In court there should have been spare chairs either side of Lee Ryan.
One for his ego and the other left empty for his lack of self-awareness.
Last week, the Blue singer and former Strictly Come Dancing contestant was found guilty of racially aggravated assault.
A court heard how Ryan had become intoxicated before boarding a flight from Glasgow to London City Airport on July 31 last year. He then attempted to upgrade his seat before making racially aggravated comments towards a Black cabin crew officer.
He told her: “You’re my chocolate darling, my chocolate cookie”, adding: “I’m going to have your chocolate children”.
In court, his defence was quite something.
“My band member is Black,” he said. “I’ve had Black girlfriends and mixed-race girlfriends.”
There’s more. One flight crew member claimed Ryan had asked if she knew who he was.
There’s even the bit of his police interview where he wished he could ring the attendant he’d “propositioned” and offer her some Blue tickets for the next tour.
Because that’d do it.
Have a front row seat to watch me sing. That’ll wipe those tears away.
Quite rightly, Ryan – who denied all the charges against him – was soon the butt of jokes across social media.
But not only was it no laughing matter, the distress of the flight attendant in court was there for all to see.
So let’s focus on his defence over his “chocolate” comments. It really is quite remarkable that it even needs repeating in 2023. But here goes:
Your Black workmate, best friend, extended family member or partner – past or present – does not give you a pass to use racially insensitive language.
Nor does having once eaten jerk chicken, your one-time holiday in Africa or the Caribbean or having listened to reggae music during your student days.
Or having had a Black postman, electrician, priest, butcher, baker or candlestick maker.
One white acquaintance I pulled up, not so long ago, for casually using a horrendously offensive term told me: “I’m not racist, I was born in Nairobi.”
But to use the word “racist” gives undeserved wriggle room to him and the likes of Ryan. It suggests a hood-wearing, pitchfork-carrying, torch-burning, card-carrying far right, swivel-eyed, n-word-using-in-private, kind of rabid individual.
A T-shirt-and-braces-wearing, shaven headed, tattooed thug. A grumpy cat lady at the end of the street known for her politically incorrect outbursts or even a malevolent Nick Griffin type.
You can be none of those things yet still be guilty of using the kind of racially offensive language that would get you sacked in the workplace.
Individuals claiming to know Ryan, one or two of them Black, have appeared on social media to insist he is “good peoples”.
He probably is. But that’s the point. You can be a good person and still not grasp that there are lines in language you simply cannot cross. There are more people unable to understand that, even now, than you’d think.
To moan that “you can’t say anything any more” misses the point. You can.
You simply have to make yourself aware of what you are saying, what it means to the people around you and that the world has changed.
The conversation will continue to evolve across generations.
Especially when we marry into other cultures or our children bring friends home from other backgrounds.
Ryan, at 39, is young enough to know better. But as his comments laying bare his entitlement suggest, he is in a world of his own.
