The Toxicity of Cancel Culture: When Does Accountability Cross the Line?
The recent controversy surrounding stand-up comedian Pranit More and his ₹370 biryani remark has sparked a heated debate—one that goes far beyond a single joke or a misplaced laugh. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it exposes the double-edged sword of accountability in the age of social media. On one hand, we’ve seen a necessary push for consequences when public figures make offensive remarks. On the other, there’s a growing sense that the pendulum has swung too far, turning accountability into a form of public shaming that rarely allows for redemption.
The Incident: A Spark in the Powder Keg
Let’s start with the facts, though I’ll keep them brief because, frankly, the details are less interesting than what they reveal about us. During a show, an audience member, Himanshu Jangra, shared a story about spending ₹370 on biryani during a date and expecting a ‘return on investment.’ Pranit laughed it off, and the crowd followed suit. The clip went viral, and the backlash was swift. FIRs were filed, apologies were issued, and the internet became a courtroom where Pranit was tried, convicted, and sentenced to endless scrutiny.
What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about a joke gone wrong. It’s about the culture we’ve created—one where a single misstep can lead to a digital lynching. Personally, I think the outrage was justified to a point. The remark was problematic, and Pranit’s failure to challenge it was a lapse in judgment. But here’s where it gets complicated: when does holding someone accountable become a form of cruelty?
Tanya Mittal’s Take: A Voice of Reason?
Enter Tanya Mittal, Bigg Boss 19 contestant and, in this case, a voice of unexpected clarity. Tanya didn’t defend Pranit’s actions—she made it clear she doesn’t endorse them. But she did something rare in today’s cancel culture: she called for empathy. ‘Galti insaan se hoti hai,’ she said, reminding us that mistakes are human. What this really suggests is that we’ve lost sight of the difference between accountability and vindictiveness.
In my opinion, Tanya’s stance is a breath of fresh air in a landscape dominated by black-and-white thinking. She didn’t excuse Pranit’s behavior, but she questioned the relentless toxicity of social media. ‘After a certain point, we need to think about whether social media is becoming too toxic,’ she said. This raises a deeper question: Are we more interested in justice, or are we just looking for someone to punish?
The Psychology of Cancel Culture
If you take a step back and think about it, cancel culture is as much about the canceller as it is about the canceled. It’s a way for us to assert our moral superiority, to feel like we’re on the right side of history. But what happens when the line between justice and vengeance blurs? One thing that immediately stands out is how rarely we ask ourselves: What’s the end goal here? Is it to teach a lesson, or is it to destroy someone’s life?
A detail that I find especially interesting is how quickly we forget that public figures are, well, people. Pranit’s family, his reputation, his mental health—these are all collateral damage in the quest for righteousness. Tanya pointed this out eloquently: ‘Itna karo ki aaj uska parivar bhi samaj me reh paye.’ In other words, let’s not forget that there’s a human being on the other side of the screen.
The Broader Implications: Where Do We Draw the Line?
This incident isn’t just about Pranit or Himanshu. It’s a symptom of a larger trend—one where the internet has become a modern-day Colosseum, and we’re all spectators hungry for blood. From my perspective, this is a dangerous path. If every mistake becomes unforgivable, if every apology is met with skepticism, what incentive do people have to grow?
Personally, I think we need to rethink how we approach accountability. Yes, call out harmful behavior. Yes, demand better from public figures. But let’s also remember that redemption is a powerful tool. If we don’t allow room for growth, we’re not just failing the individual—we’re failing ourselves.
Final Thoughts: A Call for Balance
As I reflect on this entire saga, one thing is clear: we’re at a crossroads. Do we want a society where mistakes are met with understanding, or one where they’re met with destruction? Tanya Mittal’s intervention reminds us that empathy isn’t weakness—it’s a necessity.
In my opinion, the real lesson here isn’t about biryani or bad jokes. It’s about how we treat each other. If we can’t find a way to balance accountability with compassion, we’re all going to end up in the firing line sooner or later. And that’s a future I, for one, don’t want to live in.
So, the next time you’re about to join the mob, ask yourself: Am I here for justice, or am I just here for the spectacle? The answer might surprise you.
