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WIDDERSHINS WEEKLY
In Monthly Installments | June 2006
On the Ethics of Disappearing - and Other Traditions That Made Sense in the 15th Century
-WW (no, not that one)
Let's begin with the obvious. The Statute of Secrecy is old.
Not old in a charming way, like a family heirloom your mum brings out every summer to regale you about your someday inheritance. Not old in a rugged way, like our enduring Professor Binns. Not old in a reverent way, like a Roman ruin or the books Madam Pince'll hex you for touching. The Statute is the kind that was built for a world that doesn't exist anymore. The Statute, of course, insists that it still does.
The Statute was built for doors. Time, as my Muggleborn friends keep trying to explain, is increasingly fond of Windows.
(If you know, you know.)
There was a time when dipping into the backroom made sense. There is a certain roguish charm in dwelling behind the curtains, in the toilets, and beyond the back-alleys. Wizards were being hunted, in a time when magic was synonymous with heresy and fire and drowning in village ponds. Muggles aren't particularly proud of that time either, mind, as their doctors still thought in terms of draining pints of blood to cure melancholy, smearing powdered lead in their hair and calling it fashion, and designing pianos that played by poking cats in the tail. No one is proud of anything they did in the 1600s. Ask the French.
That is not this time. It hasn't been for a very long time.
Before I go further, let me be clear: this is not, strictly speaking, a condemnation of Muggle Studies, per se. It is more an observation that our curriculum rests somewhere between five decades and fifteen centuries out of date. Which is to say, we've managed to miss the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, vaccines, and the notion that the moon might be interesting for more than simply pointing telescopes at. The exact range depends on the professor, the weather, and how recently someone has reminded them that the telephone is not, in fact, required to be wired any longer.
We live in a world of satellites, search engines, cyber security, and mass multiplayer online games. (Yes, those are all different things. No, I can't explain them here. Go ask a Muggleborn. Preferably one born after 1980.)
The divide between magical and non-magical isn't a wall. Information leaks. People talk. Wizards fall in love with Muggles. Some Muggles are smart. Some Muggles are very smart. The idea that a globe full of Muggles paying attention could remain unaware of an entire parallel society is, frankly, the kind of fantasy that even Disney would consider too childish to commit screentime to.
(And if you don't know what Disney is, please for the love of Merlin go make friends with a Muggleborn.)
Look: I'm not advocating we dismantle the Statute overnight. I'm not naive.
(Okay. I'm probably naive. But I'm not wrong.)
The question isn't whether the world will notice us. It's whether we'll still be pretending not to notice them when it happens.
Letters to the Editor
From a Concerned Parent (anonymously submitted)
"My children attend Hogwarts to learn spells, hex their friends, schmooze future career allies, and emerge as slightly less traumatized versions of myself - not to be subjected to rants about so-called issues that might 'impact their generation.' Or whatever a MySpace is. Kindly keep YourAnarchicSpace fantasies in your diary where they belong."
From 'Skeptical in Slytherin'
"If I wanted to be lectured about Muggles, I’d go to the opera. At least there I can pretend I’m singing when I yawn."
From 'Grew Up in a Literal Forest Hut'
"I still don't know what a window is in this context. Please advise."
The Statute Stays: Five Reasons Tradition is Totally Tasteful
1. Muggles are horrible creatures.
They mistreat other races, sexes, ages, belief systems, and musical tastes as a matter of course. Wait- hold on, I thought this was about Muggles?
2. It’s objectively cool to access your bank by slipping through a back alley behind a pub.
Like someone preparing for either type of wetwork. First-years, please don’t ask. Second-years, please stop explaining.
3. The Ministry entrance is literally a toilet.
Muggle governments only have metaphorical sewage. Checkmate.
4. "Statute of Secrecy" makes a fantastic acronym.
It is definitely not a cry for help.
5. If wizarding children access the internet, they might question things.
Everyone knows that it is far more important for teenagers to know how to brew love potions and invoke body horror than it is for them to wonder if they're sheltered.
Other Articles:
Top Seven Historical Duels That Definitely Weren't Just Very Public Breakups
Top Five Spells That Sound Like Pickup Lines (And Which Ones Will Earn You Detention)
A Ranking of Portraits That Definitely Gossip About Us
An Open Letter to Whoever Was Crying in the Bathroom During Exam Week
What the Stars Say About Your Summer Vacation, Sorted By House
I Found a Therapist's Office on the Seventh Floor (Hogwarts Knows What Therapy Is?)