Cosplay is not consent, and I wish we'd stop feeling so entitled to shoving our phones in people's faces without asking them first

Birmingham (that's the city in England, not the Alabama one) went through the ultimate crossover episode two weeks ago when three conventions descended upon a single venue: DreamHack ventured across the channel for its UK debut, MegaCon returned for all things anime and pop culture, and bodybuilding show Arnold Sports Festival served as the unintentional oddball to complete the trinity.

Some very funny stuff came out of the three (well, two-and-a-quarter really—I assume the Venn diagram of DreamHack and MegaCon enjoyers has a decent overlap, nevermind the number of nerdy gym rats these days) worlds colliding. Gym bros and cutesy cosplayers collaborating for some good-natured videos poking fun at the very different vibes the conventions were exhibiting, like this one from @toothlessteddie on TikTok.

Unfortunately, it was also a weekend mired by harassment of cosplayers in what can only be described as a regression to the stereotypical tactics deployed by high school teenagers. Disrupting videos and photos being taken by cosplayers; approaching and filming them without their consent, including asking uncomfortable questions for so-called content; and generally engaging in pettishly juvenile behaviour.

Harassment of cosplayers is, unfortunately, not a new concept. "Cosplay is not consent" is a phrase that exists for a reason. The one and only time I cosplayed, at 17 years old, I was kissed on the cheek by a man as I walked past him. No greeting, no conversation, no permission. It's something the community has become far stronger fighting back against in the years since that encounter, but situations like this prove that we are still far from a future where existing in a costume doesn't make a minority of folks feel entitled to us.

That requirement of consent doesn't end at the big stuff like touching and invading personal space. When many cosplayers expressed their disappointment at the sheer number of other show attendees who filmed and photographed them without asking, I too was disappointed at how many replies said something along the lines of "filming in public doesn't require your consent!"

Sure. But when did we become so comfortable with documenting complete strangers, saving seconds or minutes of their lives into our phones to pass onto our friends, family, or our social media audiences? Regardless of whether it's from a place of admiration or something more sinister, it feels downright unsettling to me knowing how entitled so many people feel to these snippets of ourselves, without even stopping to think if we're okay with doling them out.

It's not something I've experienced on the cosplay side. But as someone who frequents arcades and spends a lot of time on rhythm games and dance machines, I've lost count of how many times I've turned around after a song to see a phone pointed in my direction, capturing me without my permission. Or even worse, phones being pointed in my face or in my peripheral vision while I'm right in the middle of playing. It's an awfully vulnerable feeling. Are they allowed to record me? Legally, yes. But the world would be a little nicer if people asked first.

That's the sentiment many of MegaCon's attendees share—seek permission, have a conversation, and above all just be cool about it. We don't need to resort to '90s bullying tactics.

To be clear, this was not a fault entirely isolated to the entirety of the Arnold Sports Festival's attendees. Again, the Venn diagram! Nerdy gym rats are everywhere! One is writing this very article right now! Other folks whose interests spanned two or more of the colliding conventions came out to offer their support, too. Taqee Mcdaniel, whose entire brand is about being a cutesy cosplaying yoked bro, condemned the handful of people ruining the experience for cosplayers in an Instagram video. One where he's shirtless with a Hello Kitty filter. Forever on brand.

It seems most of the frustration was directed towards one Kick streamer in particular, who went on a four-hour stream approaching cosplayers and asking them deliberately unnerving questions in a way clearly designed to make fun of them; and later purposely invaded a group photograph.

It's incredibly uncool behaviour, and ultimately these conventions are supposed to serve as a safe space for the people who want to share their interests with other people. Whether those interests involve protein powder, EVA foam, or esports, everyone is there for the same reason: meeting like-minded people, and having a good time. Any little things we can do to make that experience better for everyone involved—even something as simple as asking before taking any photos or videos—should be something we all strive for, shouldn't it?