To the dismay and abhorrence of many of my Gen Z peers, I have no memory of ever actually seeing the movies in the Harry Potter franchise. My childhood is splattered with vague memories of seeing some of them in a random order, but I would be hard-pressed to tell you the plot, any background information, or the resolution to the main conflict. And yet, given the wild popularity of the books, movies, and other media, there has never been a point where it wasn’t an ubiquitous part of our culture and on my radar in some way. Say “Dumbledore” to me and I’ll at least know what you’re talking about.

The appeal of the boy wizard franchise continues today, propelled alternately by childhood nostalgia and the corporate desire to milk any moneymaker until it is drier than dry. But standing in the way of the money train is the fact that J.K. Rowling, the series’s author, is, well, a trans-exclusionary radical feminist (TERF). It was not a surprise that this fact was part of the explosion of discussion surrounding the release of the franchise’s newest, and biggest, official game, Hogwarts Legacy (2023).

The question is, in essence, how can a person who proclaims to be progressive (woke, leftist, liberal—pick your term) spend money supporting the intellectual property of a woman whose espoused values have led to a mass hysteria that continues to systematically torture queer people of all kinds?

It’s an old, warped conversation that has never gotten anywhere. The truth of the matter is that it doesn’t matter whether you buy the game, or how much it supports the financial wealth of Rowling. She’s already rich, she’s already won. Regardless, there have been calls to boycott the game.

While having what felt like the 30th conversation about this topic, a friend posited this to me as really a question about ethical consumption under capitalism. As they uttered the words, I was transported back to my college years, debating this question with peers in classrooms, parties, and group events.

Does a boycott send any meaningful message? Does it matter that, according to reports, the game has taken care to diversify, with characters from around the globe, a married lesbian quest-giver, and one character who is almost certainly trans? Is there a way to ethically consume under capitalism? Can a systematic harm be atoned for by reparations of an individual?

This question has captivated my generation. You want to know what we are thinking about? This is what we are thinking about. How do we exist and sustain ourselves in a capacity we can be proud of, one that causes more love and less harm? How can we avoid perpetuating harmful systems that have turned so many of us, as well as our families, into victims?

Perhaps it is captivating because it is so impactful on our everyday lives. Perhaps we cannot let it go because it’s ever-present and forges more thought, more consideration, and more anger at burdening systems than ever before.

Yet, there is another legacy here. While it may seem benign or petty to have such deep discussions about Rowling’s fictional franchise, or to wrestle with the decision of whether or not to buy a video game, the conversation is itself a continuation of what younger generations have done for decades.

Protests against the Vietnam War were notoriously student-led; the civil rights movement had a substantial arm in the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and other young groups; the #MeToo movement is new and prominently propelled by young women questioning patriarchal norms that have led to abuse of so many bodies. Various presidential campaigns have been elevated by the youth vote in ways that brought national attention to issues of health care, climate change, equality, and more. Most of the people working on campaigns, and a good number of those staffing senators and congressmembers and even presidents, are quite young.

In so many instances, new, bold ideas that support equality and progressive action have been taken on as generational issues. It is why, as The Guardian put it, Hogwarts Legacy is a “thoroughly modern take” on an adventure set in the 1800s.

Rowling and rabid conservatives can espouse all the hate they want. It will not change the tide of opinion. Nor will it change the moral need to protect all genders and identities. Otherwise, we would be trying to save the planet for nothing.