Primate vs. Stupid | A Perspective
The recent Border-Gavaskar Trophy left us with countless moments to discuss. Yet amid the on-field cricketing action, something else caught my attention: our starkly different reactions to commentators' word choices.
As you read this article, you'll see that my intention isn't to berate the individuals involved but to hold up a mirror to us, illuminating probable biases we might not even realise we're harbouring. Let's delve right in.
Incident 1 | 15 December 2024 | Day 2 of the 3rd Test of the Border-Gavaskar Trophy 2024-2025 at the Gabba.
In her enthusiasm for Jasprit Bumrah's performance, Isa Guha called him "MVP – Most Valuable Primate”. Public reaction split between those who understood her innocent intent and others who took offence at the word. The next day, she offered a heartfelt on-air apology, acknowledging how the word "primate" might be interpreted in a number of ways. Ravi Shastri appeared alongside her, lending support and praising her courage.
MEET ARCHETYPE 1 : THE HUMAN MUST BE ACCOUNTABLE
With this incident and our reaction to it, we co-created Archetype 1: someone who, even knowing their intentions were harmless, paused to consider how their words might impact others. Rather than doubling down, this individual took responsibility, offering an apology that sought to respect the feelings of others.
Incident 2 | 28 December 2024 | Day 3 of the Boxing Day Test, 2024-2025 at the MCG.
Sunil Gavaskar remarked, "stupid, stupid, stupid," while criticising Rishabh Pant and/or the shot that led to Pant’s dismissal. The next day, rather than apologising, he clarified (or justified—depending on perspective) his choice of words as his "passion for cricket." And we accepted that. No questions asked.
MEET ARCHETYPE 2 : THE HUMAN FOR WHOM THE STANDARDS ARE DIFFERENT
Through this second incident and our reaction to it, we co-created Archetype 2: someone who is possibly aware of the impact of their words (I can only assume this, given that a clarification was issued, so it's best to give the benefit of the doubt). However, they possibly feel that the threshold to maintain business as usual isn't an apology but a simple clarification, as reflected by their actions.
Why Did We React So Differently?
What fascinates me isn't just the commentators' contrasting approaches, but our dramatically different reactions to them. If we focused purely on the words spoken, shouldn't our reactions have been more consistent? After all, "stupid" isn't a word that evokes positive emotions. Instead, I believe, we judged the situation based on who said the words, not what was said. If you're thinking that Pant wasn't called stupid directly (and that his approach or the shot was the target), and that makes everything okay, well then, this article isn't for you.
As I reflected on these incidents and our different reactions, I noticed several biases could be at play here, which perhaps guided us to react the way we did. Let's examine them.
The Normalisation of "Stupid" or Our Desensitization to It
The word "primate" is benign when viewed from a scientific point of view, yet it has come to be considered offensive by many, perhaps because of incidents from our past. We may have carried this baggage into the present situation, perhaps not fully appreciating the context in which the word was used, and possibly having a disproportionate (in my opinion) reaction to it.
On the other hand, "stupid"—a direct attack on someone's intelligence—appeared normal to us. We perhaps brushed it aside, thinking this word is commonplace and doesn't carry the same derogatory emotional charge that "primate" does. Of course, there's no rulebook—all this is happening in our beautiful minds.
Raw Emotion = Passion?
When did we start confusing raw reactions with genuine passion for cricket? Is our definition of passion so distorted that calling someone stupid or using the word stupid to describe one’s cricketing style, equals passion for cricket? Yes, one can understand that, in the heat of the moment, emotions got the better of someone, but let's not term or accept that as passion. Passion coexists with respect, and passion without respect is nothing.
Passion for cricket isn't this wild force or emotion; it's a guided inner drive to associate with and contribute to cricket in a positive, uplifting way.
Neither "stupid" nor "primate" has a place in respectful commentary. But if these words are used by mistake, let's not take shelter under "passion for cricket." The spirit of cricket doesn't allow our passion to be above human beings. I am sure of that.
The Authority Bias
When established figures speak, we often suspend our critical judgment, as I believe we did in this case. Both Archetype 1 and Archetype 2 are respected figures and wield authority. Yet our perception of Archetype 2's authority softened our stance. We were more understanding of his predicament and demanded a lesser or no standard of accountability from him.
And if—just if—there’s a possibility that, since Archetype 1 represented England and Archetype 2 represented India, this may have led us to expect less from Archetype 2, then we would need a separate bias category for that. But that still doesn't make it okay to expect less from Archetype 2.
The Gender Dynamic
Are we sure gender didn't play a role in how the words landed on us? Can you imagine yourselves in a situation where a male figure used the word "primate" prefixed with "most valuable" while showering praise on a player? What do you think your reaction would be?
More troubling still: Why did Guha need Shastri's support to validate her apology? Have we created an environment where women's credibility requires male endorsement or endorsement by another authoritative figure—perhaps someone who is perceived to be more authoritative than her?
From my perspective, she didn’t need it.
The Paradox
This one baffles me—why did we normalize an apology from someone offering praise yet celebrate criticism delivered without restraint?
Our reaction essentially said: praise with respect, criticise with none.
The New Standard We've Set
With our acceptance of a mere clarification instead of an apology from Archetype 2, we have signalled that they have more leeway than Archetype 1. We have created an imbalance in how each person can exercise their freedom of speech in a professional context—To Archetype 1, we've effectively said, 'Stay hyper-vigilant; emotions should not rule your words.' Meanwhile, to Archetype 2, our message was clear: 'Carry on. Your status protects you. Allow emotions to rule your words; we understand. After all, it's passion for cricket.'
This selective immunity from accountability that we have granted to Archetype 2 doesn't just affect the present—it shapes how future commentary will unfold.
The Path Forward: History Will Keep Repeating Unless We Learn
If you've been following cricket, you know this isn't the first time cricket has given us a reason to have a conversation. We, as the audience and as individuals, wield immense power—our behaviour shapes the reality we live in whilst also serving as a feedback loop to others, whether we're aware of it or not. In this instance, we may have failed to use that power wisely, letting our biases override discernment.
Our path forward demands that we weigh situations solely on their merit, not the status of the people involved. It requires holding everyone—regardless of their standing—to the same standards of accountability. If we do not,
cricket will keep presenting such moments for reflection—because, you see, cricket is also playing the game of life, which is designed for our growth.
