I genuinely feel for younger people, who will never have the pleasure of experiencing the unproblematic version of Rowling and her novels. For millennials and Gen Z kids like mine, there was once a golden era when you could just daydream all day about getting your invitation to Hogwarts without any associations with a full-time transphobe. Now, there's a new Harry Potter series coming to HBO, Rowling is busy tainting her legacy by gloating on social media about anti-trans legislation, and we have to decide what kind of relationship with the author's work is tenable for us. I don't believe we have to entirely give up Harry Potter to quit Rowling (nor do I suspect for many of us that's even possible) — but it is complicated. I have a degree in conflict resolution, and I know that when a person whose work you admire does things you really don't, it can — and should — create a moral conflict. But with some established negotiation tools, we can arrive at our own individual, ethical-ish criteria for engaging with controversial figures and their art.
Transformative mediation has been gaining traction in recent years, thanks to its more holistic, nuanced approach to conflict — and its understanding of the emotion that's so often baked into it. It diverges from traditional, arbitration-inspired models where there are ultimately winners and losers, right and wrong, focusing instead on reflection and empathy to create empowering outcomes. You can see the hallmarks of it in the reconciliation aspects of post-Good Friday Agreement Northern Ireland relations, or in how Sarah Sherman sensitively handled Aimee Lou Wood's criticism of her unflattering recent "White Lotus" sketch to resolve the problem.
