We Care Too Much About Media Representation

Graphics by Josephine Kim

Senior year of high school, I wrote my Common Application essay on the importance of diversity in media. I referenced my love for 2017’s Power Rangers movie, which featured four out of five leads of color, one of them a lesbian and another autistic; my longing for more people who looked like me in my favorite franchises; and my work on local diversity panels. An idyllic reflection of my hopes and dreams at the time, I liked what I had written. (Admissions officers seemed to like it, too, if my acceptance letters from CMU, Northwestern and Vanderbilt were any indication.) I was passionate and optimistic, excited to see where the movement would go. 

Four years later, the number of Asian characters in the MCU has finally expanded to double digits, with one of them even headlining their own solo movie. Parasite and Squid Game have seen great success internationally, and Disney animation continues their streak of “respectful” depictions of POC culture in Raya and the Last Dragon and Encanto. Marginalized people are being represented more than ever, and on the surface, it’s exciting. There's no happiness quite like seeing someone in the media who looks like you for the first time and feeling represented. People who might have otherwise felt alone and misunderstood can find comfort in the realization that they are not—that their experiences are valid. With all these wins over the past few years, I’m sure 17 year old me would not be disappointed.

But I am 22 now, about to graduate from college and enter the next chapter of my life, and my knowledge of the world and what the word activism actually means has changed significantly since I wrote that essay. I have survived through a pandemic, lived under several fascist presidencies, witnessed global movements for justice, and experienced firsthand the socioeconomic, environmental and mental damage capitalism has inflicted upon us. No longer am I impressed by the latest bisexual lead in X show or the disabled Pakistani girl in Y film. Rather, I see the movement for representation for what it ultimately is—a distraction. 

Many well-intentioned activists are under the impression that increased media representation can change the world. And maybe it can. But this has led to media representation being the end all, be all for activism. People focus so much time on advocating for diversity in Hollywood that they overlook more pressing issues that exist in the world. The next James Bond potentially being a black woman may be cool, but it does nothing to diminish the struggles real Black women encounter in the workplace, their high infant mortality rates, the misogynoir they face at the hands of their own men. The Colombian migrant worker remains a victim of imperialist exploitation by the West, even as Encanto makes millions at the box office. 

Additionally, praising Hollywood for “getting diversity right” provides the already privileged and wealthy a shield from criticism, one that they don’t even have to raise a finger to build themselves. We think, how can something be bad if it features marginalized voices? People see a diverse cast and then don’t care to look at other problems that exist. It’s a phenomenon I’ve noticed in particular with the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)—thanks to the past year’s releases, the Marvel universe now contains more women, POC and queer characters than ever. As a result, leftists cannot point out poorly written storylines, the ever-present military propaganda, or Disney underpaying their employees without being accused of being racist, or homophobic, or some other form of bigotry by rabid fans, who ignore the fact that these critics are often marginalized people themselves.

Take The Eternals, which currently sits as the lowest ranked MCU movie at 47% on Rotten Tomatoes, for example. I cannot tell you how many times I have rolled my eyes at people online who insist anyone that disliked the movie is racist. Their argument essentially boils down to ”how can you hate seeing people on screen who reflect the real world?” which, when you think about it, is deeply troubling. If a movie’s only saving grace is its diversity, then we should be demanding higher quality stories, not accepting the breadcrumbs we get. Plus: making the Black gay Eternal an aid to the Hiroshima bombings does not qualify as good representation, no matter how you spin it. 

However, this does not mean the MCU’s more acclaimed installments should escape criticism, either. As much as I personally loved Black Panther for its solid world-building and top-tier cast, I cannot ignore the serious flaws in its storytelling, which are problematic at best and nefarious at worst. The “radical” antagonist who wants to (rightfully) avenge Black people for the devastation of imperialism participates in imperialist activity of his own by serving in the US military, even going so far as to proudly tattoo each kill on his chest. Meanwhile, CIA agent Everett Ross gets affectionately deemed the bumbling token white guy, undermining the real damage the CIA has caused in Latin America and Asia. His act of shooting down Wakandan fighter jets as a white American is hailed as heroic, despite the fact that it mirrors several instances of colonial violence that have occurred throughout history. Of course, these problems are rarely spoken about, overlooked in favor of the film’s milestones in representation. It shows us that letting a conglomerate as big as Disney set the standards for diversity and receive praise for making the bare minimum effort is dangerous—we willingly give up our power as individuals, and as a result, become vulnerable to manipulation, to control, to propaganda.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that while wanting diverse media representation is not a bad thing, people end up putting too much emphasis on its importance and supposed impact. The truth of the matter is that advocating for representation in a capitalist construct such as Hollywood will never be radical, and there are other actions we can take, such as protesting, participating in mutual aid and calling out imperialist propaganda, that will ultimately benefit marginalized groups more than watching a movie ever could. I wish my 17 year old self had understood that, but I’m glad I do now.