On Bullshit (and Furries)

by Pres. James

“Wait... you’re a furry?”

My friend visibly recoiled with the question, a friend who had hung out with me for months at college and gamed online with me for years before that. Was I going to lose a friend over something so stupid?

I had to say something, “Well, yeah, but it’s okay! I’m not one of the creepy ones!”

Oof. Yup, that just came out of my mouth. Insert a mental facepalm here. I knew someone well enough to potentially change their mind, and that's how I chose to represent all my furry friends.

Thanks, brain. Thanks for that.
(image by jahofker)

I unintentionally found the furry community when I was fairly young, through a high fantasy chat room I discovered back in the early, early days of the internet. The community has been a part of me for quite some time, just as I’ve been a part of it. I’m a well rounded individual with friends from both within and without that particular fandom, as are most of the other furries I meet.

The community tends to draw a younger crowd, which unfortunately creates something of a self-perpetuating cycle. New furries inevitably run into the harassment that suffuses the net, and react strongly. Bullies and trolls love to get under someone's skin so easily, giving them incentive to continue the harassment.

Eventually, furries tend to split off into one of two crowds. Those who stay learn to simply laugh it off and enjoy what they’ve found. The others leave the community because the harassment becomes too much. I had one friend disappear for just that reason, lost to the internet forever.

In case you've been living in a monastery, or somewhere only serviced by Comcast, you're already aware that furries have something of a PR problem.

As Aine referenced in her April article through this xkcd
comic by Randall Munroe (CC BY-NC 2.5)

 

Okay, less of a PR problem, and more that we’re the people the internet loves to hate. Although the comic is from half a decade ago, the stigma persists. The constant reminders of what the "world" thinks can become internalized, as you can see from, "I'm not one of the creepy ones."

But, you start to think - even if subconsciously - that even if you and your friends aren't this way. But what about the rest of the community? They must be "the creepy ones." Why else would everyone continue harassing us? People keep saying "stereotypes exist for a reason."

Which is bullshit, of course, but that’s human psychology for you.

So while I am many things – a GSM, a member of the kink community, a hacker – the thing I’m most reluctant to reveal is that I’m a furry. I don't make a big deal about it, and when it comes out, it comes out. The most common response is, "But you seem so normal." The comment isn't meant to be malicious, but it's certainly not a compliment.

The xkcd shows tolerance of those who are "weird as hell"
rather than full acceptance of an unfamiliar subculture.
(image credit unknown, email the editor if you own this image).

Lately, things have been getting easier for furries. Is it that people are becoming more accepting? Is the furry community more visible because we've grown so much in the past years? Could normalization be due to increased visibility?

Nope. Unfortunately, it seems the heat has been taken off of the furries, because the internet’s new favorite target is bronies. I've even seen some furries celebrate, happy that there’s finally someone that the internet hates more! And that, my friends, is also bullshit.

As with most "Minority in Geek" articles, it's tempting to close with, "Look. We’re all geeks." Geek culture should unite us because, to quote Simon Pegg, "it means never having to play it cool about how much you like something." This time it's deeper than that. As a decent person, when you see another being harassed, your reaction shouldn't be, "at least it's not me." But even that is too simple.

The problem isn't only the bystander mentality of "at least it's not me;" it's complicated with the stigma of confronting one of our own. In some ways, geeks (and furries) are starting to battle a serious challenge of being an accepting community. And it's that while being accepting and inclusive is wonderful, it creates an environment where toxic people are difficult to remove. People want to be accepting, so "that guy" or "the creepy dude" are left without anyone willing to confront them, which may be why Captain Awkward gets so many letters about them.

I'm sure someone else has said something
about his "creepy dude" vibe...
(image by Terry Robinson)

Meanwhile, furries are caught in all the crossfires. The community is so accepting that creepers are left alone to smear our reputation. We've stood alone for so long against constant harassment that many furries feel no need to step up to defend bronies. All the while, we're busy hiding or downplaying an entire facet of our identity to everyone not involved, which is especially frustrating because these problems are in no way unique to the furry subculture.

Instead of having young geeks and furries learn that in order to join your community, you must have sufficiently thick skin to avoid getting harassed, can we admit that we do have bullies within our all-inclusive geek culture? Can we learn when that tolerance has gone too far, admit when someone has taken advantage of our acceptance, and gather the courage to confront even other geeks?

Because right now, we have geeks being flamed to pieces online and yet they still feel it's worth it to remain closeted to their other geek friends. It can feel that because your harassers are other geeks, there's no guarantee that your friends would take your side. The "I'm a furry/brony" admission is so uncomfortable and stigmatized that it's often just simpler to face a flame war alone.

And that's bullshit.