We are What We Pay Attention To…And It Sure Feels Like Antisemitism Is Getting a Pass

In an attention economy like ours, what we pay attention to becomes what we endorse. We may strive to be deep thinkers, highly cultured, and sophisticated. Yet, we can’t help our eyes from drifting to those places of more base intrigue. People Magazine is far more widely read than War and Peace. CSPAN doesn’t get nearly the viewership as the Kardashians do during any given week. We use the term “media cycle” because there is a circular response: we vote with our eyeballs and get more of what we voted for in the past.

This past week, two things happened at the same time. It probably wouldn’t have piqued my interest if either happened alone. But because they happened in such proximity, I couldn’t help but put them together, trying to make sense of a pattern that was gnawing at the back of my mind.

First, the Dallas Mavericks of the National Basketball Association are well on their way to the NBA Finals, led by a career resurgence by point guard Kyrie Irving. Once a shining star for the Cleveland Cavaliers, Irving has been at the center of a maelstrom of conflict, drama, and controversy, most notably (at least for our purposes) his gleeful promotion of a documentary that included, among other things, Holocaust denial, classic antisemitic tropes, and accusations of Jewish Satanic behaviors. This did not prevent the Mavericks (formerly owned by Jewish mogul Mark Cuban) from signing Irving to a 3-year, $120 million deal that apparently is working out just fine for the team.

Meanwhile, this week, we also saw the release of the film Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, a continuation of the cinematic universe made famous by Mel Gibson. While Gibson does not appear in this movie (nor the previous film, Mad Max: Fury Road), it is unsettling to see the continued windfall for a franchise that can trace its origins to a man well-known for his antisemitism, bigotry, and homophobia. A new release like this will no doubt lead many fans to stream the original trilogy, furthering the royalties and notoriety of the original protagonist.

Maybe I’m particularly primed to notice the redemption arcs of unrepentant Jewish antagonists because of the climate in which we find ourselves today. Far too often, the historic experience of hatred and genocide that the Jews have had to endure has been swept aside, replaced with a demand for accountability from a public that hasn’t done their homework. 

In a “what have you done for me lately” culture like ours, it is baffling to see not only the Jewish people be held to an entirely different standard than the rest of the world but also to see those who were once canceled for their bigotry welcomed back into society seemingly with open arms.

This is not to say that accountability needs to lead to permanent exile. After all, repentance, teshuvah, is a fundamentally Jewish value. If either Irving or Gibson had ever sincerely apologized for their indiscretion, we might be having a very different conversation. 

But in both cases, the beleaguered stars refused to make amends, yet were both welcomed back into mainstream culture with very few expectations. Irving is being lauded based solely on his skills with a basketball, while Gibson was nominated in 2017 for an Academy Award for his directing of Hacksaw Ridge, even after a decade-long blacklisting from Hollywood. 

Over the past decade, we have been engaged in a long and complex discussion of the role of accountability in the public sphere. We have been forced to ask ourselves difficult questions about the nature of forgiveness, making amends, changing our behavior, and being willing to accept growth in others. 

Yet, I can’t help but feel exasperated by the cultural amnesia that leads us to so quickly forget about the harm that public figures cause the Jewish community. Are Irving’s skills with a basketball worth more than the harm he caused? Are Gibson’s movies good enough to overcome the hate he inspired? And more importantly, what does it say about our larger world community that we have forgotten to answer these questions in favor of easy access to entertainment? 

We become what we allow, what we validate with our attention. And, at least at this moment, it seems like antisemitism isn’t a crime worthy of our concern or accountability.

Austin Zoot is the Rabbi Educator at Valley Temple in Wyoming, Ohio.