I started watching Louis C.K. my sophomore year of high school.
A click on the “recommended” section of YouTube led to binge-watching popular stand-up clips before I finally took the initiative to view Louis’ special in its entirety.
This was my introduction to the world of stand-up comedy.
Louis C.K., along with the other predominantly male comedians I would watch, was often explicit and sometimes offensive. I was too naive to think twice about his content or fully understand its implications.
My stand-up comedy consumption expanded exponentially, and as I matured I noticed the unnecessarily sexual nature of certain acts.
Even then, I brushed off sexual objectification as something that “is what it is”. I thought the controversial content was an arbitrary sacrifice in the name of good humor. I thought its offensiveness was conducive, even necessary, to elicit a proper response. I even believed that good stand up comedy should be offensive and that people who aren’t comfortable with being uncomfortable should watch Disney Channel instead.
Then, on Thursday 11/10/17, an iPhone notification for Time Magazine informed me that “Female Comedians Say Louis C.K. Masturbated in Front of Them Without Their Consent.” Although Louis C.K. was only one name in a growing list of Hollywood stars exposed for sexual misconduct, he was the first accused offender I had been a fan of.
My first response to the article was that of un-acceptance. I thought maybe the headline was click-bait, and the issue wasn’t that bad. I reasoned the women’s stories could have been over-exaggerated or misconstrued. However, according to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, the false report rate for sexual assault is only 2-8%.
As I read through the victim’s testimonies, I realized the issue was, in fact, that bad.
The comedian I had been a fan of since my sophomore year of high school and now my sophomore year of college was, whether he realized it or not, a misogynist.
Louis’ comedy, unsurprisingly littered with jokes about his masturbation issues, was not innocuous. It did not hold the loftier purpose of exposing fragile masculinity. It was a manifestation of his own behavior, and I had been an unwitting consumer of it.
Therefore, blaming misogyny on all the Louis C.K.s, Kevin Spaceys, and Harvey Weinsteins of the world merely touches the surface of a much larger issue.
After all, why did I, a female and self-proclaimed feminist, allow my desire for enjoyable comedy overcome the red flags I saw in its content?
Why was I un-bothered by jokes about anonymous women when it hurts to think of what it must feel like to be publicly spoken of in such manner?
I thought my neutrality to offensive comedy was edgy or unique when it did no more than contradict the progressive ideals I held so strongly in theory. I thought my ability to ignore personal offense was an admirable trait that separated me from other liberals when it was at best problematic and at worst hypocritical.
It’s no wonder then that rumors about sexual misconduct take years to confirm.
After all, how can the sexually abused make such a well-respected individual accountable for his actions when their allies support them so passively?
Although our society has come a long way in regards to gender equality, it negatively stigmatizes active feminism by labeling its advocates as “femi-nazis” and “snowflakes.” As a result, the exploitation of women is often overlooked until it is too late. This is the most disturbing part of the paradigm.
It’s been over a week since the notification about Louis C.K.’s misconduct appeared on my phone, and since then he has admitted to and apologized for the allegations.
Although his apology is too late and too small to make up for his actions, it is a reminder that respecting women is a mindset not only Louis C.K. but all of us need to progress towards.
Words – even humorous ones – are powerful, and although an offensive comment may be “just a joke,” it creates a platform for behavior that is irreversibly harmful.