The Slap Heard Around the World: A Reflection on Society’s Selective Outrage
In 2022, when Will Smith slapped Chris Rock on stage at the Oscars, the world was momentarily thrown into a frenzy. The media storm that followed was intense, with countless op-eds, think pieces, and social media posts decrying the act of violence. Yet, as the fury over that slap raged on, something striking became clear: many of those who condemned Smith’s actions were conspicuously silent when it came to far more grievous instances of violence. I’m talking about the violence of police brutality against Black and brown bodies, the unchecked oppression that continues in the wake of systemic racism, and the horrors of genocide in Gaza.
It’s not that these issues are less important—they are, in fact, life-and-death matters that affect millions globally. But the fact that so many people who are quick to judge a slap on stage don’t show the same outrage for the violence happening on the streets, or abroad, says something troubling about how we, as a society, perceive and respond to violence.
A Selective Condemnation of Violence
Those who condemned Will Smith’s slap at the Oscars focused on the idea that violence—no matter the context—shouldn’t be condoned. It was an emotional response, and perhaps a warranted one for many who see violence as a disruptive force, one that breaks the norms of decorum. But there’s a larger question here: Why is it that some acts of violence spark such outrage, while others, particularly state-sanctioned violence, are met with silence, indifference, or even approval?
Take, for instance, police brutality. The deaths of Black men and women at the hands of law enforcement officers—whether George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, or countless others—are horrifying examples of violence. And yet, how many high-profile figures, celebrities, or even everyday people have remained quiet in the face of this ongoing crisis? How many politicians have failed to enact meaningful reform, despite the mounting calls for justice?
The disparity between the condemnation of the slap and the indifference to police violence demonstrates a larger truth: society is often selective in what violence it condemns, and for whom it reserves its outrage. Violence that happens in the public eye—especially if it’s committed by an individual or an easily identifiable aggressor—becomes a spectacle, something easy to judge. But the systemic violence—like the brutality that Black and brown people face every day—is often overlooked or justified. How many of us have been complicit in this silence, either by choosing not to speak up or by accepting the narrative that these injustices are the result of “bad apples” rather than a deeply entrenched system?
The War Hypocrisy
Now, let’s take this a step further. As we witness the unfolding crisis in Gaza, with reports of genocide and human suffering on a massive scale, we see much of the world remain largely passive. Politicians, influencers, and organizations may offer tepid statements of concern, but where is the full-throated condemnation of the violence? Where are the calls for real action, for accountability, for peace? In the face of war, how many of us—yes, even those who pride themselves on being compassionate—find ourselves justifying the violence of war in some form? This hypocrisy is deeply rooted in how we perceive certain acts of violence as “necessary” or “acceptable,” while condemning others as barbaric or out of bounds.
Even those who consider themselves progressive or anti-war often condone certain conflicts, using justifications rooted in nationalism, self-defense, or geopolitics. The wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and more recently, in Ukraine, have sparked much debate, but the approval or complicity in these wars, which lead to the death of thousands, often goes unchallenged. Why is the violence of state-sanctioned war met with understanding, while the act of violence from an individual, like the slap, is condemned as an unforgivable sin?
How We Need to Reframe Violence
What we need, as a society, is a deeper introspection into how we view and contextualize violence. Violence isn’t just physical—it’s structural, systemic, and often tied to power dynamics that favor the wealthy, the politically connected, and the historically dominant. It’s easy to condemn an isolated act of violence, but harder to challenge the systems that perpetuate violence on a daily basis. It’s easier to shout from the rooftops about one slap than it is to confront the uncomfortable reality of our complicity in larger societal issues, such as police brutality, war, and genocide.
So, the next time someone vehemently condemns Will Smith for his actions at the Oscars, or places blame on his wife, Jada Pinkett Smith, for allegedly “provoking” the incident, ask them this: Where do they stand on police violence? On the safety and security of Black and brown bodies in public spaces? Do they approve of the wars being fought overseas in the name of national interest, even when innocent lives are lost?
Exposing this hypocrisy isn’t about shaming individuals—it’s about starting a much-needed conversation. If we are to build a more just world, we must first reckon with how we pick and choose which violence to condemn and which to ignore. We must ask ourselves why we find it easier to judge a single slap, but can look the other way when entire communities are decimated by the forces of systemic violence.
Foreign Perspectives on the Slap
Finally, let’s turn our attention to how the world outside the United States views the slap. For many in the global South, issues like police brutality and the violence in Gaza are far more pressing than a celebrity altercation. Yet, what the international response can teach us is that people everywhere are aware of the double standards that exist in how violence is perceived. The global community is watching how we, in the West, choose to respond not just to acts of violence but to the broader forces that create these injustices.
The truth is, if we are ever to move towards a world of peace and equity, we must break free from the cycle of selective outrage. We must be willing to hold ourselves, and our leaders, accountable for all violence, no matter who the perpetrator is or what form it takes.
Let’s start by demanding consistency in our condemnation of violence. Let’s challenge the narratives that justify brutality, whether it’s on the streets of America, in the conflict zones of the Middle East, or in the name of political expediency. The time to demand a deeper, more thoughtful approach to violence is long overdue.
