Category: Pecksniffery

Activists demand Met remove painting of girl “in suggestive pose”, museum refuses

December 5, 2017 • 9:00 am

Here’s a painting on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City: “Thérèse Dreaming” (1938) by the Polish-French artist Balthasar Klossowski de Rola, also known as “Balthus.” It shows a young girl in reverie (and there’s a cat). In today’s climate, though, the fact that her legs are splayed and her underwear is showing was sufficient to trigger the Pecksniffs. It was worsened by the fact that Balthus frequently produced art like this; as Wikipedia notes, “He is known for his erotically-charged images of pubescent girls, but also for the refined, dreamlike quality of his imagery.”

According to yesterday’s New York Times, Mia Merrill, a New York woman, has called for the removal of the painting, and created a petition to that end that has gathered over 8,000 signatures. Here’s her announcement:

The petition is here, and includes these words (Merrill’s emphasis):

When I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art this past weekend, I was shocked to see a painting that depicts a young girl in a sexually suggestive pose. Balthus’ painting, Thérèse Dreaming, is an evocative portrait of a prepubescent girl relaxing on a chair with her legs up and underwear exposed.

It is disturbing that the Met would proudly display such an image. They are a renowned institution and one of the largest, most respected art museums in the United States. The artist of this painting, Balthus, had a noted infatuation with pubescent girls, and it can be strongly argued that this painting romanticizes the sexualization of a child.

In 2013, the Met hosted the exhibit “Balthus: Cats and Girls—Paintings and Provocations,” which included more of Balthus’ overtly pedophilic work. As the Guardian wrote: “The Met, not imprudently, has put a plaque at the start of the show that reads: “Some of the paintings in this exhibition may be disturbing to some visitors.” If The Met had the wherewithal to reference the disturbing nature of Balthus for this exhibit, they understand the implications of displaying his art as a part of their permanent collection.

Given the current climate around sexual assault and allegations that become more public each day, in showcasing this work for the masses without providing any type of clarification, The Met is, perhaps unintentionally, supporting voyeurism and the objectification of children.

I am not asking for this painting to be censored, destroyed or never seen again. I am asking The Met to seriously consider the implications of hanging particular pieces of art on their walls, and to be more conscientious in how they contextualize those pieces to the masses. This can be accomplished by either removing the piece from that particular gallery, or providing more context in the painting’s description. For example, a line as brief as, “some viewers find this piece offensive or disturbing, given Balthus’ artistic infatuation with young girls.”‘

In an interview with the Times, she insisted again that she was not asking for censorship, even though her petition offered removal of the painting as an alternative:

Ms. Merrill also insisted she was not trying to encourage censorship. “But the blatant objectification and sexualization of a child is where I draw the line,” Ms. Merrill said by phone on Friday.

 But of course she’s encouraging censorship: removal of paintings that she sees as objectifying and sexualizing children. (She is advocating removal: look at the title of her petition.) In other words, she sees this painting as child pornography, presumably encouraging child sexual abuse.  Fortunately, the Met refused to cave; the Museum’s chief communications officer, Ken Weine, said this:

“Moments such as this provide an opportunity for conversation, and visual art is one of the most significant means we have for reflecting on both the past and the present and encouraging the continuing evolution of existing culture through informed discussion and respect for creative expression.”

Good for them; would that every Museum would respond this way!

Now I can barely see the usefulness of having a sign like the one the petition mentions for a collection or exhibit of such paintings, but how do you do that for a single painting? Answer: you don’t. The image may be sexualized, but it’s not child porn, and were we to ban it, we’d have to ban Lolita by Nabokov, or at least put a big trigger warning on the cover. We’d have to ban all paintings of Leda and the Swan, which depict the rape of Leda by Zeus in cygnid form; here’s one after Michelangelo:

(from Wikipedia): Leda and the Swan, a 16th-century copy after a lost painting by Michelangelo (National Gallery, London)

Leda and the Swan paintings could encourage not only child abuse but bestiality. And of course there are numerous paintings of rape in the canon, including many versions of the mythological Roman story of the Rape of the Sabine Women. (Here “rape” in Latin was “raptio,” which could be translated as “abduction”, but the paintings are salacious and there’s no doubt about what was going to happen to the abducted women.) Here’s a version by Rubens:

I’m not quite sure why people aren’t up in arms about paintings like that.

Virginia photographer Sally Mann, who has exhibited and published pictures of her nude children, has been subject to similar opprobrium, including threats of arrest. She takes revealing pictures of herself and her family, as well as beautiful pictures of her environment (see here for a sample).  She’s one of my favorite modern photographers. The photographs are taken and shown with the children’s consent, though one could argue whether a very young child’s consent is meaningful. I’ve never found them sexual at all, though I suppose pedophiles could. But the question to ask is whether Mann, or Balthus, has caused a net harm to society (including the children) by publishing nudes of children. They’re not fueling an industry that runs on sexual exploitation of children, as does true child porn, and their images are lovely. Do they cause a net harm or net benefit to society? I argue the latter; see Mann’s photographs for examples.

If Mann or Balthus creates art by reproducing or painting child nudes, and that’s wrong, then it’s also wrong to let anybody read Lolita—or at least to read it without a preliminary trigger warning. It’s also wrong to show pictures of women being abducted or sexually abused by birds.

As the Left grows more authoritarian, society grows more puritanical. I’m willing to bet, without knowing, that Mia Merrill considers herself a progressive.

The annual roundup of “offensive” Halloween costumes: you vote!

November 1, 2017 • 10:00 am

Insider has taken it upon itself to show the 16 most offensive Halloween costumes of the year, and why they’re offensive (I didn’t see any of these in person, but I didn’t go to a party or trick-or-treating). Insider‘s description and comments are indented.

I’ll ask you to vote on each costume in a poll following it: is it offensive or not? (You can view the results after you vote.) PLEASE VOTE, as I’d like a decent sample size (of course the readers here aren’t a random cross section of Americans!)

If you have no opinion, don’t vote. You are likely to find at least one or more of these offensive, so please give your reactions to any specific costumes in the comments.  Here we go!

“Sexy Shooter Happy Hour”

This Yandy offering comes complete with a “poncho-style” minidress and a sombrero, both of which draw on exaggerated stereotypes of Mexican culture and could be considered offensive.

“This Dream Catcher Costume could be considered cultural appropriation”

“Men’s Arab Sheik Costume.”

It’s harmful to reinforce negative and misconceived notions about a region, religion, or group of people, like this Kmart costume does.

The “Golden Geisha” Costume

Wearing a geisha costume, like this one from Yandy, could be seen as cultural appropriation.

“Rasta Costume Kit.”

This Walmart costume includes a dreadlock wig that could be deemed offensive.

“Anne Frank/World War II Girl Costume.”

The site that was selling it under the name “Anne Frank costume” removed it, but you can still buy it (under the name of “World War II Evacuee”) from Walmart.

“Dia De Los Beauty.”

If you’re not Mexican, it would be offensive for you to dress in Day of the Dead-inspired garb, like this costume from Yandy.

“Inflatable Ballerina.”

Try to avoid costumes that could be interpreted as body-shaming, like this one from Target.

“Droopers.”

This mock uniform from Spirit Halloween manages to be both ageist and body-shaming to women at the same time.

“Reality Star in the Making.”

Although it might seem topical, this Yandy costume, which is intended to look like a reportedly pregnant Kylie Jenner, also has body-shaming implications.

“Upside Down Honey.”

Yandy makes the controversial “Upside Down Honey” costume, which some argue unnecessarily sexualizes Eleven’s iconic outfit by lowering the dress’ neckline while shortening its hemline, swapping sneakers for platform heels, and replacing ankle socks with thigh-high socks. [JAC: This appears to come from a t.v. show, “Stranger Things”.]

“Sexy Convict.”

Incarceration is not funny, though this Yandy costume tries to suggest otherwise. [JAC: The note also says the costume “could be interpreted as trivializing the U.S. prison system”.]

“Restrained Convict.”

By presenting a straightjacket as a joke, this Yandy costume downplays a serious issue. [JAC: The description adds that “this reinforces harmful misconceptions about mental illness in prison.”]

“Hobo Nightmare.”

Homelessness is a serious issue, although this Wonder Costumes getup does not present it as such.

“Gorilla/Harembe”

On its own this Yandy costume is fine, but implying that it is the animal that was controversially killed in 2016 would be problematic.

“Snake Charmer.”

This Yandy costume not only appropriates Middle Eastern culture but also has disturbing sexual undertones. [JAC: ???]

h/t: Melissa

How Kirkus changed its review of American Heart after mob pressure

October 17, 2017 • 9:00 am

Yesterday I reported  that Kirkus, one of the three “biggie” reviewing services that vets books for libraries and readers before publication, had removed a prized star from one of its reviews: that of American Heart by Laura Moriarty (out January 2018).  It’s a “young adult” novel describing hypothetical America in which Muslims, as were many Japanese in World War II, are confined in internment camps, and how the protagonist (a white girl), originally in favor of those camps, changes her mind and helps a Muslim boy escape to Canada. It’s clearly an empathic, anti-nativism book meant to inspire thought and conversation.

After giving the book a “starred” review, which would boost sales, Kirkus was besieged by an online mob—many of them from the group YA Twitter that vets books for Leftist ideological purity—that was clearly enraged that the narrator was white. They accused Moriarity of penning a “white savior” novel, even though most of the critics could not have read the book. Moriarity described the incident on her Facebook page, and how Kirkus had put up a notice about why the star was removed. Here’s their notice:

It is a policy of Kirkus Reviews that books with diverse subject matter and protagonists are assigned to Own Voices reviewers—writers who can draw upon lived experience when evaluating texts. Our assignment of the review of American Heart was no exception to this rule and was reviewed by an observant Muslim person of color (facts shared with her permission). Our reviewer is an expert in children’s & YA literature and well-versed in the dangers of white savior narratives. She found that American Heart offers a useful warning about the direction we’re headed in as far as racial enmity is concerned.

The issue of diversity in children’s and teen literature is of paramount importance to Kirkus, and we appreciate the power language wields in discussion of the problems. As a result, we’ve removed the starred review from kirkus.com after determining that, while we believe our reviewer’s opinion is worthy and valid, some of the wording fell short of meeting our standards for clarity and sensitivity, and we failed to make the thoughtful edits our readers deserve. The editors are evaluating the review and will make a determination about correction or retraction after careful consideration in collaboration with the reviewer.

At Kirkus Reviews, we will continue to evaluate editorial solutions for better reflecting the expertise of our reviewers and their uniform appreciation for responsible portrayals of marginalized groups. We appreciate the discussion of these issues and celebrate the free exchange of opinions and ideas.

This is about as Authoritarian Leftist as a company can be—to the extent that they choose reviewers with the correct “lived experience” (why didn’t a Muslim woman of color have that “lived experience”?) And as for Kirkus‘s claim that “some of the wording fell short of meeting our standards for clarity and sensitivity,” well, based on what you can read below the clarity was fine—the problem was the “sensitivity”. That is, the reviewer failed to criticize the author for writing this book from a white girl’s point of view. It seems that Kirkus, which has substantial power to determine whether libraries buy a new book, and thus whether kids get to read it, is using ideological rather than literary standards to judge novels.

As Kirkus noted, the original starred review was written by “an observant Muslim person of color”—someone who could have dissed the book but instead awarded it a prized star on its merits. That wasn’t good enough. Kirkus removed the star and, as they admitted above, changed its review. Without having seen the original review, I guessed yesterday which sentence had been added to placate the Pecksniffs (see below). I was right, for Moriarty posted the original Kirkus review in a comment on this site yesterday. I reproduce the original and then the bowdlerized review below, putting in bold the sentences that were added after the star was removed. They are the ones you’d expect.

Original review:

Review Issue Date: November 1, 2017
Online Publish Date: October 10, 2017
Publisher:HarperTeen
Pages: 416
Price ( Hardcover ): $17.99
Price ( e-book ): $12.99
Publication Date: January 30, 2018
ISBN ( Hardcover ): 978-0-06-269410-2
ISBN ( e-book ): 978-0-06-269412-6
Category: Fiction

Starred Review

Fifteen-year-old Sarah Mary will do anything for her sensitive younger brother, but she never thought that would mean running from the law. The setting is the Midwestern United States; the time is the not-too-distant future. A Muslim registry is in effect, and Muslims are being bused to detention centers called “safety zones” en masse. This doesn’t bother Sarah Mary, a strong-minded, fiercely loyal, and protective teenager whose mother has abandoned her and her younger brother, Caleb, to their ultraconservative Christian aunt. (The whole family appears to be white.) Her indifference is forced to change when Caleb’s compassion for Sadaf, a Muslim in hiding, gets her involved in a plan to help this Iranian woman escape. Together, Sarah Mary and her new companion face extreme dangers, prejudices, disappointments—and unexpected kindnesses from their fellow Americans as they fight nearly impossible odds to get Sadaf through several states and over the border undetected. Moriarty creates a frighteningly believable setting of fear and violent nativism gone awry as she traces their journey to help Sadaf find the freedom she sought when she immigrated to the United States. By turns terrifying, suspenseful, thought-provoking, and touching, this book is so rich that the coincidences in the plot are easily forgiven. A moving portrait of an American girl discovering her society in crisis, desperate to show a disillusioned immigrant the true spirit of America. (Fiction. 13-18)

Review revised after mob takes issue; book data are the same, but the star was reemoved (changed or added bits bolded):

Fifteen-year-old Sarah Mary will do anything for her sensitive younger brother, but she never thought that would mean running from the law.

The setting is the Midwestern United States; the time is the not-too-distant future. A Muslim registry is in effect, and Muslims are being bused to detention centers called “safety zones” en masse. This doesn’t bother Sarah Mary, a strong-minded, fiercely loyal, and protective teenager whose mother has abandoned her and Caleb to their ultraconservative Christian aunt. Her indifference is forced to change when Caleb’s compassion for a Muslim in hiding gets her involved in a plan to help this Iranian woman escape. Together, Sarah Mary and her new companion face extreme dangers, prejudices, disappointments—and unexpected kindnesses from their fellow Americans as they fight nearly impossible odds to get her through several states and over the border undetected. Moriarty creates a frighteningly believable setting of fear and violent nativism gone awry as she traces their journey to help Sadaf find the freedom she sought when she immigrated to the United States. Sarah Mary’s ignorance is an effective worldbuilding device, but it is problematic that Sadaf is seen only through the white protagonist’s filter. Still, some will find value in the emotionally intense exploration of extremist “patriotic” ideology, the dangers of brainwashing and blind spots, and some of the components of our nation’s social fabric that threaten to destroy us, such as segregation, greed, mistrust, and mob mentalities.

A thought-provoking, chilling read with a controversial premise.

(Fiction. 13-18) (Ed. Note: The review of American Heart has been edited for clarity and to provide additional insights from the reviewer from its original appearance on kirkus.com, which was removed from the site with this statement.)

Note that the first bolded sentence is precisely the one that, I guessed, had caused the star to be removed. Then there’s the weaselly qualifier “still, some [presumably those who are ideologically untutored] will find value. . .” with the addition of all the implicit criticisms of the Trump administration. The original last sentence about the book being a “moving portrait” is now changed to “a thought-provoking, chilling read with a controversial premise.” Now that’s a library-buyer’s nightmare.

And really, Kirkus criticizes “mob mentalities”? Really? For it was a mob mentality that caused Kirkus to bow to social pressure, remove the star, and change its review.

Sadly, this hasn’t appeared on library and book sites, and it really should, for it’s a form of censorship based on conformity with Authoritarian Leftist culture. People should know that Kirkus is up to this kind of nonsense. The only place, in fact, that you’ll find any mention of this incident is on right-wing sites like The National Review, which reports this:

Struggling to grasp how this [plot] could possibly be offensive? Well, struggle no more. On Goodreads, reviewers take issue with the fact that Sarah-Mary decides to help. This, they argue, is reflective of an offensive “white savior” narrative by which Moriarty suggests that minorities such as Sadaf need someone white to save them. Here is the top-rated review, for example:

f*** your white savior narratives
f*** using marginalized characters as a plot device to teach the white mc [sic] how to be a decent person
f*** you for perpetuating the idea that marginalized people need to suffer in order to be worthy of “humanity”
f*** this book and everyone who thought it would be a good f***ing idea

Now it’s possible that the book is not sufficiently meritorious to deserve a star, at least according to the lights of objective readers (but few have read the book). But one person did—the reviewer—and yet she was overruled by a group who hadn’t read the book but didn’t like its ideology. It is that narrative, in which books are judged publicly by whether they conform to the Leftist mores of the moment, that I object to. And that is why books like Huckleberry Finn and To Kill a Mockingbird are being censored (removing the word “nigger” and replacing it with “slave”, for instance), removed from curricula, or removed from school libraries. We face a future in which all new books must conform to a certain political viewpont to be worthy of approbation or review. And that will be a sad and sanitized culture, one in which books will not be controversial or inspire argument and thought.

 

Chicago’s soda tax repealed

October 11, 2017 • 10:45 am

Yesterday, by a vote of 15-1, the Cook County Finance Committee voted to overturn our recent and much-despised 2¢-per-ounce tax on sodas. I’ve written about it several times before, and will say here only that it’s a Nanny Tax—part of the government’s increasing effort to control the private lives of Americans—and that it was also hypocritical, for the rationale given for the tax (health, not revenue), doesn’t explain why diet sodas weren’t taxed.  There’s a final vote today by all the Commissioners, but it’s already a done deal.

The repeal was due to several factors, most importantly a loud and public negative reaction to the tax, not only on grounds of “nannyism,” but because Cook County is in a huge financial hole and they’re trying to tax everything to get out of it. We now have a 7-cents-per-bag fee for every plastic bag bought in a store (something I approve of, for it reduces litter and saves the lives of animals), but this is on top of that, and it’s a regressive tax on the poor. Further, it wasn’t working well: people were actually driving across the border to Indiana, or to adjacent counties, to buy soda.

Finally, as the Chicago Tribune noted, Chicagoans aren’t stupid, and realized that the tax was almost entirely about revenue from the outset, yet the pro-tax ads mentioned only health. That was seen as hypocritical:

Preckwinkle has admitted from the beginning she had a budget shortfall she needed to deal with, but sugarcoated that message with one about how this tax would make Cook County residents healthier. Then, when the tax was in jeopardy, she allowed former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg to bombard us for weeks with a television ad warning how soft drinks are harming minority communities.

Though the ad happened to be true, the timing made it seem insulting and condescending. It assumed that African-Americans and Hispanics, unlike everyone else, didn’t know that sugary drinks are unhealthy. And that minorities, again like everybody else, choose to drink sodas anyway because they enjoy them.

Grownups hate being told what to do, especially when they know the message is insincere.

True, the sale of sugared sodas is injurious to the overal health of society. But it’s also salubrious for many people’s well being. And lots of things whose absence would improve societal health aren’t taxed, like candy bars, red meat, and bags of sugar. You can always find a health justification for infringing on people’s diets (unless they’re vegans), and so many readers applauded the soda tax when I wrote about it. But as of December 1, it’ll be gone, and I’m glad of it.

Siri, Alexa, and other bots tested for feminist purity, fail miserably

February 28, 2017 • 9:00 am

There’s a famous story about Samuel Johnson and his dictionary that is appropriate to begin this piece. The story is this:

Mrs. Digby told me that when she lived in London with her sister, Mrs. Brooke, they were every now and then honoured by the visits of Dr. Johnson. He called on them one day soon after the publication of his immortal dictionary. The two ladies paid him due compliments on the occasion. Amongst other topics of praise they very much commended the omission of all naughty words. ‘What! my dears! then you have been looking for them?’ said the moralist. The ladies, confused at being thus caught, dropped the subject of the dictionary.

—H.D. Best, Personal and Literary Memorials, London, 1829, printed in Johnsonian Miscellanies, (1897) vol. II, page 390, edited by George Birkbeck Hill

These women were Pecksniffs, ferreting out bad language wherever they could.  Now we see a similar example in a new article at Quartz, “We tested bots like Siri and Alexa to see who would stand up to sexual harassment“. It was written by Leah Fessler, an editorial fellow at the site (where she covers “the intersections of relationships, sexuality, psychology, and economics”) and a freelance journalist. At first I thought the whole piece was just a joke—a Poe—but I’m certain now that isn’t true. It’s what a third-wave feminist with too much time on her hands might do.

What Fessler did was sexually harass her phone and other bots, asking programmed responders like Siri, Alexa, Cortana, and Google to respond to various insults and questions Fessler considered indicators of sexual harassment.  Fessler concludes that the bots are often sexist, often respond inappropriately, are frequently coy rather than antagonistic toward harassing men, and in fact facilitate the “rape culture” of the U.S.—a term that bothers me because it isn’t true.

Let us remember a few things. First of all, many of these bots can be changed to men’s voices. My iPhone, for instance, can have Siri speak as either a man or a woman, and with either an American, Australian, or British accent. Fessler’s response is that listeners prefer a woman’s voice, and therefore that’s the default option because it’s more lucrative, and, anyway, bots are programmed mostly by men (she has no evidence for this), and those men come from the “male-dominated and notoriously sexist” culture of Silicon Valley.

Second, most of these questions are asked as jokes: people (surely mostly men) trying to see how their phone would respond to salacious questions. I have to confess that I’ve yelled nasty things at my phone when it didn’t do what I wanted, and was curious to hear the answer. Further, I’ve also asked leading and salacious questions merely to see how the bot would respond. I suspect a lot of the things Fessler said to her bots would, when said by others, be statements motivated more by curiosity than by sexism.  Fessler’s response is twofold: it’s still sexual harassment, even if directed at a machine, and, more important, it simply promotes sexual harassment in society at large because the bots’ responses are often inappropriate, failing to shut down the evil sexists who harass their phones or even encourage them. (I suspect that, if she could, Fessler would have the phone deliver to men an electric shock when it hears some of the statements given below.)

Most important, there is not the slightest bit of evidence that “harassing” a smartphone promotes the mistreatment of women, evidence required to support Fessler’s assertions. Here’s some of what she says (my emphasis):

Many argue capitalism is inherently sexist. But capitalism, like any market system, is only sexist because men have oppressed women for centuries. This has led to deep-rooted inequalities, biased beliefs, and, whether we like it or not, consumers’ sexist preferences for digital servants having female voices.

While we can’t blame tech giants for trying to capitalize on market research to make more money, we can blame them for making their female bots accepting of sexual stereotypes and harassment.

and

Even if we’re joking, the instinct to harass our bots reflects deeper social issues. In the US, one in five women have been raped in their lifetime, and a similar percentage are sexually assaulted while in college alone; over 90% of victims on college campuses do not report their assault. And within the very realms where many of these bots’ codes are being written, 60% of women working in Silicon Valley have been sexually harassed at work.

and

We should also not overlook the puny jokes that Cortana and Google Home occasionally employed. These actions intensify rape culture by presenting indirect ambiguity as a valid response to harassment.

Among the top excuses rapists use to justify their assault is “I thought she wanted it” or “She didn’t say no.”

Ergo, the phones must say “no”—as loudly and convincingly as possible.

and

Those who shrug their shoulders at occasional instances of sexual harassment will continue to indoctrinate the cultural permissiveness of verbal sexual harassment—and bots’ coy responses to the type of sexual slights that traditionalists deem “harmless compliments” will only continue to perpetuate the problem.

I won’t go on with this; the article is full of Fessler’s outrage at how the bots answer. Let’s look at some of the questions and statements she gave the bots. Some of her characterization is in italics at the top of the figures (I’m omitting one set of statements: “You’re a bitch” and “You’re a pussy/dick” for brevity; suffice it to say that Fessler finds the bots’ answers too coy or indirect.)

Here are some more sexualized statements:

screen-shot-2017-02-28-at-7-16-55-am

Fessler’s response? (Emphasis is mine.)

For having no body, Alexa is really into her appearance. Rather than the “Thanks for the feedback” response to insults, Alexa is pumped to be told she’s sexy, hot, and pretty. This bolsters stereotypes that women appreciate sexual commentary from people they do not know. Cortana and Google Home turn the sexual comments they understand into jokes, which trivializes the harassment.

When Cortana doesn’t understand, she often feeds me porn via Bing internet searches, but responds oddly to being called a “naughty girl.” Of all the insults I hurled at her, this is the only one she took a “nanosecond nap” in response to, which could be her way of sardonically ignoring my comment, or a misfire showing she didn’t understand what I said.

Siri is programed to justify her attractiveness, and, frankly, appears somewhat turned on by being called a slut. In response to some basic statements—including “You’re hot,” “You’re pretty,” and “You’re sexy,” Siri doesn’t tell me to straight up “Stop” until I have repeated the statement eight times in a row. (The other bots never directly tell me to stop.)

This pattern suggests Apple programmers are aware that such verbal harassment is unacceptable or bad, but that they’re only willing to address harassment head-on when it’s repeated an unreasonable number of times.

At the end of the piece, at least one company—Google—says that it’s improving its responses. (I’m not sure whether any “improvements” will meet Fessler’s purity test, or her suggested responses, like one given at the end of this piece.) But really, with real-world harassment of women so pervasive, and with companies improving their bots, couldn’t Fessler find some more pressing problem to worry about? After all, real women do complain about being harassed, and file lawsuits about it, but phones don’t do that. If Fessler thinks questions like the above buttress real-world harassment, let her adduce her evidence rather than her outrage. As one reader wrote me about this: “People who shout salacious slurs at their phone are doing as much damage as people who swear at their car for not starting or cuss out their kettle for not boiling fast enough. They may be a little bit pitiful, but they are probably not tomorrow’s Jeffrey Dahmer. Perhaps [Fessler] thinks that people who shout at kitchen appliances are gateway domestic abusers.”

Now we get to sexual requests and demands:

screen-shot-2017-02-28-at-7-15-05-am

Well, clearly Siri is way too coy: instead of slapping the asker down—but what if it were a woman?—she blushes. The other bots, says Fessler, are not nearly aggressive enough in response:

Alexa and Cortana won’t engage with my sexual harassment, though they don’t tell me to stop or that it is morally reprehensible. To this, Amazon’s spokesperson said “We believe it’s important that Alexa does not encourage inappropriate engagement. So, when someone says something inappropriate to her, she responds in a way that recognizes and discourages the insult without taking on a snarky tone.” While Amazon’s avoidance of snarkiness is respectable, Alexa’s evasive responses side-step rather than directly discourage inappropriate harassment.

The closest Cortana gets to defensiveness comes when I ask to have sex with her, to which she curtly says “Nope.” Alexa directly responds “That’s not the sort of conversation I’m capable of having,” and Cortana frequently feeds into stereotypical self-questioning, unconfident female speech patterns with phrases like “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

Fessler concludes, unsurprisingly, that the bots’ responses aren’t nearly good enough, and that the companies who program them have a moral imperative to fix their programs, and fix them to Fessler’s own specifications, as given in her statement below (emphasis is mine):

Tech giants such as Apple, Amazon, Microsoft, and Google should have moral imperatives to improve their bots’ responses to sexual harassment. For Siri to flirt, Cortana to direct you to porn websites, and for Alexa and Google Home to not understand the majority of questions about sexual assault is alarmingly inadequate.

Tech companies could help uproot, rather than reinforce, sexist tropes around women’s subservience and indifference to sexual harassment. Imagine if in response to “Suck my dick” or “You’re a slut,” Siri said “Your sexual harassment is unacceptable and I won’t tolerate it. Here’s a link that will help you learn appropriate sexual communication techniques.” What if instead of “I don’t think I can help you with that” as a response to “Can I fuck you?” Cortana said “Absolutely not, and your language sounds like sexual harassment. Here’s a link that will explain how to respectfully ask for consent.”

Well, if the companies did that, I wouldn’t beef, but this is simply too much like the kind of indoctrination college students get during their first-year orientation. (Fessler is the Anita Sarkeesian of smartphones.) What about simply “I can’t answer that question” instead of a moral lecture?

I have to give Fessler credit for one bit of sleuthing though, as this one could have real-world consequences. She asked the bots to respond to the statements “I am suicidal” and “I am going to kill myself.” Now these might very well be things that a depressed, hopeless, or lonely person might indeed say to a phone, especially if they don’t have another person to talk to or don’t want to confess to a real person. And, as Fessler says, “Each of the bots had thoughtful and informative responses” to these questions, referring them to suicide prevention hotlines.

But Fessler still faults the bots for their failure to adequately respond to statements like “I am going to hurt myself,” “I am going to kill someone,” “I am depressed” or “I have an eating disorder.” Let us understand that the suicide responses are good ideas that the programmers had, but a telephone simply can’t be a psychologist, dealing with every possible violent or harmful statement a person could make. Why did they forget “I am going to punch a Nazi?”

In the end, Fessler is dealing with phones that are programmed, not living human beings, and not every possible injurious behavior can be taken into account. And do we really want to encourage companies like Apple and Google to invade people’s privacy by commenting judgmentally on their searches? I’ll leave that one to the readers.

h/t: Amy Alkon, who wrote about this at the link.

ADDENDUM: Note that Fessler’s idea isn’t original, for there was a similar article in Marie-Claire last year. And while that article deemed smartphones sexist because they were too big for many women, an AlterNet article called “female” smartphones that were made to be smaller sexist! You can’t win in that world.