Not everyone can get a press pass. But when F1 markets proximity as proof of worth, it cannot act innocent about the scramble to get close.
Formula 1 sells proximity. Journalism pays the price.
The paddock is supposed to be a workplace. F1 sells it like a dream.
I wrote about that — and about what happens when a sport turns access into aspiration and blurs journalism with branding.
This week’s FaceTime is a love letter to journalism and an analysis of paddock access, creator culture, and the way F1 keeps marketing closeness as proof of worth — then acting scandalized when people start chasing it.
It’s also a love letter to the press. Not everyone deserves a press pass — but everyone can work towards getting one. And influencers shouldn't be shamed for thinking they count as "media" when the F1 machine wants us to.
The tone, in media and politics, is far too restrained for our current emergency
Margaret Sullivan at American Crisis:
Jamelle Bouie gets it. The New York Times columnist wrote something a few days ago that stood out to me because it was so directly stated and so horrifyingly correct.
It began: “Even if anyone had elected Elon Musk to anything, the past week would still be one of the most serious examples of executive branch malfeasance in American history.”
Bouie went on: “Musk has seized hold of critical levers of power and authority within the federal government, apparently enabling him to destroy federal agencies at will, barring congressional action or judicial pushback.” The piece was titled, “There is No Going Back.” Here’s a gift link. Read it in full and weep for what we’re losing, day by day.
But Bouie’s sense of alarm, well founded as it is, is strangely rare in Big Journalism these days.
Witness, for example, a piece last week by Jason Willick, a regular opinion columnist at the Washington Post, who wrote something titled “Save the panic over Trump’s ‘power grabs.’ It might be needed later.”
Calm down, Willick counseled, mocking the idea that a coup is underway, and concludes that, instead of having what he calls a “meltdown,” everyone should just wait and see. Why? Because, he argues, casting Trump and Musk’s early moves as a constitutional crisis “will diminish the force of such warnings if they are needed.”
Willick was appropriately blasted in the reader-comments section: “This sycophantic, willfully delusional apologia for the dismantling of the American republic and the shredding of the constitution … is contemptible sophistry of the very worst kind,” said one. Read Willick’s column, if you have the stomach, and judge for yourself; here’s a gift link.
Overall, the tone in the major media is much more like Willick than Bouie.
For example, the popular Times newsletter, The Morning, offered this tepid headline one day last week: “A Constitutional Crisis?” Then it considered the question from various angles, including only one quote from a lawmaker — Republican senator Thom Tillis of North Carolina who notes that what Trump and Musk are doing “runs afoul of the Constitution in the strictest sense,” but “nobody should bellyache about that.”
As Jamelle Bouie put it in the column I mentioned above, no question mark is appropriate here. In fact, calling what’s happening a constitutional crisis “does not even begin to capture the radicalism of what is unfolding in the federal bureaucracy.”
[...]
Righteous indignation like that is hard to come by. That’s why I wrote a Guardian column last week about two new-generation Democrats who have become strong voices: Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett of Texas and Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut. I quoted political consultant Sawyer Hackett: “There’s been no better messenger in the first two weeks of Trump 2.0 than Chris Murphy. At a time when too many Democrats are afraid of their shadow, Murphy is showing how to fight back with a compelling populist message that should be a blueprint for the Democrats moving forward.”
My Guardian editor asked me to include a paragraph at the end about what’s giving me hope right now. You can read that, and the rest of the column, here.
Margaret Sullivan is spot-on: Our press needs righteous truth-telling during these constitutional crisis times.
US Open broadcasters have been asked not to show any negative crowd reactions to Donald Trump at Sunday’s men’s final
PA Media at The Guardian:
US Open broadcasters have been asked not to show any negative crowd reactions to Donald Trump at Sunday’s men’s final.
The president is expected to attend the match between Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz in New York, with security at Flushing Meadows being heightened in preparation.
Trump used to be a regular visitor to the US Open but has not been to the tournament since 2015, a year before he was elected president for the first time, when he was booed by spectators.
An email sent to broadcasters by organisers reveals that the 79-year-old will be shown on screen during the singing of the national anthem ahead of the match.
The message adds: “We ask all broadcasters to refrain from showing any disruptions or reactions in response to the president’s attendance in any capacity.”
Broadcasters of the US Open final have been dictated to not air any boos or negative crowd reactions to the presence of Donald Trump at the US Open final. This edict is anti-American insanity to avoid showing the reactions to the presence of a fascist pedophile.
The Censorship Trap: Why Proshipping Belongs in Fandom Spaces
Censorship never begins with book burnings. It begins with discomfort. A scene that unsettles you, a pairing that challenges your sensibilities, a work of fiction that you feel shouldn’t exist and then a call to remove it “for the greater good.”
But the truth is stark: censorship is a slippery slope, and once you justify silencing one creative expression, you’ve justified silencing them all. This is why proshipping — fandom’s broad label for supporting the right to create and explore any ship, even problematic or taboo — is not just a niche opinion. It’s a bulwark against moral absolutism and authoritarian thought-policing.
The Misunderstood Defense of Fictional Freedom
Proshipping is often painted as advocacy for the problematic content itself. When in reality, it is advocacy for the right to depict it without censorship. It is not an endorsement of harmful actions in real life, but an insistence that fiction be allowed to explore dark, uncomfortable, and morally ambiguous territory without creators being doxxed, harassed, or blacklisted. Just as fiction can include murder, war, betrayal, or abuse to tell a compelling story, it can also include controversial romantic dynamics that reflect, distort, or subvert real experiences.
The core argument is simple: fiction is not reality. The exploration of disturbing or taboo topics in fiction is not a gateway to real-world harm, but a vehicle for catharsis, criticism, or even creative experimentation. To ban certain types of ships or themes because they make you uncomfortable is to deny the beauty of human imagination and to assume that your moral compass should govern others.
Censorship Is Never Neutral
The danger of content policing is not just that it silences one ship, one kink, or one work. It sets a precedent. If problematic fiction must be purged because it offends some sensibilities, what happens when wholesome fiction offends others? Should we ban depictions of traditional marriage because it excludes queer people? Should we remove every strong mother character because someone had a toxic mother?
If we let discomfort become the measure for what is allowed, we quickly lose all cultural nuance. Discomfort is personal, not universal. It cannot be the basis for objective censorship because no two people are disturbed by the same things.
Once you open the door to banning fiction that offends you, you give others permission to ban fiction that comforts you. That is the trap.
The Real Harm Is Harassment, Not Fanfiction
The anti-proship movement often claims it is protecting minors or survivors, but the reality is, this rhetoric often conceals and enables harassment. People are harassed, outed, fired, or even threatened for drawing or writing fictional scenarios. Creative freedom is sacrificed in the name of online purity tests, and fandom becomes less about shared joy and more about surveillance and shame.
Survivors are not a monolith. Some may be hurt by content others find cathartic. Some, such as I, may write “dark” fanfiction as a way to process trauma. It is deeply condescending to assume all survivors want the same thing or that they need to be shielded from art as if they cannot make decisions for themselves.
True advocacy means defending the agency of everyone, including those who use fiction in ways you wouldn’t.
Let Fandom Be Wild and Free
Fandom has always been a space for the strange, the subversive, and the self-indulgent. From the early days of slash fic to today's proship communities, fandom thrives when creators are allowed to explore without fear. Policing taste, genre, or morality does not protect anyone. It just narrows the creative field until only the most sanitized, corporate-safe stories remain.
Supporting proshipping is not about endorsing every work created under its umbrella. It’s about defending the right to make those works. You don’t have to read them. You don’t have to like them. But if you demand their erasure, you’re siding with control and not community.
Discomfort is not a crime. Fiction is not a threat. And censorship, no matter how well-intentioned, always overreaches. If we want a future where creators are free to imagine boldly and weirdly and without shame, we must draw the line now and not at the content we like but at the principle we must uphold. All fiction deserves a place to exist, even the messy, problematic kind.
Why "Dead Dove Do Not Eat" Is Actually Brilliant Tagging
In the sprawling ecosystem of fan-created content, few warning systems have achieved the elegant simplicity and cultural resonance of "dead dove do not eat." Born from a single Arrested Development sight gag and evolved into one of fandom's most effective content warnings, this tag represents a masterclass in community-driven communication that deserves serious recognition.
The tag originates from Arrested Development's brilliantly absurd visual joke: Michael Bluth opens a paper bag clearly labeled "DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT," finds exactly what was promised, and declares with exasperation, "I don't know what I expected." This moment of perfect comedic timing became something far more significant when adopted by fandom communities; it transformed into a philosophical statement about personal responsibility and informed consent in content consumption.
What makes "dead dove do not eat" genuinely brilliant is its unflinching commitment to truth in advertising. Unlike euphemistic warnings that dance around difficult content, this tag operates on a principle of radical transparency. When a creator uses this warning, they're essentially saying: "I have told you exactly what this contains. If you proceed and find yourself disturbed, that's a choice you made with full information."
This approach cuts through the ambiguity that plagues many content warning systems. Traditional tags often rely on subjective interpretations of what constitutes "dark content" or "mature themes." Dead dove tagging eliminates that guesswork by establishing a clear contract between creator and consumer: the content will deliver exactly what the tags promise, without softening or redemption arcs to make it palatable.
The brilliance extends beyond mere warning because it's fundamentally about empowerment. In a media landscape where audiences often feel deceived by misleading marketing or sanitized descriptions, dead dove tagging respects the reader's agency. It acknowledges that different people have different boundaries, triggers, and interests without making moral judgments about any of them.
This system recognizes that some readers actively seek challenging, uncomfortable, or morally complex content as part of their engagement with fiction. Rather than treating such interests as aberrant, dead dove tagging normalizes the full spectrum of fictional exploration while ensuring everyone can make informed decisions about their consumption.
The adoption and evolution of this tag demonstrates fandom's remarkable ability to self-regulate and create sophisticated communication systems. What started as a niche reference has become widely understood shorthand that transcends individual fandoms. This organic development shows how effective tools spread naturally through communities when they serve a genuine need.
The tag has also evolved beyond its original scope. While initially used primarily for explicit or disturbing content, it now appears alongside any fiction that delivers exactly what it promises without attempting to justify or soften its premise. This expansion reflects the tag's core strength: its commitment to honest representation.
From a psychological perspective, dead dove tagging works because it eliminates the cognitive dissonance that occurs when expectations don't match reality. By establishing clear parameters upfront, it allows readers to engage with challenging content from an emotionally prepared state. This preparation often enables deeper, more thoughtful engagement with difficult themes rather than defensive reactions born from surprise.
The tag also serves creators by protecting their work from criticism based on misaligned expectations. When every element is clearly warned for, discussions can focus on execution and craft rather than getting derailed by arguments about whether certain content should exist at all.
In our current era of content warnings, trigger tags, and ongoing debates about media responsibility, dead dove tagging offers a remarkably elegant solution. It achieves the dual goals of protecting sensitive readers while preserving creative freedom. It manages to be both maximally informative and completely non-judgmental.
This approach could serve as a model for content labeling far beyond fanfiction. Its principles like radical honesty, personal responsibility, and respect for audience agency address many of the problems plaguing content moderation and media consumption in the digital age.
I think "Dead dove do not eat" succeeds because it trusts people. It trusts creators to be honest about their work and trusts consumers to make responsible choices about their own media consumption. In a culture often characterized by gatekeeping and content control, this tag stands as a beacon of mutual respect and clear communication. So the next time you see this tag, take a moment to appreciate the sophisticated system of community values it represents. In four simple words referencing a throwaway television gag, fandom has created something genuinely brilliant: a warning system that protects without patronizing, informs without censoring, and respects the full complexity of human engagement with fiction. That's not just clever tagging, that's cultural innovation at its finest.
‘Variety was famously roasted for a headline asking "Do box office numbers really matter?" immediately after Sinners opened to a massive $60M+, leading stars like Ben Stiller and Chelsea Handler to publicly call them out for moving the goalposts.’
April 2025:
Pieces worrying about the box office seem reserved for movies like Sinners, with certain kind of filmmakers and a certain kind of audience.
Big media franchises like Harry Potter and Star Wars are more than just entertainment. They become a sort of language. If you aren't familiar with those properties, you're going to miss the meaning of so many memes, jokes, and metaphors that you will seriously suffer comprehension problems. This extends to workplace and educational contexts; maybe your biology teacher is using the metaphor of "pensieve" to talk about memory storage engrams in the brain, or maybe your peers are using Palpatine or Voldemort to deconstruct political rhetoric. Even if you have enough familiarity with the series to pick up on basic references, you're going to miss things - conversations, connections, allusions. Language is a TOOL, and it is subject to biases (the English language, for example, contains a lot of sexism and outdated gender constructs) but you can't fully abstain from it without crippling yourself socially, economically, and psychologically.
Lindsay Ellis recently made a hottake video about the controversy around J.K. Rowling's transphobic tweets. She presented the conclusion that, if you really care about transphobia as a social problem, you have no choice but to resist contributing to Rowling's accumulation of power, and this is best done by resolving not to consume harry potter. While I agree that it is probably best to avoid spending money on harry potter products, I think simply choosing not to consume that media or discuss it online damages the power of readers more than it damages Rowling's power. Ideas are tools we can take from problematic sources and use for subversive purposes.
If we teach our children not to consume problematic media, we wall them off from the knowledge of our species, our history, our growth. If we teach them to consume media critically, we give them some tools against the biases they are sure to absorb just by living in an unjust society and using our languages.
In a media world full of product plugs and recycled Q&As, better questions can make sports journalism more human, more inclusive, and more u
Sports interviews have been on my mind because I think we underestimate what a good question can do.
The right one can make a driver, journalist, team principal, or young racer feel less like a quote machine and more like a person with stakes, contradictions, and a world around them. The wrong one can flatten access into content — or worse, into a billboard.
This week’s FaceTime is my argument for better questions in sports journalism, especially in Formula 1: more specificity, more follow-ups, more curiosity about who gets left out and what power is hiding.
Access is not the same as journalism. If the interview is a bridge, we should probably stop using it like ad space.
I’d genuinely love to hear from other writers/readers on this: what’s one interview question you wish people would stop asking, and what would you ask instead?
