It felt like David finally taking down Goliath when singer R. Kelly was finally sent to prison if David were dozens of Black women and girls and Goliath turned out to not be the behemoth we once thought he was. In 2021, the R&B singer was convicted of charges related to decades of allegations against him made by multiple Black girls and women alleging sexual violence, sex trafficking, child pornography, and more. Yet, even before Kelly went to prison, I had a sinking feeling that the network of people who had willingly participated in covering up his behavior would never face any consequences at all.
That feeling has returned with the recent unfolding events surrounding the music mogul Sean Combs, more well-known as P. Diddy. Since November 2023 when his ex-girlfriend Cassie Ventura filed a lawsuit accusing him of years of abuse including sex trafficking, Diddy has been hit with more lawsuits. Last week, the Department of Homeland Security raided two of his homes in connection with trafficking allegations.
It feels impossible to overstate how huge of a moment this is in hip-hop.
For years, since the #MeToo movement began in response to systemic abuse in Hollywood, many have wondered if the music industry will experience its own come to Jesus moment when it comes to violence against women. R. Kelly’s conviction, requiring both a cultural and legal movement, offered brief optimism. However, it feels like we’ve regressed culturally since then. These cultural watershed moments have also been undermined by the inability and or unwillingness of Black publications to give these stories the full coverage they deserve.
Undoubtedly, structural issues plague Black publications, preventing them from adequately covering Diddy and similar stories. The crumbling infrastructure of online journalism and the shuttering of legacy publications has disproportionately impacted Black media. Blogs and social media accounts often fill the void, but these aren’t beholden to journalistic standards and thrive on sensationalism and misinformation. But this isn’t solely a matter of money.
Shortly after Cassie’s lawsuit, Diddy stepped down from REVOLT, the network he founded, and recently sold his shares. In a November statement, REVOLT said: “Our focus has always been one that reflects our commitment to the collective journey of REVOLT.” The statement continued: “One that is not driven by any individual, but by the shared efforts and values of our entire team on behalf of advancing, elevating, and championing our culture - and that continues.” Since then, Revolt has published nothing about the raids or any of the lawsuits.
Other publications like Ebony and Essence offer either aggregate articles — meaning articles that just summarize previously released information or in the case of the former aforementioned website — or nothing at all. Essence’s owner Richelieu Dennis was recently reported to be the anonymous buyer of Diddy’s REVOLT shares.
Without Black publications contextualizing this story or any story of this nature, especially in an age of disinformation, we risk perpetuating cycles of abuse. We have no journalistic platform to properly push the conversation. Despite serious allegations of gang rape, sex trafficking, child sexual assault, and physical violence, much focus has been put on Diddy’s alleged sexuality. Even rappers like Meek Mill, who some people believe to be a redacted name in one of the lawsuits, come out to defend himself against gay allegations.
Any substantive pathway to protecting women and girls within the industry is going to require us to think beyond just individual abusers and look also at the systems that support them. Powerful men like Diddy are able to carry out their crimes because of the network of supporters they have who are willing to co-conspire in their violence. Murmurings have already begun about other powerful people Diddy could be involved with.
But what if we looked at the entire music industry as culpable? Survivors’ groups are already putting out research on the widespread abuse in music; this is a moment that requires us all to face existential conversations about the prevalence of these violences.
It’s painful to remember that the music that brings the most joy often comes from people who bring terror to others. Bad Boy Records is legendary beyond words, and has provided the soundtrack to all of our lives. Yet, Diddy’s immense power, fueled by wealth and influence from that music, should make us question why we allow such violence for the sake of consumer joy.
Even before the recent allegations, Diddy was accused of exploitative labor practices by various artists under his label including from rapper Mase who said in 2020 that the Mogul’s “past business practices knowingly has continued purposely starved your artist.” Aubrey O’Day from Danity Kane also spoke out in 2023 after news of Diddy giving the publishing back to his artists, saying that “this is just some measly streaming money in order to stay hushed on Puff.” In 2022, O’Day came out alleging that she was kicked out of the music group by Diddy because she “wasn’t willing to do what was expected of [her] — not talent-wise, but in other areas.”
We have to dismantle industries that concentrate wealth and power in the hands of so few. We have to stop allowing the enjoyment of art to be a reason to allow horrifying things to be done in its name. The Diddy saga continues, but it’s clear: the music industry needs to face itself.
Hanna Phifer is a journalist and critic based in Charlotte, North Carolina.