I was going to post about learning disabilities and diagnosis bias, focusing on gender and race bias…and then Tuesday happened. On Tuesday morning, my mother and I got into a discussion about race and racism, which happens from time to time, and to say it ended poorly is…something of an understatement. But it made me think about how racism is perceived by society at large, so I decided to examine the ideas of racism and racial prejudice, and look at an example of casual racism in popular media.
On Tuesday, it was a morning like any other: my mother and I raced through our morning routine and leapt into the car, heading off to work and job-seeking activities. As occasionally happens, once we were settled in the car we began talking about popular media. The conversation began as a debate on grammar and word choice, and the impact they can have on a story; this particular thread ended in an impasse. I then moved the conversation along to casual racism in popular media, which my mother didn’t really appreciate. Things started to go south when my mother told me that she thought that I was being racist.
“You read into these things and see such horrible stuff…I think you’re the racist,” she said.
And so I said:
“I don’t think you understand what racism means, Mum.”
In retrospect, I probably could have phrased that better, but in my defence, it was 7.30 in the morning, and I’m not what you would call a morning person. To say my mother took my words poorly is a fair assessment, although to say she took them rather badly would probably be closer to the mark.
“I know what racism is,” she told me, voice shaking with rage. “You don’t know what racism is.” She then reminded me of two incidents of apparent racism from my family’s past: not committed by us, but perpetrated against us.
The first incident was the time my aunt Carole, then 16 years old, was called “white trash” by a Maori classmate. Carole was confident and quick-witted and immediately shot back with “black trash”. Despite her remarks being in response to a similar verbal attack, it was Carole alone who was disciplined by the Maori principal and teachers; the Maori girl who instigated the encounter got off scot-free.
The second incident was the time my mother, then seven years old, was punched in the stomach by a Maori girl for “being in the way” in the playground. After punching my mother, the Maori girl went and told their teacher that my mother had punched her, and my mother was hauled up in front of her predominantly Maori class by her Maori teacher and berated for something she didn’t do. The Maori girl did not get in trouble for her actions, despite being at fault.
“So don’t talk to me about racism,” my mother said, tears in her eyes. “And don’t talk to me about Doctor Who any more,” she added, “you’re ruining it for me, and what you say is boring.”
Oh, right, I forgot to say: this all began because of an episode of Doctor Who. Actually, it was two episodes: a two-part mini-arc in Series 4 of New Who, 4.08 Silence in the Library and 4.09 Forest of the Dead. The episodes were written by Steven Moffat, then one of the main writers, and – following the departure of Russell T. Davies at the beginning of 2010 – currently the show’s executive producer and head writer.
When I first began watching Doctor Who, I was largely impressed by Moffat’s work: some of my favourite episodes from Series 1 through 4 were penned by him, particularly 3.10 Blink. But for all that his episodes seemed well-done, there was always a lingering niggle of dissatisfaction that left me uneasy. This niggle prompted me to look harder at his episodes and at him, and the result of this scrutiny was me being particularly unimpressed by both his work and the man himself.
Both Doctor Who and Moffat’s other major project, Sherlock, have a surplus of both subtle and overt misogynistic, sexist, homophobic, and racist elements. Moffat has also made a great many casually sexist and queerphobic comments in interviews, on Twitter (before he deleted his account), and at convention panels throughout the years. He’s also proven he has no idea what decent representation for ABDGILPQTU+* characters actually means and its importance to queer people.
* Asexual and Agender, Bisexual, Demisexual, Gay and Genderqueer and Genderfluid, Intersex, Lesbian, Pansexual, Queer, Transgender and Transsexual, Undecided, + others on the gender and sexuality spectrum who are not cisgender or heterosexual.
But back to Silence in the Library and Forest of the Dead. Where is the casual racism that so frustrated me? And how is it so different from the incidents of my mother’s youth?
In Silence in the Library, we are introduced to two characters named Dave. One Dave is black…
4.08 Silence in the Library, 0:16.30 – Black Dave aka “Other” Dave
…and one Dave is white.
4.08 Silence in the Library, 0:13.52 – White Dave aka “Proper” Dave
Our first named introduction to a Dave is at 0:13.52 when we meet the black Dave, who introduces himself as “Other” Dave. He in turn introduces us to the white Dave, and explains that white Dave is the pilot, joined the expedition first, and is known as “Proper” Dave.
In case you didn’t catch it: this is it. This is the casual racism. Specifically, it’s these two labels: “Other” and”Proper”.
The terms seem innocuous enough. The characters were probably named for a laugh, and the labels chosen because hey, there needs to be some way to tell them apart. The problem, of course, lies in picking those particular terms.
Humanity’s most basic fear is fear of the unknown. In psychology, the unknown can be referred to as the other: that which is different to us, no matter how we identify that difference. Othering is the term used to describe the process of stigmatising a person or group of persons because they are unlike that which is considered the norm.
It’s important, at this juncture, that we take a step back and look at the difference between racism and racial prejudice.
There are many conflicting ideas about just how to define racism, and just who can be affected by it. Some people say that harassing a person based on their skin colour or nationality or ethnicity is racism, no matter what colour their skin. Other people say there is no way for a white person to experience racism, since white people from the West have held such a high level of power for so long in so many parts of the world.
In 1970, Pat Bidol first coined the idea of racial prejudice versus racism in Developing New Perspectives on Race; the idea was then popularised by Judith H. Katz in her book White Awareness: Handbook for Anti-Racism Training, published in 1978. Bidol and Katz define racial prejudice and racism like so:
Racial prejudice is being bigoted toward a person because of the colour of their skin, or their nationality, or their ethnicity. Racism is racial prejudice supported by a social framework that has been built upon that bigotry. Racial prejudice is specific, is one person and their hatred; racism is systemic, is society and its antipathy.
That isn’t to say that racial prejudice can’t be shared by more than one person, or displayed by more than one person at a time, because it absolutely can. Case (or cases) in point: my mother and aunt’s experiences as children. My mother and my aunt were both victims of racial prejudice, were both harassed and vilified by members of a different race because of the colour of their skin.
But my mother and aunt lived in New Zealand. They were white, in a society where the majority of the populace were white; where most of the politicians were white, and most of the laws had been written by white people to favour white people. Although neither of them sought conflict mediation from people higher up the education ladder than their school administration, it’s likely that, had they done so, education officials would have found in favour of my mother and my aunt. But had the shoe been on the other foot – if it had been my aunt who called the Maori girl “black trash” first, or my mother who had punched the Maori girl – and the incidents had been taken further, it’s less likely that the Maori children would’ve found support from education officials.
Racial prejudice is hurtful, there’s no denying it. Being singled out by someone, be it a peer or person of authority, and insulted and harassed because of the colour of your skin is horrible and demeaning. Racial prejudice can result not just in emotional and mental trauma, but physical trauma, too, in the form of hate crimes.
But the effects of racism are much more far-reaching and potentially devastating to a person of colour’s quality of life over the entire span of their lifetime. The effects of living in a society where a person is continually disadvantaged because of the colour of their skin include:
- Receiving a lower quality of education;
- Being misdiagnosed for learning disabilities or mental illness;
- Being unable to secure a job despite attending numerous interviews;
- Being unable to secure a loan, or being given a loan with too-high fees;
- Being denied medical treatment or pain medication;
- Being wrongfully profiled by police and falsely accused of crimes; and
- Not being believed when trying to report a crime against their person.
Forms of societal bigotry like racism depend on a group of persons being assigned the label of “Other”. With racism, in the Western world, the “Other” is defined as anyone not white. All of the above effects of racism stem from a white person or persons profiling a person of colour based on their race, and electing to treat that person of colour with less consideration than they would a white person. In our society, white people are treated better because white skin is considered normal, considered right, considered…proper.
By labelling the black Dave as “Other” and the white Dave as “Proper”, Moffat is reinforcing the societal framework of white people as “right” and people of colour as “wrong”. Do I think Moffat intentionally labelled the black Dave as “Other” Dave because of his race? Not necessarily. I mean, anything is possible, but I think it far more likely that Moffat subconsciously decided to label the character that looked most like him as “Proper”…which means he instinctively chose to define the person who didn’t look like him as “Other”, along all the attendant labels that “Other” implies.
The problem with that, of course, is that intentions are all well and good, but what is actually said and done carries so much more weight. Did Moffat mean to set up “Other” Dave as the Other? Probably not, but that’s what has happened. And though I don’t think anyone consciously picks up on something like that (not without looking for it, anyway), every person who watches those episodes is going to see that “Proper” Dave is white and “Other” Dave is black, and subconsciously internalise that message, carrying it with them and letting it – and every other casually, subtly racist message in popular and news media – inform their lives and interactions. Moffat could have chosen almost any other labels to identify them that could have been less potentially damaging, but chose to use “Proper” and “Other”.
“But Chantelle!” I hear you cry, “They’re just words! It doesn’t mean anything!” And I say to you: if that were true, then why do we bother with words at all? Words have power. Words have meaning. Words can make a person or break them, can build an empire or tear it down. And the fact that Moffat used this particular word, for this particular person? Says a lot about how Moffat (either consciously or subconsciously) views people of colour, and how our society views people of colour.
But you want to know the worst best worst part of all this? It’s the fact that naming both characters Dave at all was patently absurd.
There was literally no reason for Moffat to name both characters Dave, except so that he could use the labels “Proper” and “Other” to identify them. In fact, considering the show Moffat was writing for, that two characters in one episode would be called Dave is highly unlikely. I mean, it’s Doctor Who. The story of Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead was set in the 51st century (a time where humanity had spread far out across the cosmos),^ on a planet far, far away from Earth. The fact that all of the named characters were human (or human-looking) frankly beggars belief, but the fact that the salvage crew contained two humans named Dave? Is ridiculous. Looking at the names of the other characters – Anita, Charlotte Abigail Lux, Miss Evangelista, Lee, Doctor Moon, River Song, Strackman Lux – we see that Moffat has no problem coming up with interesting, individualised names. So naming two characters Dave was either lazy, a play for laughs due to the labels, or intentionally racist…or some horrible combination of the three.
^ One of New Who‘s favourite eras, bless.
Honestly, at this point, I’m not sure about Moffat: considering all of the horrible comments he’s made in the past, maybe he really is intentionally sexist and racist and homophobic, and just plays the oblivious act in an attempt to get away with it. He has continually resisted attempts by fans to educate him on these points, so it’s certainly possible, and even likely.
Whatever the case, following the final episodes of Series 7 of Doctor Who and Series 3 of Sherlock, I decided to stop watching both shows. I decided that I didn’t want to waste my time watching shows riddled with casual misogyny and racism and homophobia, not when there were so many fantastic shows out there. I haven’t been able to find a replacement for Doctor Who yet, but the TV show Elementary is vastly superior to Sherlock, and I strongly suggest any fans of Sherlock Holmes who are feeling disenchanted with Sherlock to give Elementary a go.
So there we are: the first post. Please join me next week for a discussion of learning disabilities and diagnosis bias.
Catch you later!
Chantelle
p.s. Made it in just under the wire in Los Angeles! Woohoo! The Time Zone Hop for the win!
