Will Christian hipsterpreneurs save capitalism? (The answer may shock you.)

Patheos is a strange, cacophonous place, like a religious equivalent of BuzzFeed. Such circumstances often create fascinating spectacle.

One of Patheos' contributors, the Institute for Faith, Work & Economics, recently produced this piece on millenials, culture and capitalism, trying to underline alleged contradictions, seemingly in an effort to reconcile American youth with the Protestant work ethic.

It makes little sense to point out contradictions when considering phenomena that do not lend themselves to anything approaching an unbiased, unified interpretation. The expectation that social movements – let alone generations – are (or should be) ideologically or theologically coherent strikes me as misguided. Our irreducibly complex societal dynamics cannot be appropriately apprehended by such a naïve epistemology. The search for reductive coherence is especially problematic in a technologically-advanced secular context that allows for multiple non-congruent axiologies.

It is certainly not clear to me that there is any meaningful comparison to be drawn between the hipsters' ethos of Bourdieuan cultural capitalism (Christian or otherwise) and the charitable activities of million-dollar corporations. One might even suggest such practices are antithetical.

I could say that insofar as sophistication is understood to supersede conventional notions of capital/profit in the millenial ethic of consumerism, millenial ideology/theology does not actually redeem capitalism – certainly not integrally, at any rate. I could say that, but I would prefer not to express myself one way or another on the subject; doing so would mean venturing into the rarefied realm of sheer speculation. Judgments derived from unstructured observation and second-hand data are too much like foregone conclusions; I believe our intuitions regarding social reality deserve to be subjected to much more rigorous empirical testing.

The Bechdel Test + The Vito Russo Test + The π Index

I believe it is not scandalous to suppose popular imaginaries contribute to the shaping of social reality: consequently, inclusive representation in fiction should be a matter of consideration in criticism. I have decided to formalize my appreciation for diversity in the form of a variation on two popular sets of criteria (the Bechdel test and the Vito Russo test). Going forward, all of my reviews will feature a short section rating fictions between ♀ and ♀♀♀♀ based on the following standards (with each criterion being worth one ♀):

1. The fiction features a woman who "has a name," or who is "tied into the plot in such a way that [her] removal would have a significant effect."

2. This woman talks about something other than a man ...

3. ... to another woman ...

4. ... who also "has a name."

The answer as to whether or not a fiction passes the Bechdel test will therefore take one of the following five formats:

0, ♀ or ♀♀: Fail: this fiction does not explicitly represent women's voices or women's worlds.

♀♀♀: This fiction comes close to representing women's voices or women's worlds.

♀♀♀♀: Pass: this fiction stands out for its representation of women's voices and women's worlds.

I will also consider whether the fictions I review pass the Vito Russo test for LGBTQA-inclusiveness. I will be taking into account the following criteria, each worth one R.

1. The fiction features a character who is identifiably LGBTQA.

2. This character is not "solely or predominantly defined by their sexual orientation or gender identity."
3. This character is "tied into the plot in such a way that their removal would have a significant effect" (i.e.: the character is not there merely to support a heteronormative character's story).
4. Supererogatory: This character interacts with at least one other identifiably LGBTQA character; this criterion cannot be met if 2 is not also fulfilled.

And so: fictions will receive one of five possible R scores:

0 or R: The fiction is not explicitly LGBTQA-inclusive.

RR: The fiction is somewhat LGBTQA-inclusive.

RRR: The fiction is noticeably LGBTQA-inclusive. 

RRRR: The fiction stands out on account of its LGBTQA-inclusiveness.

Lastly, I propose to adapt the Vito Russo test to assess the representations of people of colour using the following benchmarks:

1. The fiction features a character who is a person of colour. Non-human sapients do not count unless the issue of their rights and/or integration factors significantly into the plot.
2. This character cannot be summarized by popular stereotypes about people of colour.
3. This character is "tied into the plot in such a way that their removal would have a significant effect" (i.e.: the character is not there merely to support a white character's story).
4. Supererogatory: This character interacts with at least one other person of colour; this criterion cannot be met if 2 is not also fulfilled.

I will grant one π for each criterion, for a possibility of five different ratings on what I have termed "the π index":

0 or π: The fiction is not explicitly PoC-inclusive.

ππ: The fiction is somewhat PoC-inclusive.

πππ: The fiction is noticeably PoC-inclusive.

ππππ: The fiction stands out on account of its PoC-inclusiveness.

I understand none of these yardsticks provide a perfect measure of inclusiveness: meeting most (or all) of the criteria does not automatically place a work above criticism – nor is a fiction which does not conform to any of these standards necessarily bereft of aesthetic merit. These tests can nevertheless be used to jump-start a critical discussion; nuances which cannot be summarized by a four-point scale will have to receive more detailed attention under the relevant heading. Furthermore, I prefer to err on the side of inclusiveness: if an interaction between significant women characters is not exclusively about men, it will score a ♀♀♀♀.

On "Shipping"

I have limited experience with the "shipping" community. I have to think that interest in non-heteronormative relationships will eventually result in better representation.

Unfortunately, there does seem to be a degree of exoticization of the non-heteronormative other on the part of certain audiences. It is perhaps not quite objectification -- it is understandable that such audiences would value those things on the level of mere aesthetics. Problems arise when the authorial process bends under audience expectations in order to perpetuate heteronormative essentializations of non-heteronormative character and behaviour.

This is why I appreciate fictions that undermine audience expectations with regards to relationships. I was perversely thrilled at how many people could not see Korasami as "a thing" because both characters had previously dated men. It was a teachable moment: a time to open their eyes to bisexuality and/or the fluidity of orientation. Sadly, I feel as though it will be some time before male homosexuality receives the same treatment, largely because the hetero-males who run culture feel much more threatened by gay men than by bi-women or lesbian characters whom they somehow still manage to objectify.

On the Subject of Angry Internets

I feel as though there must be such a thing as "legitimate outrage." Insofar as many traditions in our civilization perpetuate inequality, a "culture of outrage" might not be so bad a thing if it can lead people to take the step from discourse to action.

As Prof. Neil deGrasse Tyson's tweets have never victimized anyone, I fail to see how they might meet the criteria for "legitimate outrage."