On February 19, a New York Supreme Court judge ruled that the musician Kesha must remain contractually bound to Sony and Kemosabe, the record label created and run by Dr. Luke (real name Lukasz Sebastian Gottwal), the producer who she claims drugged and raped her when she was 18 and continued to abuse her throughout their creative partnership.
Judge Shirley Kornreich heard Kesha’s request for an injunction that would allow her to record outside Dr. Luke’s reach as a request not for physical, psychological and sexual safety but a request to “decimate a contract that was heavily negotiated and typical for the industry,” as Kornreich put it.
Kesha’s injunction request read, in part, “I know I cannot work with Dr. Luke. I physically cannot. I don’t feel safe in any way.” But that plain statement of absolute need doesn’t matter. Legally, in the moral eyes of the court, it’s the contract—the corporation—that comes first.
This is appalling, but it’s no break from tradition. The U.S. Supreme Court has already determined that corporations have similar rights to people, though if you look closely, you’ll find that theirs are far more enviable—especially compared to those of us who’ve been legally cursed with female bodies and female voices, which are meant to be soft and agreeable. Money speaks louder than you or I ever could in a courtroom, even if we were pop stars whose fans waited outside for hours to support us; corporate interests are louder than ethics and empathy, louder than autonomy, or self-determination, or basic rights to safety.
How We Failed to Protect Kesha
Published
Thoughtfulfangirling 