The Value of Awards

One of the woman creators I follow won two Eisners (the comic book equivlanet of an Oscar) and can’t get her work published; she has to work as a cleaner, scrubbing floors.

If you ever wonder why I’m so contemptuous of awards and the people who assiduously pursue them, this is one reason why. Awards are politics. That’s all they ever are, from elementary school to The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The fact that Michael Jordan won fewer MVP awards (5) than NBA titles (6) is all the evidence you need to understand that; on merit, he should have won at least 8, according to the Sports Guy.

There are hundreds of reasons to complain about the internet these days. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. Just know that the internet never, in a million bazillion katrillion years, would have allowed Michael Jordan to lose the ’93 and ’97 MVPs. He should have won seven, not five… You know what? Jordan should have won eight MVPs. My bad, MJ. I counted wrong.

Also, ahem, Wes Unseld.

People try to cite the fact that no one buys award-winning diversity books and comics as evidence of oppression and marginalization, but that’s backwards. The awards not only mean nothing with regards to quality, they actually send a negative signal now to everyone who isn’t interested in reading either a) a lecture or b) the sort of story that is of absolutely no interest to them.

The reason so many award-winning writers, such as Neil Gaiman and Neil Scalzi, have imposter syndrome is because they are imposters. A mediocrity who has collected a few manifestations of mainstream approval is still a mediocrity.

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