The view that professional criticism is dead is quickly becoming a popular one. Last May, Salon.com published a lengthy discussion about this very topic, specifically dealing with literary criticism. However, I believe their discussion can be applied to criticism of pop culture and its art on a macro scale as well.

Salon’s Laura Miller points out that criticism’s death may be due to the Internet and its democratization of opinion. She posits this rationale: “If anyone can do it, then surely it’s a skill that requires no expertise or cultivation.” She then offers an astute rebuttal: “It’s true that anyone can dispense quickie, depthless, thumb’s-up/down judgments, but that doesn’t really enrich your experience and understanding.”

Criticism is only dead if people think it is. Its relevance has never decreased, but because of the Internet, people turn to Metacritic or Rotten Tomatoes for a taste of everyone’s opinion amalgamated into “universal acclaim” or “rotten.” In addition, the Internet has given carte blanche to the average citizen’s ability to voice opinion via blogs.

But it is because of this fact that critics are needed now more than ever. One thing many who cite review aggregators as proof the critic is no longer relevant forget is the simple fact that said websites compile professional reviews, not some 17-year-old’s blog containing a review of the new T-Pain record that reads, “T-Pain is awesome.”

Yes, it’s great that the Internet has made free speech more democratic than it has ever been and probably ever will be. What I am saying is that because of this newfound freedom of the general populace, professional critics are necessary for reasoned, well-thought out reviews instead of primitive grunting like “puuuuuuuleeeeeeeeeeeeze” that has infected online discourse.

If criticism is needed in modern culture — and it is — then it also has to include negative criticism. Negative criticism has, as of late, been deemed “uncool” by Bill Wyman, as quoted in an April 2008 Los Angeles Times column. In his mind, the current trend dictates that critics aren’t “supposed to tell readers things they don’t want to hear” like, for example, that “a lot of pop music is terrible.” Indeed, critics for Rolling Stone, among other publications, are being accused of “pull[ing] their punches” to satisfy this new elementary school-esque “If you can’t say anything nice…” phenomenon.

This is ridiculous, considering what the job of a critic actually is. The Merriam-Webster definition of criticism is “the art of evaluating or analyzing works of art or literature.” It does not stipulate that said evaluation needs to be positive to have merit. A critic’s job is to assess the quality of a work — an album, a film, whatever. If the quality is bad, then it is the critic’s job to say so. To ignore or to create bad quality in a review is to lie.

It can be argued anything within the arts and entertainment community is subjective and, therefore, opinion may as well be slanted towards kindness. After all, there is little point in saying something is terrible when someone will like it anyway (cases in point: Soulja Boy, Nickelback, etc.).

This, of course, brings me back to the politically correct, “feel good” mentality that has infiltrated every nook of society to the point where critics shouldn’t be critical at all. To water down or remove truthful (read: “mean”) criticism is to turn the whole concept of criticism into one giant agree-a-thon. If everyone agrees that everything is good — even Limp Bizkit — then we can all be friends!

Negative criticism does have a reason for existence: namely, entertainment. Even if you or I vehemently disagree with the contents of said criticism, we can still enjoy the writing itself.

Drownedinsound.com’s Sean Adams wondered in a recent column if the negative review of media (in this case, music) is “more pointless than ever” in the wake of the Internet and its accompanying well of “limitless” sources for opinions. The column recalls the old days when critics “were a salvation to music fans unsure” of how to spend their money. Actually, “critics” is the wrong word here. Instead they were “more than tastemakers, they were the preachers of a religion.”

As lofty and egocentric as those sentiments are, they are nonetheless true. Critics did once wield influence over the general populace from their ivory towers. What may be surprising to Mr. Adams is that critics still do wield that power. Their power may have diminished, but it’s still there. Pitchfork Media is living proof of this.

Pitchfork has not given the Mars Volta anything over 4.9 in any review, and the 4.9 was their debut album. In fact, their latest record, The Bedlam in Goliath, received the second-highest score of 4.3. I happen to vigorously disagree with their position on any Mars Volta record, as well as the band itself. I love the band for the very reasons Pitchfork hates them. And that’s OK.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy their negative reviews. The review for Goliath contains several sentences that made me laugh out loud, even as I differed with their points. “Opener ‘Aberinkula’ is typical of the dynamic assault, erupting like it was in a stepped-on firehose [sic] for the past year and proceeding to just get fucking louder and louder until the free-time saxophones confirm the scent of apeshit” is my favorite sentence of the entire review. I love that song, and Goliath, but I also love that sentence.

Some readers of this column today who may have read some of my previous work might be thinking I’m writing this purely to defend my own work. Damn right, I am. It’s true, I’m just giving myself a free pass on my zero- and half-star reviews. But it’s for a reason: the comments that I get, or that any other Herald writer gets, for publishing some truth in a review.

And there have been some legendary ones, for sure. If for no other reason, the absolute outrage, whether real or not, of certain comments on the website (and e-mails) is enough to justify negative criticism. That is to say, I have never trashed anything just for the sake of trashing it — it’s always been because the reviewed media had it coming. However, that does not mean awaiting the reactions of people isn’t an enjoyable consequence itself.

Indeed, as the late Kingsley Amis so aptly put it, “If you can’t annoy somebody, there’s little point in writing.”

Steve Lampiris is a senior majoring in political science. If you think he has “no clue what he is talking about” and “should be fired,” e-mail him at [email protected].