Will silence help people listen in the fight against racism? 

As a stand up comedian the most horrifying and nerve-racking aspect of performing is the experience of an audience not listening. Comedians call it “dying on stage” but, trust me, it's much worse than that. My strategy to counter this humiliation comes from school. Some of my more intimidating teachers, when trying to get me and my unruly classmates to pay attention, would often just stand still and say nothing. A chill would descend on the room, and after a few moments, recalcitrant teens would reluctantly simmer down. It hasn’t always worked for me as a comedian, standing still and saying nothing, but on occasion a crowd has quietened down, especially if I employ a stern frown and a look of stoic indignation.

Standing still and saying nothing. Could the recent social media black out be considered as similar to this well worn educational strategy?

We, the social media users, go quiet, for four days, with patience and stern expressions, so that you quieten down sufficiently to hear the message that online hate will no longer be tolerated. Not a magic formula perhaps, but at least “a start”. Time will tell if it makes perpetrators think twice about posting online hate and social media companies do something to block it.

But some believe that actions like this mute conversations and silence voices that need to be amplified at such ‘enough is enough’ junctures in the life of society. 

“Why haven’t we dealt with this?” says Paul Canoville, Chelsea’s first ever black player and the latest guest on my podcast ‘What Was That All About?’

“This is what’s upsetting me: we’ve been talking about this, and talking about this, but nothing is being done. The governing bodies, the FA, the Premiership... we say we’re going to take action but nobody has done any action. To me this is a soft approach by boycotting social media.” I ask if he agrees with black-out?

“No, I don’t” he says.

 

Very few footballers at Chelsea achieved legendary status at the club in the 1980s. And Canoville’s legacy, both on and off the pitch, is unquantifiable. 

It’s a huge relief he can even talk, let alone do a podcast. Until a month ago he was in a coma for six weeks, after begging doctors to give him drugs to “put him to sleep for good” the pain was that bad from an illness that should have killed him. But now he wants to use his voice and speak out even more. Discussing racism and the social media black-out I can think of no one more appropriate to address it, his voice stands out as one of the most powerful we have. 

Himself the victim of brutal and relentless racist abuse from the moment he made his debut in April 1982 - from his own fans no less - Canoville is doing much in the field with his foundation and with Chelsea football club. His concern, understandably, is what happens when the blackout is over, and his conviction that racist abuse will simply flood back onto our platforms. Then what?

His suggestion is eloquent and uncompromising:

 “Governments need to fine the social media companies. They’ve not done enough. They’re allowing it to happen, they’re making money from it and it’s been going on for years.” 

He speaks with confidence, mimicking his old hot-headed self doing a pre-fight clarion call “camonen!” (come on then), he’s a charming and entertaining guest, no less because of the way he has striven to overcome the most devastating and dehumanising impact of racial abuse. I asked him “what impact did that constant racial abuse have on you?” He goes quiet and is unable to speak. Racism truly diminishes you. I see with my only eyes how it has eaten at his soul. “I’m angry. I’m disappointed it’s still with us. But I’m dealing with this by speaking out”. 

The abuse followed him for a full two years before his own team mate Pat Nevin publicly made an appeal for that section of fans, the racist ones who are no longer welcome at the club, to stop it. He shared with me that up until that point, no one at the club had asked him how he was, how he was coping. By the third year, it carried on despite heroics on the field, even scoring two goals in a famous night away to Sheffield Wednesday in a league cup quarter final in 1985 with Chelsea 3-0 down at half time. He came on as a substitute, scored with his first touch and his second, to put Chelsea 4-3 up, sent me into a screaming fit of such hysteria that I passed out. Yes, after Canoville scored the 4th, I lost consciousness. It was a moment no Chelsea fan will ever forget and etched his name in our hearts forever. 

But Canoville’s Chelsea was the 80s, a time when the expected response to racism was to keep quiet, not to give in to racists, to ignore them, and do your talking on the pitch. But also a time when skinheads ran amock beating up blacks and Asians indiscriminately and the National Front were handing out leaflets to fans outside Stamford Bridge before kick off. 

Now he believes it’s time to speak out. As should all victims of racism and abuse. He says staying quiet is never the answer. It certainly didn’t help him when lying awake at night thinking over games about what “I could have done to make them like me”. It didn’t help Anton Ferdinand either, seen recently on a BBC documentary about his high profile case in 2011 where he was the recipient of racial abuse. He, movingly, makes the observation that the impact of racism, on the victim first and foremost, is silence. If the victim speaks out they run the risk of repercussions. Sometimes it's a self-imposed silence, born out of fear, and lies at the corner stone of many mental health issues. In his case exacerbated by consistent online abuse. To be denied a voice is a travesty, to be forced into silencing one's self is a tragedy. 

What hurts Canoville now though is that on the surface, nothing seems to have changed. No one seems to have listened.

I share a story just to see what he thinks. As a comedian, I was once told by a comedy club owner in the 90s that I’d get a lot more work if I dropped my own name, did a photo shoot sporting a turban, pantaloons and a pair of curly toed shoes and called myself “Ali Baba, the Sultan of Comedy”. He gave the advice enthusiastically and meant no offence. For his world at least it was a statement of fact, and he was probably right. Canoville laughs. 

But he responds by bringing up Spurs’ appointment of a 29 year old as manager. He’s cagey and doesn’t want to mention his name and just references “Tottenham”.  He means Ryan Mason their interim manager. It transpires that after the sacking of Jose Mourinho, the existing coaching staff at Tottenham include two black ex England players, Ledley King and Chris Powell, who also happens to have ten years of experience as a manager at six different clubs. “Two black guys on the coaching staff. Why are they not the interim manager?” The point sinks in. “What kind of message does that send?”

The fact that it appears no one has noticed this - even friends of mine who are lifelong Spurs fans - means there is still a long way to go to raising the collective conscious where the oneness of humanity is not just an ideal we negotiate and try to agree on, it’s a given.

One thing the Super league episode in football has taught us is that fan power is more effective than we ever imagined. It even stopped Manchester United v Liverpool, one of the biggest games on the global football calendar. Word on the street is every remaining Man Utd home game this season will be targeted amongst other things, and will keep going on until the Glazers listen, get the message and leave. 

So surely we can apply the same principle to racism? Constantly we hear the term “enough is enough.” Canoville repeats it over and over. With Derek Chauvin in America being the first ever white policeman convicted for manslaughter in 150 years for killing George Floyd, surely this is a move in the right direction? 

I ask Canoville for his thoughts on whether the current  BLM chapter of the centuries long goal of raising of global consciousness about racism, will empower fans to self-police when they encounter racism both in and outside of stadiums? 

“Nah” he says. Not because people are timid. Some fans will. But while there is a fear that you yourself will be targeted for standing up to racists, it means they still operate and they still have influence. And that is what has to change. Canoville is not sure it will, but he’s sure as hell giving it a shot. 

I don’t know if silence works, but surely listening should? The social media black out that stood still at the front of the class doing nothing, might have encouraged us to simmer down. But we still need the capacity to concentrate on the lesson. We need to actually listen.

Maybe Canoville has a point. The governing bodies in football have been employing exactly this approach for decades. It hasn’t worked so far. We need a new strategy.

This is a rare opportunity to engage. Can the social media companies evolve into great listeners? More than that - can they evolve into great educators.

If they don’t, then these four days have just provided a nice social media break - a de-tox even. But maybe it’s time for them to give users the silent treatment. Maybe Facebook, Twitter and Instagram should shut down in stern and silent mode for four days? And like school children, maybe then we’d start listening. And when we are ready to behave, we can start the lesson.

End

 

Follow this link to Omid’s Podcast interview with Paul Canoville.