Few questions in culture spark as much debate as whether we can separate art from the person who created it. From ’s impact on the franchise to the legacies of and John Galliano, the conversation raises difficult questions about morality, money and whether an artist’s work can ever truly exist independently of their actions.

In this edition of , Ahmed El-Ali, Joshua Graham, Niamh Brownhill and Scott Bryan explore whether it’s possible to appreciate the art while rejecting the artist. From acknowledging the contributions of collaborators to refusing to fund people whose views or behaviour cause harm, their perspectives reveal just how complicated it can be to reconcile the things we love with the people behind them.

Ahmed El-Ali – Makeup artist 

Every album, film or song is rarely the work of one person alone. Behind Michael Jackson’s records were producers, songwriters, sound engineers and musicians. Behind Harvey Weinstein’s films were directors, actors, editors and crews. Behind R. Kelly’s music were collaborators who had nothing to do with his crimes.  

This is what makes the question of separating art from the artist so complicated. When we punish the work, we don’t just punish one person’s legacy; we erase the labour of everyone else attached to it. Those who argue against separation say consuming the work still funds the reputation of the person at fault, and that some harm, like Weinstein’s abuse of his own industry, was inseparable from how the work got made. Amy Winehouse complicates this further, since her downfall wasn’t about victimising others but about how much we romanticised her suffering while she was alive. 

Still, I do think art can be separated from the artist. Why should everyone else who worked on something – the writers, musicians and crews who poured their own effort into it – suffer for the mistakes or downfall of one person? 

Fashion is not the place to look for answers on morality. Having worked in the industry for over a decade, I’ve seen how easily the line between right and wrong can become blurred in the pursuit of beauty, with exploitation and bad behaviour often overlooked if the work is considered good enough. 

The Met’s decision to cancel its planned John Galliano retrospective, following backlash over the designer’s past antisemitic remarks, has brought that uncomfortable conversation to the forefront. Galliano’s work has shaped the industry by inspiring countless designers, stylists and writers – myself included – to pursue fashion. His influence is undeniable, and pretending otherwise is to rewrite history.  

The uncomfortable truth is that Galliano’s brilliance does not excuse the harm he has caused, just as his wrongdoing does not erase the impact he has had on fashion. To acknowledge his influence is not to excuse his actions, just as condemning those actions does not mean his work never mattered. Perhaps the more honest position is that both truths exist whether we like it or not. 

There’s nothing more gut-wrenching than your favourite actor, musician or author being revealed to be the person you least expected them to be, when your morals and what you believe are shown not to align with theirs.    

The world of Harry Potter was a comfort for me growing up. It saddened me that this world that sparked so much imagination within me was trampled on by hate to the point I could no longer have the books on my shelves. JK Rowling’s anti-trans agenda and the transphobia she is pushing out feels scary and has detrimental effects on the trans community. I can acknowledge the art she created at the time was magical, but now I wouldn’t feel comfortable supporting her, knowing that my money is going towards funding such hate.  

I don’t believe you can stand strong on your morals while funding the pocket of someone who wants to hurt a human being just for being themselves, simply because you love someone’s film or book. We can acknowledge the art’s value but be honest about the person who created it, and not be scared to be vocal about the hurt they are putting into the world.  

Scott Bryan – Author of Out Now: A queer journey through modern television 

No. I don’t think you can separate art from artist.  

What I don’t get are people who tie themselves in knots, thinking that they can find a way to engage with someone’s art as if it is a fun puzzle to solve. They conclude in their head that it is probably fine to illegally stream it, or they’ll say that they only engaged with material before a person’s views became widely known. 

I’m sorry. You can’t. Engaging with their material keeps them in popular culture and sustains their relevance and, one way or another, supports their bank balance. The only way is to leave it behind. It sucks, I know, especially if you really loved the thing they created. You can still feel nostalgic about the way it made you feel back then, but quite honestly there’s a lot of other art out there that won’t hurt other people’s lives merely for existing. What makes life so beautiful and enriching is the discovery of new and exciting things, rather than staying with the safe and familiar. 

As for the new TV series? I won’t be engaging with it. I’ve coincidentally booked a long holiday during its release. Shame. 

This feature appears in Attitude’s November/December 2026 issue.