A journal for anonymous ‘controversial’ ideas will only fan the flames

We live in a time when certain words function as a kind of cover, as a vehicle for sometimes sinister purposes. The call for “freedom of speech” tends to be used as a demand for “freedom from consequence” for the speaker. Calling someone a “contrarian” is often a way of validating a professional bigot.

Subtext, rather than context, is everything. One of these new words is “controversial” and its derivatives. “Provocateur” is another. “Provocateurs” have “controversial” opinions that inspire “robust” debate. You see how there is no clue or indication as to the value, quality or intent of these ideas; their entire merit is that they are polarising. In this system, “controversial” has itself become an attribute that imbues an opinion with value. Not only is orthodoxy a bad thing in an advanced civilisation, this implies; it is boring. Controversial now means different, unique, titillating, perhaps even quite brave. It does not matter what idea travels in the controversy vehicle, it will be entertained. In fact, it must be entertained, because to do otherwise is to be politically correct and conformist and very likely resident in a bubble.

And so when it was announced this week that a Journal of Controversial Ideas is to be launched, one could be forgiven for hearing alarm bells. The authors will be anonymous, writing under pseudonyms because they feel that intellectual discussion is being hindered by a culture of fear and self-censorship. Jeff McMahan, professor of moral philosophy at the University of Oxford, and one of the organisers, said: “It would enable people whose ideas might get them in trouble, either with the left or with the right or with their own university administration, to publish under a pseudonym.”

There are many ways of describing this new journal; a sanctum away from the pitchforks of the mob; a place of amnesty where ideas can flourish without fear or self-doubt; a thought experiment. But essentially, it is a safe space, one where authors do not have to deal with feedback or criticism from those at the sharp end of their “controversial” ideas. It is publishing without the responsibility that comes along with that. It is all the things the zeitgeist condemns: thin-skinned, elitist, coddled, unable to engage in the hustle and bustle of the marketplace of ideas. Safe spaces have their virtues, specifically in allowing those who feel marginalised to congregate and share their experiences. But a host of academics with access to platforms who specifically want to publish papers they know will illicit a strong response does not exactly smack of persecution.

McMahan observes that this is all rather unfortunate but necessary as a response to the “spirit of the times”. But he gets the order of events wrong. The spirit of the times came second, in response to the controversy industry and its commodification of provocation.

By constantly pushing the envelope on inflammatory and divisive discourse, the fixation on controversy has turned the marketplace of ideas into a big brawl in a virtual public square. And it is a bipartisan industry, which has flourished by benefiting from the expansion of that public square into the online space. Controversy above all else, is lucrative. There is a reason why whoever funded the journal made sure the C-word was in the name. This is no demure academic exercise. We are all nudged towards it, either explicitly or by market forces, to flog columns, books and personal brands, regardless of the corrosive effect this has on the discourse or community relations.

A recent case in point is a debate entitled Is Rising Ethnic Diversity a Threat to the West?, which drew some flak for how it was framed. One of the participants, the Times writer David Aaronovitch, breezily defended it, writing: “Sure, one of the participants in the diversity debate has a book to sell and perhaps because of this the event was given a deliberately provocative title. But it only makes the argument explicit when it might otherwise have been implicit. That, surely, makes it easier to challenge? But by now the Twitter mob was in full cry.”

This is the spirit of the times. Throwing people under the bus in order to sell a book and then dismissing the reaction as the hysteria of a Twitter mob. The last stage is crucial in this setup. The reduction of criticism to social media hysteria in order to trivialise it (how else are people supposed to react? By sending letters through the post?) is followed by the assumption of the role of the victim, who will then set up an adjacent stall in the marketplace of ideas where they complain of censorship and silencing. At the end of this exercise the sanctification of the provocateur is complete.

What this planned journal fails to reckon with is that deliberately branding ideas as controversial and then publishing them anonymously does little to ameliorate polarisation, and continues a race to the bottom – where we provoke, recoil at the response, abhor it as overreaction, then rinse and repeat. There is a more noble pursuit for such academics than playing the part of a pawn in the controversy games, one where they can resist sharp branding and frankly rather dramatic resorts to fake noms de plume. No one enjoys the feedback that anyone with any public platform receives these days. You can engage with it or dismiss it, but you should not claim martyrdom and hide from it, especially if you are going out of your way to incite it.

• Nesrine Malik is a Guardian columnist