I’ve been thinking about trigger warnings recently. More specifically, I’ve been wondering if I should put one at the beginning of my young adult fantasy novel.
It’s fortunate that our society has finally evolved far enough to realize that mental health is a big and important issue. And I know that means, in some cases, that we need to learn to adapt to certain changes, including the ways we approach each other—or the ways we introduce our work to others. And considering that my novel, for young people, sort of tiptoes around subjects like depression and suicide, I’ve been wondering if I need to throw in a cautionary statement or two at the beginning in order to provide a simple heads up to anyone who might be experiencing trauma.
Now, I am definitely not an authority on the subject, considering that I am not a psychologist, and that my own personal traumas are (thankfully) pretty average overall, but my immediate instinct is to actually say no to a trigger warning. And here is why.
When you go to, say, a seminar about leadership, and they show a video about someone who fought through mental trauma on their way to becoming a motivational speaker (and dealt with depression and thoughts of suicide, or dealt with physical abuse, or addiction, etc.), then, yes, start the video off with a trigger warning. Because it’s not always a given that you’ll be hearing so much about these subjects during a seminar on leadership (although, I do feel it’s actually fairly common). Therefore, it’s safe to assume not everyone attending said seminar would be expecting to hear about it.
When you pick up a book / watch a movie or play / play a video game, however, you are committing to putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. You are going out of your way to share in someone else’s life / experiences. And life, by definition, is messy.
“Anyone who says differently is selling something.”*
Fictional stories, in my humble opinion, do not need trigger warnings because audiences should be going in already knowing at least some of what to expect, and understanding that the rest is meant to come as a shock, or at least a surprise. It’s why genres and book covers and synopses are so important, and need to be so telling to audiences: so they can gauge whether or not they would even want to read it / watch it / play it in the first place.
If you advertise a story as a lighthearted romantic comedy, then you sure as hell better not include a scene of graphic violence between two rival gangs somewhere along the way. At that point, it’s on you. (I mean, I guess you could if it was satirical—but, again, you’d want to be clear about that fact from the beginning.) But if a reader picks up a book that advertises itself as a dark, gritty fantasy, then it’s really on them if they’re taken aback by people getting violently torn apart by some kind of torture spell, or getting eaten by dragons, etc.
(I mean, I’m scared of sharks and am terrified at the concept of being eaten alive, and I willingly read Jaws. It would be weird if I got mad at Peter Benchley for not warning me there would be blood and death and people getting eaten in his story about a rampaging killer great white shark.)
Trigger warnings are meant to assist people with living their best lives despite having experienced trauma, and I agree with them to a certain extent. If you have a captive audience in any way, like in a classroom or lecture hall, I think the least people could do is say, “Oh by the way, we’re about to get into some pretty heavy stuff, so be aware.” But adding trigger warnings to fiction? Anything beyond a film rating is a waste of time. For one, there are studies popping up all over the place that indicate trigger warnings might, in fact, actually make people more anxious than not. And two: a lot of people experience anxiety over different things.
In high school I knew someone who absolutely abhorred other people’s feet. She hated being near them; she hated getting touched in any way by them; she hated seeing them bare. So, should creators be expected to add a trigger warning at the beginning of a movie just because bare feet appear in one scene? Well, how about spiders? Spiders make a lot of people anxious. Or snakes. Or roller coasters. Or heights. Or dark water. Should we have a long list at the beginning of every fictional work that names all the things within it that might make people nervous?
Or maybe people who experience anxiety over spiders and caves and moments of peril just shouldn’t watch Indiana Jones. Or play Tomb Raider.
I don’t mean to belittle anyone’s trauma. I know there are certain subjects that are far more likely to be triggering to larger groups of people than others. All I’m saying is that a little bit of responsibility should be taken on all our parts. Creators should be expected to be clear about what kind of story they’re telling, and people who experience anxiety over certain things should do their research into what kinds of stories they should try to avoid. And, yes, in some cases a trigger warning is understandable and even necessary (as mentioned, if the audience is somewhat captive, like students assigned a reading, or people at a seminar who would not always be expecting a graphic video presentation). But not for everything, and certainly not for anything someone is willingly going out of their way to experience.
Night Owls, what are your thoughts on trigger warnings? When are they necessary? When (if ever) are they just too ridiculous?
* It’s from The Princess Bride! Pay attention.
