The Critic

I don't have much empathy for critics. Inspectors are a different story. If someone is hired to determine whether some food, product, or service is safe, then I want them to do their job thoroughly. Likewise, whistle blowers who alert us to dangerous practices or conditions are to be commended.

But critics provide little actual utility. 

You didn't like that play? Okay. Stage a production of your own play, and we'll decide for ourselves how much you actually know about the theater. Do a few song and dance numbers so we can compare your abilities to those of the actors that you just trashed.

Didn't like that movie? Fine. Let us read YOUR screenplay. Act out a few scenes and show us how much talent you have.

Don't care for that restaurant? Brilliant. Open your own place. We'd love to sample your best recipes.

Think the quarterback just cost your team the game? Fantastic. Let's see you find the open receiver after getting knocked down a few times by a 265-pound linebacker.

Critics are parasites. They ride on the backs of others, others who dare to attempt great things despite the risk of humiliation and spectacular failure. What risks does the critic take? What great objectives are they attempting to accomplish with their biting remarks? How does the critic justify his or her existence? What services do they provide to society? Or are they serving their own self interests?

Copyright © 2015 Daniel R. South 

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