“I’m a little bit sleepy tonight but when I wake up I’m going death con 3 On JEWISH PEOPLE,“ said Kanye West in an October 2022 tweet.
That sentence — erratic, hateful and unmistakably dangerous — should have been a breaking point, but it wasn’t. Kanye’s music kept streaming and his fanbase stayed large. His cultural relevance, though shaken, endured. Kanye West is a troubling reminder that when it comes to artists, society still makes room for forgiveness if the soundtrack is good enough. After all, in the words of devout Ye fans: “he made Graduation.”
Kanye is hardly an isolated case. Michael Jackson’s legacy endures, moonwalking through wedding dance floors and Spotify playlists, despite harrowing abuse allegations. Woody Allen is still defended by some as a cinematic genius. Roman Polanski remains lauded in certain film circles and J.K. Rowling’s books continue to fly off shelves, even as her anti-trans rhetoric alienates swaths of her once-loyal fan base. Each time we ask ourselves, can art be separated from the artist?
That answer depends on what we believe art is. If art is merely a product, like a toaster or a toothbrush, then maybe personal ethics don’t matter. But the widely accepted belief is that art carries meaning, cultural weight and the power to shape minds and movements — so creators do matter. An artist’s values seep into their work, whether overtly or subtly. It’s an extension of their beliefs and their influence.
“An artist chose to make that piece of art because of what they believe in,” said junior Anna Gubman. “It might not be a personal experience, but biases [and values] are obviously shown in art, whether or not you agree or see those biases.”
To consume that art is to engage with that reflection. Take sculptor Eric Gill: his figures often appear serene and spiritual. But after his death, his diaries revealed horrific details — incest, sexual abuse, bestiality. Suddenly, that calmness feels unsettling. His recurring depictions of young, nude female figures lose their innocence and become exploitative. The work itself hasn’t changed, but knowing who made it changes how we see it.
A painting by Pablo Picasso, whose views on women are complex and often misogynistic, can be interpreted in various ways. It might be seen as a critique of feminism or appreciated for its aesthetics. In this sense, the viewer might detach the art from the artist’s views and focus on its form, technique or emotional impact.
However, continuing to support this art still indirectly perpetuates the harm caused by the artist’s behavior. Some fans insist, “I don’t care about the artist, I just like their art.” But that’s the problem. Liking the art supports morally compromised creators. For living artists, every stream, view and ticket sale profits their actions and enables harmful behavior.
Even when artists are dead, the problem persists. Their estates, families and the companies profiting from their work keep the money flowing. The art lives on, and so do the harmful ideologies tied to it. When controversial figures are celebrated posthumously, it shapes how society views their actions. It sends the message that their behavior isn’t truly harmful or significant, which can affect how others behave or are treated in similar situations. This actively reinforces the power structures that enable predators, abusers and bigotry to thrive and even gain power under the illusion that “art is separate.”
“The [government] was going to arrest Roman Polanski, a serial rapist, but he fled to Paris,” Gubman said. “While all that was going on, he won an Oscar for ‘The Pianist’ … People are getting away with it while being rewarded the highest achievements in their profession. Disgusting human beings don’t deserve to be treated like heroes.”
Pretending otherwise is naive at best, complicit at worst. Consumers have a responsibility to consider the ethical implications of the creators they support, as it is a choice and it reflects what society tolerates and rejects.
Imagine reading a novel or listening to music by an artist who has been accused of causing real harm — such as abuse or exploitation. Is it possible to truly engage with the work in a purely neutral way, without considering the harm associated with it?
Society must engage critically with art, acknowledging its artistic qualities while also recognizing and discussing the harm that the artist caused. However, this approach must be consciously implemented when consuming art by morally compromised creators.
“It’s different to listen to music in your car than to outwardly support an artist and their actions, especially if their work doesn’t reflect their actions,” said senior Adrienne Nguyen. “My mom and I actively listen to Travis Scott, but we don’t let my little brother buy any of his merch[andise], because of his concert [with] all the mosh deaths.”
Kanye West didn’t just make a mistake; he must be held accountable. He used his massive platform to spread antisemitic rhetoric, praise Hitler and promote toxic conspiracies. His defenders were quick to minimize his actions, contextualizing them with references to his bipolar disorder or past genius as if either could excuse bigotry. Yes, he made “Graduation,” but mental illness doesn’t justify hate and brilliance cannot shield hateful ideology.
Many people also say, “If we cancel every bad person, we lose all the great art.” But the idea that problematic figures must be “cancelled” in order to preserve art misunderstands the fact that art can be both brilliant and flawed. In fact, engaging critically with art — considering both its aesthetic value and the moral complexities of its creator — can lead to a deeper, more meaningful experience: this way, we can engage with both the art and the artist, without blind idolization or uncritical consumption.
Ultimately, whether we can separate the art from the artist is a moral and societal issue, not just a personal choice. As consumers, we actively support the systems that sustain art. By backing an artist or their work, we’re endorsing their values, intentionally or not. The solution isn’t to cancel every problematic figure or reject all flawed art, but to engage critically, recognizing both its strengths and its flaws. This way, we honor the art while holding creators accountable, ensuring that our cultural landscape reflects values we can stand behind.
