By Anne Kehl, Managing Editor
SPOILER ALERT: In order to fully and comprehensively discuss this snippet of culture, I must divulge much of the plotline. If you haven’t seen the whole season yet and don’t want to spoil it, do not proceed.
TRIGGER WARNING: This article tackles some difficult topics that may make certain people feel uncomfortable or anxious, such as sexual assault, bullying and suicide.
Over spring break, “13 Reasons Why” debuted on Netflix and spread through our school like a cold in kindergarten. In an almost cult-like way, our school divided into groups: those who had watched the show and those who had not.
Unsurprisingly, this show sparked many opinions about its attempts to discuss incredibly controversial topics: rape, bullying and suicide. Of course, this includes my own. I believe that despite its effective storytelling, this show is framed in a very unhealthy and problematic way — one that glorifies and romanticizes suicide and rape in a harmful manner for those trying to understand the topics and those who have experienced them firsthand.
The American Foundation of Suicide Prevention (AFSP), as its title may imply, works to reduce suicide in the United States and advocates for those affected by it. As a leading expert on the issue, they put forth a set of guidelines that are widely regarded as uncompromisable rules for the screen.
The producers of “13 Reasons Why” blatantly ignored many of them, and in fact, included exactly what the AFSP advises against.
“Risk of additional suicides increases when the story explicitly describes the suicide method, uses dramatic/graphic headlines or images and repeated/extensive coverage, and sensationalizes or glamorizes a death,” the American Foundation of Suicide Prevention said.
This means that there is a risk of “copycats” — people who copy the discussed suicide method if these things are included. Not only does the show openly and extensively discuss Hannah Baker’s (Katherine Langford) method of suicide, but in the last episode, it graphically portrays her as she kills herself.
Show creator Brian Yorkey rejected such critiques on this issue.
“We worked very hard not to be gratuitous, but we did want it to be painful to watch because we wanted it to be very clear that there is nothing, in any way, worthwhile about suicide,” Yorkey said.
However, Yorkey’s judgment directly opposes fact-based guidelines created by suicide prevention experts.
Furthermore, the show actually does imply a “worthwhileness” to Hannah’s death as it frames her suicide as the perfect way to exact revenge upon those who hurt her.
Hannah makes so many people feel irredeemably guilty for her suicide — something truly suicidal people often go to great lengths to prevent — but as it turns out, that concept is what the entire show is based upon. She takes no responsibility for her action, which ultimately comes down to her fatal decision, and instead blames everyone around her for a reaction she solely chooses.
“13 Reasons Why” plays a dangerous game with its audience. It paints Hannah as a tragic, mesmerizing martyr when it should have depicted her as an unwell teenager in critical need of a helping hand.
This oversimplifies the matter of suicide, because despite the show pointing to approximately 13 reasons why she killed herself, suicide is a very complicated and convoluted issue that is almost never caused by specific incidents, like a rape.
Under the guidelines created by the AFSP, they advise the media to “avoid reporting that death by suicide was preceded by a single event … Reporting like this leaves the public with an overly simplistic and misleading understanding of suicide.”
In fact, according to the UW School of Social Work, more than 90 percent of people who die from suicide have an identifiable and often treatable mental illness, a factor not once mentioned in “13 Reasons Why.”
I actually think the most harmful aspect of the show is how Hannah’s peers react to her cries for help. Not one of her “friends” listens to her or aids her in finding help.
In this alternate world, even adults act improbably.
Hannah approaches her school counselor Mr. Porter (Derek Luke), a trained professional coached to identify the many pointers of a suicidal person, after she is raped at a party. Mr. Porter doubts her story, basically tells her there is nothing they can do and advises her to “move on.”
This provides a remarkably inaccurate narrative about how a trained counselor would respond. No sane, experienced counselor would turn someone away if they didn’t feel comfortable giving specific details about a tragic event, especially something as sensitive as an implied rape.
Not only does this discourage people from seeking help, but it perpetuates slut-shaming, victim-blaming and essentially misogyny.
Hannah is often depicted as dramatic and seeking attention, even after her death. Her friend Jessica Davis (Alisha Boe) even denies her own rape after listening to Hannah’s tapes, calling her a liar.
The ending is very different from the book, and in my opinion, not in a good way. The season concludes not by focusing on Hannah’s or Jessica’s struggle with rape by the same boy, but with Clay Jensen’s (Dylan Minnette) actions to try and make it better.
This paints Clay as the hero, rather than focusing the story on attempts to get Jessica the help she needs in order to avoid making the same decision Hannah does after realizing that she has been raped.
In fact, in order to further dismiss Jessica’s feelings, Clay gives the tapes — including a 14th tape with Bryce Walker’s (Justin Prentice) confession on it — to the counselor, something Jessica specifically told him she wasn’t ready for, flagrantly disregarding her needs as a rape survivor.
Another huge hole in the supposed “helpful” rhetoric is that not once in the show do the producers include resources for viewers to solicit help, showing a clear neglect for spectator safety.
As the AFSP suggests, media should “include up-to-date local/national resources where readers/viewers can find treatment, information and advice that promotes help-seeking.”
As popular feminist writer, self-proclaimed Internet yeller and editor of The Establishment Ijeoma Oluo put it:
“The chance to heal would have been a greater victory than the revenge that she didn’t live to see.”
Now, obviously there is a lot to disagree with in “13 Reasons Why.” However, there is no denying it is entertaining and thought-provoking. It effectively uses emotion to tell a story — one that is begging to be talked about. I was tearing up from virtually scene one. The story is compelling, and the suspense had me on the edge of my seat.
The show-runners also take the characters much more seriously. In the book, most individuals are simply portrayed as single-layer monsters seen from Hannah’s perspective, whereas in the show, each character is not a simple choice between good and evil. I am exceptionally impressed by how dynamic the characters become in front of the lens.
On a more superficial level, the soundtrack is genius. It follows the theme of avoiding modern influences and utilizes haunting, mournful melodies to further tear open our hearts.
Finally, I admire the use of trigger warnings at the beginning of especially provoking episodes.
However, the entire season is, in some way or another, triggering.
“13 Reasons Why” uses emotion in a powerful way to make the viewer feel something, but it needs a lesson on how to safely discuss sensitive subjects. It’s true that a show as successful as this must rely on the viewer’s emotions. However, there are some emotions should be discussed more carefully than they attempt to in the show..
But at the end of the day, dialogue will always trump silence. The show demonstrates the very real impact teenagers can and do have on each other. It has the potential to give people a new way to describe their feelings and experiences around such sensitive topics.
3 out of 5 stars.
If you or someone you know are feeling suicidal, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1(800)273-8255 immediately to get the help you need.