Birth of a ( Meme) Nation
In retrospect, San Francisco media executive Christopher Cukor probably wishes he’d taken the tearful pleadings of his son to heart.
Had Mr. Cukor listened to his little boy instead of the fear instinct that hijacked any semblance of media savvy he’s supposed to have as a requirement for his senior position at YouTube, he wouldn’t be the star of the latest installment of a uniquely American viral video series starring white people calling the cops on black people who “look out of place.”
Like “Permit Patty” and “BBQ Becky,” two fellow Bay Area would- be- snitchers that preceded him in media infamy by having their calls to the cops filmed by the indignant subjects of their call, Mr. Cukor operated in a sphere of privilege so elevated that he never considered the possibility that he would have to pay a steep price for being wrong, even after Wesly Michel promised him that he would be “the next” viral video sensation.
Mr. Cukor continued his interrogation even as he was dialing 911. Mr. Michel very sensibly reminded him that he was not obligated to answer any of his questions.
“Daddy, don’t, don’t,” the child says tugging at his father’s hand while trying to stop him from calling the cops. “Daddy, let’s go. I don’t like this. Please daddy, let’s go.”
Mr. Cukor blithely brushed off his son’s advice and calmly described Mr. Michel “who appears
to be African American” to the 911 operator. Mr. Michel, a software engineer of infinite patience, offered to stop filming Mr. Cukor and delete the footage if he put down his phone as well. The offer to de- escalate wasn’t accepted. Mr. Cukor arrogantly chastised Mr. Michel for using curse words in front of his son.
Within a minute, the woman Mr. Michel had come to see arrives at the building. It was a mortifying moment for Mr. Cukor’s son. “I told you, daddy! Look what you’ve gotten us into. Let’s go!”
Of course, Mr. Cukor continued to rationalize what he’d done even as his son dragged him away. He must have realized between smirks that his obscurity would end in a few hours and that his once quiet life had been casually “upended” by the dopamine rush that comes with calling the cops on black people who don’t deserve it.
Mr. Cukor is now a meme, and a sadly predictable one at that. That his folly can also be seen on YouTube, the site where he works, is one of those ironies that only the most pedestrian writers would even bother mentioning.
The video of Mr. Cukor’s July 4 encounter with Wesly Michel went viral because the software engineer was outraged enough to share it on social media, just as he had promised he would while filming it.
Mr. Michel’s indignation is understandable because everyone who lives in the real world knows that calling the cops to mediate a dispute between a black person and a white person, however minor, can end tragically if the cops get scared or feel disrespected.
And let’s be honest — the cops are going to feel more intimidated by a black person, whether armed or not, going in. African Americans, no matter how compliant, polite or soft- spoken, will be presumed guilty, which is why some white folks instinctively push their advantage by calling the cops even in the most banal situations.
Whites instinctively know that their testimony will be given the benefit of the doubt by the cops, a certainty that black Americans can’t begin to comprehend on an existential level. In the whole history of blacks in America from 1619 until today, not one black person has ever turned to a white American and said: “Let’s call the cops and have them settle this dispute fairly between us.”
Police arrive on the scene to reinforce the social order, not mediate disputes. They already have an inkling about how things are supposed to play out, so they’ll stick to that script, whatever it is, because that’s how they’re trained. That’s why those 911 calls are so cynical and infuriating. It’s a nuclear option that can conceivably end in a black person’s death for trivial reasons.
A few days ago, Mr. Cukor, who deleted all of his social media accounts after a deluge of online condemnation, posted on Medium what he considered essential context about his confrontation with Mr. Michel.
He wrote that because his father had been murdered outside his home by a trespasser a decade ago, that made him doubly suspicious of strangers, whatever their racial background.
Mr. Cukor also conceded that “there is a terrible pattern of people calling authorities regarding people of color for no other reason than their race.” He added: “The last thing I ever intended was to echo that history — and I’m sorry my actions caused Wesly to feel unfairly targeted due to his race.”
While it’s easy to sympathize with the roots of Mr. Cukor’s fear of strangers, that isn’t an excuse for adding to the nation’s unconscionably long history of racial bias. Black folks are processing trauma, too — much of it caused by people like Mr. Cukor. Keeping track of white trauma on top of black trauma certainly brings new meaning to the term “double consciousness.”
Mr. Cukor’s son deserves the last word for being wise beyond his years when he said: “Daddy, I don’t like this, don’t do this. I agree with him. Don’t do this, please.” That’s moral clarity for you. Sometimes, as Wordsworth said in another context: “The child is father of the man.”