When Gratitude Becomes Complicity

Selective Empathy and the Price of Looking Away

Jun 10, 2025

It’s one thing to separate art from artist. It’s another to ignore the harm an artist continues to inflict while profiting from that art—and to help them do it.

a sign that is on the side of a building — Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash

Tom Felton, best known for his role as Draco Malfoy in the original Harry Potter movies and is reprising his role in the Broadway production of "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child", was recently asked about the controversy surrounding J.K. Rowling and her ongoing campaign against trans rights.

“No, I can’t say it does [impact me],” he told Variety. “I’m not really that attuned to it.”

He went on to say that Rowling brought the world together through her books, and that he’s “incredibly grateful.”

Gratitude doesn’t excuse complicity.

The trans community, especially trans youth, are under attack globally. In the U.S. alone, hundreds of anti-trans bills have been introduced, many of which mirror the language and ideology Rowling has amplified. She is not a passive figure. Her wealth and influence actively support organizations and movements that aim to legislate trans people out of public life.

Actors like Felton, as well as John Lithgow—who will be playing Albus Dumbledore in HBO's upcoming Harry Potter series—aren’t just ignoring that harm. They’re reinforcing Rowling’s cultural capital, allowing her brand to thrive even as it becomes more hostile to the very people who once found refuge in her stories. Their participation is not neutral. It is a quiet endorsement under the guise of “just creating art.” But that art now supports the erasure and degradation of a vulnerable community.

Is that what your art stands for?

Do we all just shrug and accept the, “I’m just grateful for the opportunity” remarks? Or should we ask why gratitude is being weaponized to excuse bigotry? The answer tells us who we’re still willing to sacrifice—and who we aren’t brave enough to stand beside. We have to be better then that!

How harmful does Rowling have to become before people recognize what she is championing? Does she need to build camps? Fund violence directly? Where is the line?

I like to believe we’d recognize the machinery of oppression when it starts turning, but history shows us otherwise. We don’t have to go back very far. In the very early days of the AIDS crisis, how many artists, actors, politicians, and institutions stayed silent because they weren’t “attuned to it”? Because it was easier to look away than to speak up for a stigmatized, marginalized group? That silence equaled death.

This moment is no different.

Rowling is not just “someone with opinions.” She is funding and platforming ideologies that lead directly to policy, and that policy leads to the suffering—and in some cases, the death of trans people, particularly youth. To shrug and say you’re not paying attention is not neutrality. It is willful ignorance. It is the privilege of being unaffected.

We are living in an era of convenient empathy—where compassion is extended only when it doesn’t challenge your career, your comfort, or your paycheck. When someone like Tom Felton says he’s “not attuned to it,” what he’s really saying is that he hasn’t had to be. And that is exactly the problem.

And none of this excuses HBO.

By green-lighting a Harry Potter reboot with Rowling attached as executive producer, HBO isn’t just betting on nostalgia—they’re aligning themselves with an active campaign against trans lives. This isn’t just a bad PR move. It’s a conscious choice to ignore the pleas of trans people, LGBTQ+ allies, and even fans of the franchise who understand that representation means nothing if it comes with a side of hate.

To say you’re “not attuned” to the issue in 2025 isn’t neutrality. It’s indifference. And indifference, in the face of violence and erasure, is not passive—it’s deadly.

I don’t expect actors or networks to lead social justice movements. But if I’m going to asked to spend my time and money on their work, I do expect moral clarity in the choices they make—especially when those choices directly impact vulnerable communities.

I’m not trans. But I am a trans ally.

And I believe that means more than just waving a flag in June or posting a hashtag during a moment of outrage. It means standing up—loudly, consistently, even when it’s uncomfortable—when I see harm being done.

To keep working with Rowling, promoting her work, or celebrating her legacy without acknowledging the harm she causes is to say that trans lives are expendable in the name of entertainment and profit.

Is that really how you want your legacy to be written?

I didn't grow up with the Harry Potter books. I was already an adult when I first opened them—but I read them to my son, we watched the movies, and we both fell in love with the world. The magic. The friendship. The idea that bravery often looks like standing up for what’s right, even when it’s hard. My son was Harry Potter for Halloween.

Rowling created a world that seemed to celebrate inclusivity—where outcasts found belonging, the overlooked became heroes, and transformation wasn’t just possible, it was essential to the magic. Even Draco Malfoy was given space to grow. She wrote characters who could shapeshift, become animals, and defy the limitations others placed on them.

But now, she’s made it painfully clear: her vision of inclusivity has limits. And it stops at trans people.

And that’s the heartbreak. Because the world she built was full of flawed characters who grew, who changed, who discovered deeper truths about themselves and others. That’s what made it magical. That’s what made it matter.

Now, she’s using her power not to uplift, but to diminish—and to exclude. Not to protect the vulnerable, but to target them.

It’s not just hypocrisy. It’s betrayal.

And that’s what makes this so painful.

The Harry Potter universe meant so much to cis, queer, and trans readers. We all saw ourselves in the magic, the rebellion, the found family. But now we see clearly: the author—and the institutions backing her—are pushing trans people back beneath a cloak of invisibility. Not for protection, but to erase them—for their comfort.

Fuck that. Trans people deserve to be seen. Trans people deserve to be safe.

Actors can’t claim neutrality. Studios can’t feign ignorance. Every time a curtain rises or a reboot airs, Rowling’s platform grows—and so does the harm.

Silence is not neutral. Participation is not harmless. Legacy is a choice.

Choose wisely.

The magic originally gave us hope. Now the machinery behind it is erasing the very people who once found refuge in its pages.

If you choose to celebrate Rowling while ignoring the damage she does, you’re not just honoring her harmful legacy—you’re perpetuating it.

And that’s not just disappointing.

It’s shameful.

LGBTQ+ people, raise your wands.

Lumos!

Let there be light, truth, and a future where we all belong.

What You Can Do.

💡 1.

Redirect Your Dollars

Instead of buying Harry Potter merchandise or supporting Rowling-linked projects (like the HBO reboot), donate that money to trans-led organizations. A few to consider:

Every dollar not spent on her brand is a vote against her platform.

📚 2.

Uplift Trans Creators and Authors

Support trans storytellers in literature, film, and art. Recommend their work. Share their platforms. Buy their books. Let trans voices define their own magic.

Read works by authors like Akwaeke Emezi, Kai Cheng Thom, and Andrea Jenkins
Follow and promote trans creators here on SubStack, or TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram
Follow: Erin In the Morning, Trans United Fund

📢 3.

Speak Up—Publicly and Often

Post. Comment. Correct people. Silence is interpreted as acceptance. Use your voice, especially in spaces where trans people may not feel safe doing so. Whether you have 10 followers or 10,000, your words matter.

🏳️‍⚧️ 4.

Show Up for Trans Lives Politically

Contact legislators and oppose anti-trans bills in your state or country.
Vote for candidates who protect LGBTQ+ rights.
Stay informed through organizations like ACLU or Trans Formations Project, which track anti-trans legislation.

🤝 5.

Be an Everyday Ally

Use correct pronouns and normalize sharing yours.
Challenge transphobia in conversations—online or in person.
Support trans coworkers, classmates, family, and friends. Not just during Pride. Always.