Michael Jackson or Endless Guilt

There are convictions that appear in no criminal code.

No judge pronounces them. No jury upholds them. No lawyer can truly challenge them.

They arise elsewhere.

In media narratives. In conversations. In collective certainties. In that strange gray area where emotions, beliefs, and perceptions sometimes end up taking precedence over facts.

Some survive trials.

Some survive acquittals.

Some even survive death.

And Michael Jackson has perhaps become one of the most striking examples of this form of perpetual guilt.

For when we ask the question today, “Should Michael Jackson be censored?”, the question already contains its own implicit answer. It assumes that there is a fault sufficiently established that we can now debate not its reality, but the cultural sanction that should be applied.

And this is precisely where my reflection begins.

Not about Michael Jackson himself.

But about our collective relationship to accusation, evidence, and truth.

How many times can a man be judged?

Justice is imperfect. It always has been. It always will be.

But it remains the only framework our societies have found to distinguish suspicion from established facts.

When a trial takes place, when investigations are conducted for years, when jurors deliberate and a verdict is reached, what remains to be done? Can we continue to judge an individual after their acquittal? Can we create a parallel sense of guilt, independent of judicial decisions? Can we turn suspicion into a permanent state?

These questions go far beyond the single case of Michael Jackson: they concern the very functioning of our modern democracies. For we live in a paradoxical age... Never have we placed such emphasis on the importance of evidence, verification, and intellectual rigor.

And yet, perhaps never have emotional narratives circulated with such force.

Accusations travel faster than investigations. Indignation spreads more easily than nuance. And reasonable doubt sometimes becomes suspect.

The stone we keep throwing

What has struck me for years in the Michael Jackson case is not just the persistence of the accusations: it is the way they seem destined to survive everything.

Investigations.

Through verdicts.

Through contradictions.

Through denials.

Sometimes even through their own fragility.

As if certain figures, at a certain point, become vessels for something that transcends them.

Michael Jackson is no longer just Michael Jackson: he has become a symbol. A projection screen. A screen onto which everyone projects their fears, convictions, fantasies, or certainties.

Perhaps this is the fate of the most symbolic figures...

History regularly shows us that public figures who embody something greater than themselves often end up being attacked precisely for what they represent.

The man who spoke of innocence becomes the symbol of its negation.

The man who celebrated childhood becomes the object of all suspicion.

The man who sang of brotherhood becomes the battleground of all divisions.

As if societies sometimes felt the need to deconstruct their own myths...

The Paradox of Erasure

Suppose, however, that we decide to erase Michael Jackson.

What exactly would need to be erased? The songs? The music videos? The concerts? The albums? The influences?

Because that’s where the project gets strange!

Michael Jackson is no longer just an artist: he has become part of the very language of popular culture... . His legacy is found in the way many contemporary artists sing. In their way of dancing. In their relationship to the stage. In their use of the music video as a narrative space.

He is present in those who openly claim him. He is also present in those who no longer even realize they are inheriting from him.

Erasing Michael Jackson would be a bit like trying to erase certain foundations of a building without touching the floors that rest on them: the operation seems theoretically appealing. It becomes practically impossible!

For great cultural figures eventually transcend their own existence... They become points of passage. Crossroads. Cornerstones.

A Question of Consistency

Deep down, I don’t think the key question is whether one should like Michael Jackson. I understand—given the force and conviction with which certain so-called “serious” media outlets address an audience that doesn’t really know him—that they might raise doubts, questions, or reservations in that audience.

The question that seems more important to me lies elsewhere: are we capable of applying the same principles to everyone?

If we assert that a rumor does not constitute proof, then that must apply to everyone.

If we assert that journalism requires verification and cross-checking, then this requirement must be universal.

If we assert that justice must be based on facts rather than impressions, then we must accept the consequences of this principle even when they contradict our personal convictions.

Consistency is perhaps one of the most demanding forms of intellectual honesty.

Listen Before You Condemn

Perhaps the real question is not, after all, “Should Michael Jackson be censored?”

Perhaps we should instead ask what drives a society to continually want to retry certain individuals.

Why do some accusations become eternal?

Why do some figures seem doomed to never be able to escape the court of public opinion?

And why this need to hand down verdicts over and over again, even when the legal proceedings have long since ended?

I don’t have all the answers. But I know one thing: a society that ceases to distinguish between accusation, evidence, and conviction ultimately undermines the very principles it claims to defend. And this reflection goes far beyond the case of Michael Jackson.

It is precisely for this reason that it deserves to be raised.

In two recent videos, I explore this question in greater detail through several historical, media, and legal examples, as well as the mechanisms by which public reputation is constructed. You can find the full analysis here:

Part One Part Two (Turn on subtitles and translations on YouTube)