Boycott season is upon us. Facts arrive tomorrow, but the pitchforks are available for same-day pickup.

I’ve been thinking about cancel culture again, mostly because it seems to be making one hell of a comeback.

Every few days there’s another rumor, another boycott, another crowd gathering with pitchforks before anyone has bothered to check whether the village actually has a monster.

Maybe it bothers me because I’ve experienced a smaller, more personal version of it.

I know what it feels like to watch people form an opinion about you based on someone else’s version of events. To see people who had your phone number, had worked beside you, had called themselves friends, and had publicly preached about supporting local creatives suddenly decide they knew enough without ever asking you a single question.

No conversation. No curiosity. No interest in context.

Just a verdict.

I don’t expect blind loyalty from anyone. I don’t need people to agree with everything I say, believe, or do. But I once believed friendship earned you at least one honest conversation before the public execution.

Apparently, that was optimistic.

What stayed with me wasn’t simply losing support. It was realizing how conditional some of that support had always been. “Community” sounded beautiful until someone was handed an opportunity to choose a side, perform their outrage, and collect a little social approval in the process.

So when I see thousands of people ready to boycott a person or business based on a screenshot, rumor, or half-told story, I hesitate.

Not because accountability doesn’t matter. It does.

But accuracy matters too. Context matters. Asking questions matters. Remembering there are actual human beings underneath the version of events being passed around matters.

Sometimes the monster is real. But sometimes the village just enjoys carrying pitchforks... it's that whole misery loves company thing, and I'm not interested innit.