible to people not belonging to those groups, and it can be devastating. The pain of finding ourselves further marginalized—misrepresented, maligned, or erased—within a nerdish community that belongs to us, too, is almost indescribable.
  • For those near the center of the field, it can cut deep when people criticize elements of the field’s core: the writers, voices, and fannish traditions that form our SFF legacy. This is not just venality or selfishness. Many near the center are at there precisely because they have spent their life toiling on that legacy, building it from scratch, and have often devoted years of their lives and buckets of sweat and heart’s blood to make it what it is. It’s understandable that they cherish what they’ve built, and want to protect it.
  • It can be hard for us to hear our friends and idols criticized. They are and have been mentors; their words and actions have comforted and succored us in our own time of need. This is true on all sides of the debate.
  • For all of us, sharp words can take us back to those times we were isolated in our pasts—shamed and excluded by non-nerds for our weird passions and ideas.
  • These complex and contradictory truths force a kind of double vision on us all. A cognitive dissonance. They form the heart of the conflict we need to bring into focus to resolve.
  • If we can find ways to hear each other and see each other’s visions of what might be, we can harmonize that fractured vision into a mosaic.

Summing it up:

  • Times change. Awareness grows. Challenging with a clear eye the attitudes and structures in our SFF legacy that have harmed people or outgrown their usefulness will renew our community. Resolving these conflicts will help keep SFF vital, relevant, and flourishing well into the 21st century.
  • I believe in us, as a nerdish community of storytellers and story-lovers. We are smart and resilient. I believe we can find a path, and come to a new understanding and sustained appreciation of our SFF history. We can find enough rooms in our house for all people of good will to belong as equal beneficiaries of our SFF legacy.

Building the foundations of trust, stone by stone, can be an important part of resolving some of these conflicts. We can pitch in to grow new, more inclusive communities and paths to publication. There have already been many terrific efforts along these lines, by many people. Check out the numerous diverse/ diversity-in-SFF hashtags on Twitter, as well as the Women/ Queers/ Et al.-Destroy-SFF anthologies, and The Other Half of the Sky.

Looking ahead, I know Rochita is working with some folks on ideas that will expand access and inclusion for and by people from marginalized communities, and I plan to wholeheartedly support those efforts. I hope you will, too. I’m noodling around with one or two possibilities, myself, that I think might intrigue people, once they’re ready to go public. More on that soon.

Si, se puede.


[1] Who has been a fucking hero in all this and deserves her own Hugo nomination for her passion, patience, courage, and voice.

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Yes. But.

At the risk of yes-butting people over my report on Requires Hate/ Benjanun Sriduangkaew/ Winterfox, I want to respond to a few points that have been made in recent posts or in their comment threads regarding my Hugo nomination.

Kate Nepveu:   Yes, but (1) my statistics were poorly supported or cited, and (2) the wrong people commented on and/or supported my efforts.

Abigail Nussbaum:  Yes, but (3) perverse pie charts! plus (2) the wrong people commented on and/or supported my efforts.

Shaun Duke:   Yes, but (4) Requires Hate has stopped her abuses, apologized, and deserves forgiveness. [UPDATE: while I was adding links to this post in preparation for uploading it, I saw that Shaun Duke has apologized. I’m leaving my response to point #4 up, because I have heard others raising the same point, and I want my position to be clear.]

Geoff Ryman:   Yes, but (5) racism! The Sad Puppy/ Rabid Puppy attack on the Hugos is a much bigger problem than Requires Hate.

(1) About the reason and basis for my statistics.

I went for a statistical approach, rather than an anecdotal one, for two primary reasons.

  • I sought a way to show what was going on with clarity. Without the details, people couldn’t understand exactly how serious the problem was. But dragging the specifics of what had happened in individual cases into the main body of the report held the risk of re-traumatizing and humiliating the targets. I wanted to find a way that preserved a certain amount of dignity for the people who had been targeted.
  • Using statistics made it clear that Requires Hate’s “punching up” rhetoric aside, the majority of those harmed were vulnerable or marginalized in some fashion (though to be clear, the abuse she heaped on her targets was wrong, no matter who they were).

Here are some facts regarding the basis of my statistics:

  • Four-fifths of the targets I used for my analysis, or 24 out of 30, were named.
  • For 23 of the targets whose attacks I documented, or more than three-fourths, I had at least two independent sources of documentation. For most, I had more, despite RH’s attempts to scrub the evidence[1].
  • Regarding the 6 anonymous targets, the use of confidential sources is standard practice in investigative journalism. For these, there was one documented source for five, and two sources for the other.
  • Appendix A was clear and transparent with regard to which targets’ attacks I had multiple confirmed sources for, and which I did not.
  • I didn’t publish all my documentation but I published a significant amount of it, via links and screencaps—most of what wasn’t confidential in order to protect people who provided personal emails and/or asked to remain anonymous. The links are in Appendix B. (Some of these links have been subsequently scrubbed by Requires Hate, which as E. P. Beaumont has pointed out, is in itself a huge red flag).
  • I saw criticism regarding the target sample size. Performing a statistical analysis on a sampling of a population is a standard method. (It’s not uncommon in auditing to use a 5-10% sample size, for example.) There are drug trials with fewer people in them that appear in peer-reviewed science journals all the time.
  • I saw criticism about what I counted as abusive behavior. I recognize that others may draw different boundaries than I did on certain kinds of incidents. A reasonable person might look at a single incident, or even a single kind of incident, and conclude that, while they might not like it, it doesn’t rise to the level of abuse that deserved someone like me writing a report about it. This argument misses the point. While some of the actions may not have risen to the level of severity as others, they contributed to a larger pattern of destructive behavior.
  • The only reason there were 30 targets rather than, say, 45 or more, and that a handful of them lack a second source, is that several people were under attack continuously during my research, and were in a great deal of anguish. Those supporting me insisted my report had to be done within a few weeks—or at most, a month, to effectively protect the community. To fully research her prior actions, fully document, and report on them would have been a multi-month project, as she left a long and wide swath. And I doubt whether Requires Hate or her supporters would have been more persuaded by it or grateful to me for going to that extra effort.

Before moving on…are people seriously arguing that whether Requires Hate is a serial abuser rests on the question of whether, e.g., she abused 23 people rather than 30, or 45; whether non-white targets were 40% or only 30% of her target population; or whether abuse should be defined as threatening people with explicit murder, rape, or maiming threats, versus mounting extended shunning campaigns, efforts to suppress publication of their works, and stalking or blackmailing them? Really?

(3) About the data presentation choices I made.

I admit I got a chuckle out of the fact that Abigail Nussbaum found my pie charts perverse. I’m not quite sure what that means. Info management graphics like pie and bar charts, being much easier to read than tables of data, are a standard way of presenting statistical data. Did she take issue with my statistical choices? In which case, see my response #1 above. If not, are statistics used to report on, for instance, disproportionate incarceration and early death of black men in the US and its horrendous impacts on black families—or on the disproportionate and unjust effects of climate change—also perverse? Or was it that she didn’t like what the pie charts were saying?

(2) and (4) Regarding those who supported me, their impact on the report, and forgiveness for Requires Hate

I addressed my feelings about Requires Hate’s apologies, her continued abuses, and forgiveness and redemption back in February, in my follow-up report. As I’ve said before, I have no desire to see her receive the same treatment she’s meted out for so long; not from GamerGaters, Vox Day, PuppyGaters, her own stalkers, nor anyone else. No one deserves that kind of treatment. I don’t call for her to be blackballed. I believe individual editors and publishers have a right to make their own decisions to publish whom they choose.

The truth is that I would like to see Requires Hate find her way back into the community, somehow—as long as she can let go of her need to, e.g., call for people’s death, genocide, dismemberment, or acid maiming, and begin making real amends. And despite her protestations, I’m still getting reports of further attacks. I’ll post a followup on these with more details shortly. Furthermore, those under blackmail threat remain so, until she explicitly and publicly agrees not to act on her threats toward them.

She is a grown adult and has been for years. There is a fundamental unfairness in the notion that her rehabilitation should take precedence over the many who have played by the rules, and were brutally harassed and attacked by her. Forgiveness can’t be demanded by the abuser (nor her supporters). It can only be granted by the people she’s harmed.

As for the people who supported me while I was working on the report or who commented on it, a couple of points.

First, while the words and analysis were mine, my report was the point of a wide wedge. It was the result of a major, nearly-six-week-long effort and I was supported by dozens of people. Those I named in my acknowledgments post were only a subset of those who helped me investigate, gave me editorial feedback, and put out the word to make the SFF community aware of what was happening. I respect those who felt they needed to stay in the background—they had good reasons. But it took real courage to publicly cosign my efforts. I honor those who did.

In her comment on Abigail’s post, Rachel Manija Brown made another important point. SFF is a small world. There will always be people you dislike commenting on any high-profile issue. If your support for the targets of abuse is determined by whether or not you approve of their other supporters, this conflates the individual targets with the sum total of everyone who has commented on a current event. This is cruel and unfair to the actual victims. It’s erasing real people for the sake of old feuds they weren’t even involved in.

In the final analysis, I felt that this was a time when we needed to set aside our disagreements and political arguments, and come together as a community to support people who were in real pain.

Friends of mine in the community of color have spoken to me before about how much more heavily a white person’s words can fall, when they speak angrily or disrespectfully to a person of color. In Rochita Loenen-Ruiz’s case, she was specifically referring to what happened to her with Requires Hate’s white defenders, who used some harsh words with her. I have heard some similar words from other people of color who were targeted by or stood up to Requires Hate. But I know that it applies in any conflict.

This article by writer Lo Kwa Mei-en on how silencing works on immigrant women of color is just lacerating, and it reminds me of exactly where the rage can come from, in an argument, which to someone like me might seem as if it comes from “nowhere.” SFF writer Saladin Ahmed recently described on Twitter how he got racially profiled on a recent domestic US plane trip ([1] | [2][3]). Tobias Buckell talked recently about how he has never felt safe in SFF conventions and fandom, due to his race. A lifetime of these kinds of incidents, large and small, can pile up on a person; I know this from my own experiences as a woman in a technical field. They become an invisible added burden people must carry around.

This added weight that lies on the shoulders of people in a power-down social position calls all of us in any power-up community to take an extra moment to consider the impact of our words, when we’re in a dispute.

I have heard the criticisms of my report by people including not just Kate Nepveu, but also Tessa Kum and Jaymee Goh, of Djibril al-Ayad, FanGirlJeanne, and Tempest Bradford, among others. I acknowledge that my being white does make a difference—that it is essentially impossible for me to talk about this topic without that racial power dynamic and potential for bias echoing between us—whether or not that’s my desire or intent. I disagree with some of the things they’ve said, but I want to stress that their voices matter.

And of course, this is also happening when white supporters of or apologists for Requires Hate talk sharply to, or make blanket public statements that erase the experiences of, people like Rochita, E. P. Beaumont, Jintian/ Hesychasm, and M Sereno/ Likhain. It is happening along other social power axes, as well—for instance, for Requires Hate’s targets such as Rachel Manija Brown, Athena Andreadis, Liz Williams, Colum Paget, and Tricia Sullivan, among others. They are all feeling the added burden and stress, I’m certain, of having to contend with the more influential, high-profile people in our community dissecting and opining on how much the targets’ experiences matter.

While we’re on the subject of identity and social privilege, it also seems fair to me to point out that Requires Hate rarely if ever discusses the aspects of her own demographics that are less advantageous to her identity-policing rhetoric—such as the fact that she is wealthy, and enjoys her own brand of racial privilege as an ethnically-Chinese person living in Thailand. That matters, too. Privilege is always relative, and people’s identities are complex.

(5) On weighing racism and the Sad-Rabid Puppies, versus Requires Hate.

You won’t get any argument from me that structural racism and white supremacy are a much bigger problem than the actions of any one person. The legacy of oppression we live with means that we all live on a power gradient, in which the words and actions of people with greater privilege fall with heavier weight on those lower on the privilege slope. And I know the kind of pain this can bring, which can lead someone to want to stomp the world down to flinders and dance among its bones.

But Requires Hate is a textbook example of why the tone argument can’t be used as a panacea for society’s ills.

I imagine our SFF community as a forest, an ecosystem burgeoning with living beings—one that I want to see thrive in all its complex interdependencies.

If so, the PuppyGaters’ bloc-voting slate on the Hugos comes across to me as a direct attack on our community’s well-being. It’s as if they are wielding flamethrowers. If they can’t have the forest to themselves, they want to burn it down. Requires Hate’s attacks, on the other hand, occur more insidiously, mostly out of sight. The hurt she has caused spreads more slowly like a poison, through streams, soil, and tap root, to kill the forest’s heart.

It destroys trust, when people know there is no true fairness in the accusations and threats being leveled against them, but that those around them, those who have the ability to defend them, either think the attacks are justified strictly on the basis of identity, or that they somehow don’t matter. And this damage also degrades our community’s health. It makes us all the more vulnerable to the flames.

I agree with those who say we need to send a message to the PuppyGaters by voting No Award on the SP/RP works[2],[3]. I also believe we need to make it clear as a community that we stand by the people harmed by Requires Hate.

Social-justice concepts have moral heft, and are themselves a form of power. They should be wielded with due care. With anger, yes, of course. Anger is an understandable and appropriate response to abuse.

But social-justice rhetoric should not—must not—be put to cynical and self-serving ends. These concepts were developed to eliminate injustice—not to create new unjust acts! I believe this down to my very bones.

Believe me, I wish I could stop talking about this. This isn’t about me, and I’d like nothing more than to leave the whole Requires Hate mess behind. But I feel I have a responsibility to our community. Until I am convinced that she has truly changed her ways, I will continue standing up for the people at risk of harm. (And this, by the way, was the advice of the expert I spoke to, regarding this matter.) If you truly care about the health and well-being of our community, I urge you to stand with me.

#RequiresLove (h/t Nalo Hopkinson)


[1] For the others, I confess, it was my heart, not my head, that called me to include them. Follow the links as you are able, read their words, and apply your own conscience, as to whether you agree.

[2] Though I intend to consider and vote on the non-SP/RP works on the ballot, as they are there by the will of the community. There are always plenty of great works that never see a Hugo ballot, and no award process will ever be perfect. Let us not punish those who are on the ballot despite the PuppyGaters’ efforts.

[3] I also want to give a shout-out to Annie Bellet, Marko Kloos, and Matthew David Sturridge, who declined their nominations when they discovered they had gotten onto the ballot due to the PuppyGaters. I urge everyone to read their works and consider them for a Hugo on the 2016 ballot.


Filed under Fandom

Standing in the Borderlands of Discourse

First of all, I want to thank Rochita Loenen-Ruiz for standing up in favor of my Hugo nomination. Rochita, I know that wasn’t easy. I am proud to know you, and humbled by your friendship and support.

The rest of this is a post I started when I heard about the nomination, after writing my acceptance post. A lot of other things have happened since then, and I had a set of links I’d been noodling around with, which isn’t complete yet, but let me get this up and I’ll deal with the rest later.


I want to draw people people’s attention to a post Rochita wrote recently at her own blog. It’s a must-read, heartbreaking essay about her fear of attending Dysprosium, the 2015 national British SF convention. Her encounters with Requires Hate & Co. have wounded her spirit in a profound way. How can anyone read her account and say it doesn’t matter, that we shouldn’t say anything that might hurt RH’s feelings—that we should take RH at her word that her abuses are all in the past and anyway, I was just picking on her and being racist and mean?

And it’s not just Rochita. SFF writer Colum Paget’s pain, when RH went after him for winning the James White award in lieu of her friend Tori Truslow (which, WTF? His story hadn’t even been published yet, and RH was trashing it and calling for him to be decapitated, based on a short excerpt of his story on the awards website) was as real and profound as Rochita’s. The harm done to him lasts to this day. I fear we have lost his writer’s voice, and I’m deeply sad about that. I have a serious disagreement with his political views, but he obviously has real talent and I don’t believe that the way to win an argument with him is to crush his spirit and silence his voice. He has the right to contribute his own stories to our community bookshelves, to find his readership.

While researching RH’s abuses, I heard stories like theirs over and over, day after day. If you weren’t the right demographics—the right ideology—if you didn’t toe the line—if you even looked at RH crosswise—then you were in for it.

The truth is, I have also been afraid. I’ve feared an attack, online or yes, even a potential real-life attack. Most of all, I’ve feared that speaking publicly about all this again could ignite a conflagration that makes RaceFail09 look like BakeSale09.

Some people have told me that for them, RH calling for people to be murdered or assaulted or mobbed was just hyperbole—performance art, in essence, and not meant to be taken seriously.

[Trigger warning: racial violence; homophobia]

I had a friend in college, a fellow engineering student. She was from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and her brother had been murdered in broad daylight in front of her eyes by a classmate of his, for dating the classmate’s sister. Because he was black and she was white. And the classmate was never even arrested, let alone prosecuted. I can’t even imagine what she and her family must have been through. How must they feel, to this day, wondering what her brother’s life might have been, had he lived?

And I have some close friends, a lesbian couple, who have been together for decades. When the marriage equality laws were passed in California they were finally able to marry, but I see them brace themselves, whenever I introduce them as a couple to others. They still feel that lingering fear, that need to be wary, because there are those who might attack them for openly wearing their sexual orientation in public.

In light of the severity and pervasiveness of these kinds of prejudice, it can be easy, I think, for activists to view social-media shaming campaigns, or political-purity checks at cons and publishers, as trivial in comparison, or as somehow worth the price. But the harm of online assaults is real and lasting. And unjust. Using your influence to have people barred from convention events or constrained from publishing their own works, as punishment for disagreeing with you, is both unethical and in some circumstances illegal.


I have had numerous people say to me that as a result of what RH has done, concepts of social justice and intersectionality have been tainted for them. They have been used as a cudgel and thus devalued. This saddens me.

A lot of people already know what I’m about to say—many advocates have been writing about this since forever, and scientific studies back them up, time and again. But for those who doubt it, the science is in, and prejudice, stereotyping, bigotry, and unconscious bias are all very real. People are dying daily because of the color of their skin, their class/caste, their sexual orientation, or their gender identity. Women of equal capability have a harder time finding employment, and are paid less, than men for the same work—and for people of color here in the US, it’s harder still. People get erased from awareness due to their disability or differences in neurology. In other words, if you are straight, white, male, of middle or upper class, and able, then (on average) you’re playing life on an easier setting than others. (Mind you, it doesn’t necessarily mean things are easy for you; it just means it’s easi-er than it is for your peers whose demographics differ from yours.)

It’s a kind of cosmic cruelty that those who can most clearly see the damage done by prejudice and discrimination are the people who receive that damage, and that thus the primary burden falls on people experiencing oppression to speak out about it, if they want things to change. (And we have to do it over, and over, and over… which is deeply wearing.)

Because this fundamental unfairness is baked into our social structures, it’s much easier for people in a position of greater privilege to speak “reasonably” while denying the impacts of discrimination, to tune out or discredit the words of people who are speaking from a position of social disadvantage. I have always felt that because of this, it’s the responsibility of the person with the greater structural advantage to make room for the person who has been harmed or marginalized to speak.

It’s a kindness, in other words, to give people the benefit of the doubt when they speak about a form of discrimination or bias you have never experienced—to assume good intent, despite any exasperation or frustration they might express.

It’s as if you are inside the building and one of your colleagues has been locked out. Maybe you even accidentally locked them out. Maybe not, and it’s just a big misunderstanding. Either way, it’s the courteous thing to do, to open the door. To make room for them. Apologize for inconveniencing them, if you find you inadvertently made their life more stressful. (And avoid embarrassing or patronizing them, of course, or acting like you’re doing them a big favor. It’s their building, too.)

It’s this very sense of courtesy, of social obligation, that RH has exploited.


Since social-justice concepts are true, they are a form of power. As with any sort of power, they need to be wielded ethically, or they can do a great deal of harm. People don’t control how much privilege, how many unearned advantages or disadvantages we are born with. What we can control is how we use the power we do have. For every one of us in this community, I would be willing to bet you that I could find someone who has greater systemic privilege than you, and I could find someone with less. (And you know? A person can be as oppressed as hell, and still be an asshole.)

It becomes much harder to talk about bias or prejudice, after what RH has done. We’re all too easily accused of hypocrisy, or assumed to be tainted by political association. Yet the injustices persist, regardless of whether we speak of them. Distrust and disbelief put locks on our mouths, our minds, and our hearts. We can’t build a community together unless we can speak honestly to each other.

And how do we distinguish RH’s actions from words spoken by people who are simply angry and hurt, in the heat of the moment? Or who use humor—snark and exaggeration—to make their point? Sometimes, sarcasm and gallows humor are all people have to keep them from falling into despair. Sometimes people need to put their foot down and say irritated or angry things. Because they have their own lived experience, that others can’t know, unless they speak, and anger is an appropriate response to abuse.

What are good rules of the road for how negative or sharp criticism can be, without going over the cliff edge? How can we preserve the good in our SFF legacy, without clinging to the aspects that have caused harm?


In short, this is an awful situation we’re in. It sucks, that our community has been hacked in this way. It sucks, that someone who could have been an important voice for positive change has turned out to be someone very different.

And it’s not just RH. The Sad and Rabid Puppies’ attempt to sweep the ballots comes across to me as a blatant backlash against efforts to expand our field and increase diverse voices. Their poison-pill attack on this year’s Hugo ballot reveals contempt for the very spirit of our community. However flawed and clumsy its implementation might be at times, the Hugo awards process seeks to receive and amplify the relationship that each reader has for their favorite writer, their favorite artist, their favorite editor or work, in order to sum things up: to encapsulate the field’s zeitgeist for that moment in time. SFF as a form seeks room for different voices, for the Other. For tolerance and diversity. It’s part of our tradition. It’s in our DNA.

As I mentioned in a recent follow-up post to my report, internet trolls are by-and-large sadistic, manipulative, narcissistic sociopaths, who torment people because they like it. They enjoy the feeling of power it gives them to make others suffer. That fear and isolation many of us feel, that associated anger, even rage, at those we disagree with? The trolls among us stoke it. They feed on it. It’s what gives them their power over us. Are we going to allow that pattern to continue? Are we going to keep dancing to their tune?

What RH and the Sad/ Rabid Puppies have in common, in other words, is not their politics, but their hate.


We in SFF have an obligation as a community not to collude in bullying through our silence. Cyber-bullying, like its real-life equivalent, knows no gender; no class; no race nor ethnicity nor culture; no political nor religious affiliation; no sexual orientation nor dis/ability status. A community can’t thrive if it allows abuses of its members to continue unimpeded.

I haven’t missed the painful fact that RH is not the only one who abuses others, some of whom are of greater status in our field. Even if we discount those who have miscast people’s efforts to expand SFF readers’ access to new, diverse voices as attempts to chase them, the self-styled successors of the old guard, out—oppression itself is a form of abuse that bears down on people of marginalized status. We live in a poisoned pool of unfair bias. The fact that RH wields as her weapon the prejudice people from marginalized groups face, when they are accused of being abusive for speaking uncomfortable truths, simply makes her own abuses that much more cruel.

I’ve spoken to an expert in the matter who has studied our case, who tells me that RH’s abuses (like Vox Day’s) are highly unlikely to stop by themselves, if she follows the trajectory of other people who act as she has. Over and over, for more than a decade, she has blown up communities by positioning herself as a victim and finding people to cover for her, who either feel they don’t have a right to criticize her, or are willing to overlook her behavior for the sake of other concerns.

That’s why I accepted the nomination, and why I continue to speak. The community is still at risk. I believe we need to find a way to send a clear signal* that the community stands firm on this basic principle: that our politics can’t outweigh our humanity. That everyone has a fundamental right to be here, to engage in online and in-person discourse without being threatened with annihilation. We have to find a way—not to deny our own beliefs and experiences—but to talk across the divides.

I don’t have good answers for how we can help the center hold, but I do believe we need to rally as a community around a set of norms. A covenant of sorts. An agreement that, whatever the fractures in our community—whatever our disagreements—whatever personal circumstances brought us to this genre in the first place—at its heart, SFF has room for all of us.

Every era has its defining challenge. Ours is to do the messy, difficult work of giving birth to that reality, by not giving in to the voices of hate, from without or within.


*22 May 2015 Update: The original words were”A vote for me sends a clear signal….” I’ve edited them to acknowledge the concerns of those who have criticized me for campaigning. That’s not what this is about for me, and I’m on board with however people need to vote. What I’m looking for is for acknowledgment of the harm of abusive practices, and the importance of recognizing everyone’s right to be heard. #RequiresLove

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Filed under Fandom, Fiction

About that Hugo Nomination…


So yeah. Wow. I am gratified—and stunned—to have been nominated for Best Fan Writer Hugo for my November, 2014 investigative report on Requires Hate/ Winterfox/ Benjanun Sriduangkaew (HTML | PDF). If you’re wondering why I was nominated, that’s the place to start.

Hugo nominators, I’m humbled by your vote of confidence. I’d be glad to win the award. I value the good opinion of my peers, but more importantly, being on the ballot sends a clear signal to the people who’ve been targeted by Requires Hate & Co. that the SFF community has their backs. Still, I’d trade a hundred Hugo nominations for an alternate version of our fannish history—one that didn’t include damage done to our people or our communities by those hiding self-serving agendas behind high-minded rhetoric.

I have accepted the nomination, to raise awareness regarding those who have been harmed, and those who have stood up against the harm Requires Hate has done. Again, thanks to George RR Martin for his signal boost of my report, as well as the other pros and fans who nominated me.



A Sad-Rabid-Hateful State of Affairs

An existential struggle is underway for the heart of our SFF community. The field has been battered repeatedly by ideological contention and controversy, as evinced by the bigotry-driven Sad-Puppies Hugos campaigners, who have infected our awards process with an astro-turfing virus. My own feelings about the matter are expressed better than I ever could by Abi Sutherland and Elizabeth Bear (EB1EB2).

Patrick Nielsen Hayden has also brought to people’s attention the fact that Matthew David Sturridge, reviewer for Black Gate, made the very difficult decision to turn down his Hugo fan writer nomination, as a protest against the fact that he was on the Sad-Puppies slate for bloc voting, when he opposes everything they stand for. It may well have been this act that led to my name ending up on the final ballot. I also want to give a nod to the other SFF fans and pros who would otherwise have made it onto the final ballot, if not for the Sad/Rabid Puppies campaign. You deserved better, and I would have been proud and honored to share a Hugo nomination with you.

Against this backdrop (“it’s all about ethics in Hugo voting”), Requires Hate’s long-running pseudo-social-justice-inspired campaign of hostility and aggression toward fellow SFF writers and fans has made it that much harder for our community to deal in a unified way with attacks from the extreme right.

Requires Hate’s attacks on fellow writers and fans, under the guise of social justice, have been happening under the radar for most people in the SFF community-at-large, but the impacts are far-reaching. The attacks have had a serious and demoralizing impact on a range of people who either are themselves vulnerable or marginalized, or else who read and/or write stories in diverse settings or with characters from diverse communities. In other words, the people harmed have been the very ones we want to nurture, promote, and elevate—and note, who often share the views and are even some of the same people as those under attack by the Sad Puppies.

As a result of Requires Hate’s actions, valuable members of our community have been silenced, harassed, even chased out of the field—people whose voices we need as we respond to campaigns like Sad Puppies. And Requires Hate’s attacks are still ongoing. If we are committed to protecting our community from assault by haters, in other words, Requires Hate’s actions matter just as much as the Sad Puppies’ do. Her situation is just a lot messier than theirs.

With Vox Day and his ilk, it’s not hard for decent, caring people to figure out where they stand. That’s not as true of Requires Hate. For me, her situation is more complicated. It’s awful and icky and sad, and raises all kinds of challenges and questions about how we engage with each other and how social-justice concepts should be applied in the real world.

But as hard as it is for us to wrestle with this—and as unnerving as it is to have this conversation under the gaze of the Sad-Puppies’ militant allies, the GamerHaters, who’ve done horrible things to people in the gaming community who are seeking to expand diversity in their own field—we have an obligation not to avert our collective gaze. People are still being targeted by Requires Hate, and the community is still at risk.



I take full responsibility for the content of my report; however, numerous people gave me crucial input and support during my investigation, such  as pointers to other targets and documentation, feedback on my drafts, suggestions for significant improvements, and signal boosts during its release. Without them, there would have been no report. You all have my heartfelt gratitude. Some who helped have asked to remain anonymous, but for those who were willing to be named, I want to recognize their individual contributions.

For me, this all started with a Twitter argument late last September that I happened to spot in my feed. It seemed off, somehow. People I knew and respected were making serious allegations of lying—doxxing—collusion with bullying—against other people I knew and respected. Metaphorically, fists were flying, between people from whom I’d never have expected it.

When I reached out via email to some of the parties involved, I had no idea what I was in for. Initially, even in private conversations, those caught up in the blowup were reluctant to provide names or details, despite the fact that they were clearly deeply distraught. This was not a normal personality conflict or garden-variety fan-wankage.

As I dug further and spoke to more people, the matter began to take on ever larger and twistier proportions.

Death threats? Blackmail? Blackballing? People terrified to leave their homes? Online communities obliterated? Since 2003? WTF???

Rochita Loenen-Ruiz and Tricia Sullivan each had to make a tough call, in those first days. They were really on the firing line, with Requires Hate and her supporters leveling all kinds of false accusations at them.

Back then, it was hard to believe that anything could change Requires Hate’s trajectory, and from Trish’s and Rochita’s perspectives, sharing details of what had happened must have seemed most likely to just make matters worse. Feed the flames. Draw more people into what was already an ugly conflagration that had damaged personal and professional relationships. But they made a decision to trust that I would treat their information with care, and find a way to get the truth out there that the community could grasp fully.

They answered my questions in depth about the actions Requires Hate and her primary supporter Alex Dally MacFarlane had taken (buckle your seatbelts; even the condensed version is convoluted):

  • First, to (ultimately unsuccessfully) suppress publication of Trish’s book Shadowboxer, and when Rochita refused to knuckle under by pre-emptively trashing Tricia’s book in public;
  • To attack Rochita’s career through attempts to shut her out of convention events and have her blackballed by publishers (RLR1, RLR2); and
  • Last fall, to publicly attack both Tricia and Rochita for supposedly outing the Requires Hate as also being her new ingénue persona, Benjanun Sriduangkaew, as a means to deceive the community about the connection.

I’m deeply grateful for the trust Rochita and Trish both placed in me.

SFF writer and editor Athena Andreadis’s contributions were pivotal. It was in speaking to her only a day or so later—seeing the emotional toll it took to tell me her story, when I knew Athena to be highly intelligent, accomplished, and well able to handle adversity—that I began get an inkling of the scale of destruction Requires Hate had wrought. That took great courage.

SFF writers Rachel Manija Brown, Kari Sperring, and Liz Williams also showed fortitude and integrity. Each stepped up very soon thereafter, when they heard I was looking into the matter. They told me their own stories. They helped corroborate or correct key details of what had happened to them and others they knew. They identified prior blow-ups, targeting, and so on, which enabled me to begin fleshing out the prior history. Their insights and contributions were critical.

Numerous other targets and witnesses began coming forward to share their stories with me, as well, and/or provide important documentation, and I honor their contributions. For targets, it’s hard to speak your truth, when you fear (with good reason) that people either won’t believe you, or just won’t get why something that happened online could be so icky, so traumatic, so terrifying. For witnesses, the very real fear that cooperating or speaking up will put you in the line of fire next can paralyze your vocal chords.

In addition to the targets, other people early on made a conscious decision to step up, even though they didn’t have to. Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden were the first to sign on to help me wrestle with everything I was uncovering. Their moral support, strategic thinking, editing skills, and willingness to help get the word out were a godsend.

I reached out to Nalo Hopkinson after uncovering some evidence she might have been targeted. I learned she hadn’t been, but once she found out what was going on, she believed me—believed the targets—and provided important insights and suggestions for how to help the community. She showed clear-eyed kindness, love, and clear ethical boundaries that kept me grounded. She also supported me publicly when the report was released, which I know has strained relationships that are important to her. It calls me to show the same integrity. She was the one who came up with the Twitter hashtag #RequiresLove, which I think beautifully captures what our focus must be, to recover and right our fragile relations. I feel so fortunate to have her friendship and support.

Pat Cadigan, not a target at that time, had the titanium ovaries necessary to insist publicly on accountability and truth-telling, and behind the scenes provided moral support to several people who had been targeted. (Though she became a target after my report came out, for calling out a man on Twitter, who turned out to be a GamerHater, for pretending he hadn’t seen my report when he clearly had.) Sherwood Smith also provided moral support and wise counsel behind the scenes to some of the targets, and I know it meant a great deal to them.

Up-and-coming SFF writers Tade Thompson and Victor Fernando R. Ocampo responded to Rochita’s call to support writers and fans in the SFF community of color, helping them process what was happening, and—along with other people of color behind the scenes who prefer to remain anonymous—gave me a clearer perspective on some of the important inter-racial, -ethnic, and -cultural undertones of what was unfolding around us. This, and their willingness to be visible on the SAFE blog in a racially-fraught conflict, showed tremendous grit and compassion.

As I mentioned above, several who prefer to remain anonymous also provided support and information behind the scenes. Throughout my investigation, they demonstrated deep love for the field by uniting in purpose to protect those who were harmed, despite their personal and philosophical differences. You know who you are, and you have my undying thanks.

And for those who, however conflicted your feelings may be about my report or my nomination, and how it might affect our community—how it might be used cynically, for instance, as a tool by bigots to tear down the social safety net that progressive advocates have poured so much sweat and blood into—or who have seen personal and professional relationships disrupted, harming innocent parties—but who still made a decision to believe the targets, I want to honor you as well. I understand your concerns and thank you for supporting the people harmed despite your reservations.

I get why this is so hard to talk about. We are fragmented, as a global community, even within the progressive community, with many unresolved grievances in our past and no easy way to talk about them with each other. But we have to find a way, somehow. I have some more thoughts on this, which I’ll post in coming days.



  • Comments will be closed. Teresa Nielsen Hayden at Making Light, has mad mod skillz that extend back to the early days of the internet. She has agreed to sponsor a discussion on community standards and how to create safe and productive online communities in a stormy political environment: how to maximize light and minimize heat. It should go up soon, so keep an eye out. I’ll post a link as soon as it’s up over there. Tade Thompson also invites people to discuss the situation at his blog SAFE. There are already several open threads there, and if he posts an additional one, I’ll include a link here.
  • Self- and other-care stuff, in case it’s needed, this Hugos season:
    1. (hat tip to Nalo, for inspiring this one) If you receive hate tweets by GamerHaters or RequiresHate, or anyone else, you can use Nalo’s #RequiresLove hashtag to make a commitment to donate to whatever cause they are hating on you for espousing. For instance, for every hate-tweet you get, you would donate $1 to a cause that fosters diversity in publishing or computer gaming. Whatever is affordable for you. Though I don’t FaceBook or Tumble, there may be ways to adapt this to those media as well. Be sure to ask your followers for support as needed! (And give a count of your progress! >:) )
    2. Don’t panic if people you’ve always been cordial with temporarily block or unfollow you, or take their account private for a while. Sometimes people are upset and need to create an extremely safe space around themselves, while they sort out conflicting feelings. This is all really difficult stuff to deal with. I believe that eventually the dust will settle and we’ll be able to look at each other with a clearer gaze than we can right now. Meanwhile, it’s better not to burn bridges or assume the worst of people who are simply freaking out.
    3. One successful method I’ve seen used to help protect someone receiving hate tweets, after of course screencapping (for PCs | for Macs) (Pro-tip: be prepared with the right software and practice a couple of screencaps before you dive into discussions, if you haven’t done it before), blocking, reporting, and muting, is for concerned friends to send the person under attack a load of fun and loving stuff—kitten gifs or friendly silly jokes, etc. It helps move the offensive stuff off-screen and remind them they are valued.
    4. If you see someone else come under attack by threats or slurs, I recommend screencapping anyway, even if it’s not you being attacked. Multiple copies don’t hurt. It’s not uncommon for a person under attack to feel overwhelmed and freaked out. They may click away or log out just to get away from the ugliness without capturing it. Picking up some of the slack for them, if you’re a bystander, can really help.
    5. For those who want to help out on their blogs by fostering discussions, preserving offending comments in the trashbin with their IP addresses intact would be helpful.
    6. Zoe Quinn, who was targeted by GamerHaters in the games community, has created Crash Override, an online anti-harassment website, to help combat cyber-bullying. The instigation was GamerGate, but targets of other online harassment can reach out to them for support on an individual basis, as well.
    7. I can be reached at loudly sing cuckoo at gmail dot com (without the spaces, and with the other obvious modifications). Response time can sometimes be slow, so please bear with me. <3
  • Several people have created lists of links to stories and books by people who were targeted by Requires Hate. One great way to support the targets would be to buy, review, and discuss their works with fellow readers (Pretty Terrible; Dangerous Jam. I’d really love for Tricia’s fantasy novel Shadowboxer to get some extra reader love—she got hammered hard last fall, and it’s a great book).

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