When Ben Dunn, comic creator and founder of Warrior Nun Areala, took to Facebook to offer his thoughts on Doctor Who: Season 2, Episode 2 “LUX”, he didn’t write a review. He wrote a confession. Not the kind you whisper in a church pew, but the kind that spills out when the world changes and you realize, with panic, that it no longer centers you.
In his rant, Ben Dunn wrote:

“Yesterday I actually watched an episode of DR. WHO. My wife watches it but I had given up on the series since he became a she. However, she said I might like season 2 episode 2 called LUX that featured an animated villain. It was OK. Not terrible but not great. The thing is it could have been great. Yes, I get it. America was racist in the past. You don’t have to shove it in my face, especially in a Dr. Who episode (for those who do not know, the Doctor is black in this current incarnation). That brought the episode down for me as there was no need for it to be included. There was also a scene that seemed to attack Dr. Who fans. Now this could have been a great episode. The bad guy could be able to control film and it would have been great to see animated versions of the Daleks or Cyberman coming to life. I did like the bad guy’s look and truth be told the animation was outstanding. They could have made it an entirely animated episode. The story reminded me a little too much of the STAR TREK episode WHO MOURNS FOR ADONIS where a Greek “god” tries to convince the Enterprise crew to worship him. Overall, I did like what they were trying to do but I just felt a little short. Another pet peeve of mine is that the current Doctor has no signature look. Will I return to watching DR. WHO? Maybe. I’ve been a long-time fan of the premise and the idea of the character. If they can start doing stories that capture the tone and feel of the classic series I might return. Now if they did a SUPERMARINATION episode that would win me over.”

OH MY…

Dunn’s complaint wasn’t just that the episode featured themes of racism. It was that it starred Ncuti Gatwa, the Fifteenth Doctor—portrayed by a Rwandan-Scottish actor whose very presence marks a historic evolution of the franchise. Gatwa made his full debut in “The Church on Ruby Road” on December 25, 2023, and has since appeared in 12 stories across 13 episodes. He is charismatic, radical, joyful—and yes, Black. And for some, that’s the part they still can’t get past.

Dunn wrote that he stopped watching the show “since he became a she,” already framing gender diversity as a step too far. Then, reluctantly watching an episode at his wife’s suggestion, he concluded that it was “OK”—but marred by a storyline that dared to address racism in America. “You don’t have to shove it in my face,” he wrote, as if historical trauma were graffiti on the pristine wall of his childhood TV memories. He lamented that the show no longer captured “the tone and feel of the classic series.”

Say what? Doctor Who has always been political. It confronted apartheid (The Mutants), fascism (Genesis of the Daleks), Thatcherism (The Happiness Patrol), and eugenics (The Dalek Invasion of Earth). The show didn’t lose its soul. It just stopped whispering.

But what makes Dunn’s post truly egregious isn’t just his discomfort. It’s his hypocrisy.

DOUBLE STANDARDS FOR THE WIN

In a recent video, Dunn urged fellow comic artists not to publicly criticize each other, warning that it “hurts the industry” and that “art is subjective.” This was framed as a call for unity—conveniently aligned with his past entanglements with Comicsgate figures like Richard C. Meyer. According to Dunn, we should support artists even when we disagree—unless, apparently, those artists are women, people of color, or creators telling stories that challenge the white male status quo.

So which is it, Mr. Dunn?

Is art sacred and subjective—or only when it isn’t written by people who make you uncomfortable?

Is criticism destructive—or only when it threatens a worldview you’ve long assumed was the default?

When you say “we shouldn’t tear down fellow artists,” what you mean is: “Don’t critique people like me.” When you say “Doctor Who shoved racism in my face,” what you mean is: “Don’t show me the world as it is if I’m not centered in it.” When you pine for Supermarionation, you’re not just asking for puppets. You’re asking for silence. Compliance. The illusion of simplicity in a world demanding complexity.

Ben Dunn’s problem isn’t that Doctor Who changed. It’s that it kept growing—and he did not.

THE TRUTH IS THIS…

Doctor Who didn’t get worse. It changed. It dared to evolve. It dared to be inclusive. It decided that an alien who can completely rewrite their DNA every time they die should have the capacity to change their sex, gender, and preferences with every new incarnation.

Doctor Who’s writers got braver. It stopped apologizing for making certain people uncomfortable. And if a single episode that acknowledges racism is enough to send someone running back to the static warmth of 1960s television, then maybe they were never really watching the show for what it was. They were watching it for what they needed it to pretend to be.

So no, Ben. You don’t get to hide behind “art is subjective” while spitting on progress. You don’t get to police who gets critiqued and who gets coddled. You don’t get to rewrite history to suit your feelings while ignoring the pain of people who never saw themselves in the stories you demand to keep untouched.

You want Doctor Who to look like the past. But Doctor Who—at its best—was always about the future. Most of us plan to meet it head-on, whether you come along or not.

Do us all a favor and stay home.

It’s less awkward when the story outgrows you, and you’re not still sitting in the back demanding it shrink.
The Dukes of Hazzard or The Man in the High Castle might be more your speed.

ON A PERSONAL NOTE

I am a long-time Doctor Who fan. I have made the effort to watch as many seasons as I can find, no matter how different the experience is between the Classic and Modern eras. Yes, special effects matter—and Classic Who did not have a meaningful budget—but it had meaningful stories. Ideas so large the show has managed to be one of the most successful programs the BBC has ever run.

I treat media as an artifact of its time. It reflects the views, the perspectives, the challenges, and the fears of the moment it was created. Classic Who was bounded by its views of women, of sexuality, of violence, of the supposed superiority of men and the submissiveness of women.

But Classic Who tried to evolve. And when I watch it now, I see it striving to improve—incrementally, slowly—keeping pace with societal changes.

Realizing it had fallen behind, Torchwood, a Doctor Who spinoff, was introduced—led by a bisexual time traveler, Captain Jack Harkness. He debuted in Doctor Who and became a fan favorite because of his dynamic style, his contrary nature—a character who was everything the Doctor wasn’t, and yet the two worked well together.

His flirting with the Doctor likely caused shockwaves in the fandom. That he got his own show was a huge risk. Torchwood featured strong women, a diverse cast, empowered characters—cast members, not sidekicks.

It became a show whose powerful stories and risk-taking brought the Whoniverse to life in a whole new way—without the Doctor.
When the Doctor changed genders with the Thirteenth Doctor, portrayed by Jodie Whittaker, the fandom exploded. New Who had maintained the status quo with Doctors Eight through Twelve being white men. With the Thirteenth, Doctor Who finally joined the 21st century—reckoning with the idea that the Doctor could be a woman, and challenging the fandom to grow.

Many fans abandoned the franchise. But new fans came onboard, justifying the risk. An aging franchise always needs new blood, new fans, new dreamers. Their energy and enthusiasm have injected life into this venerable series.

When Ncuti Gatwa came onboard, similar shockwaves followed. “He’s not my Doctor” echoed through the fandom. Hateful screeds (like this one from Dunn) are as common as viruses on porn sites—and about as welcome.

Ncuti Gatwa is my Doctor. Black, beautiful, dynamic, brilliant—every bit the Doctor he’s ever been. For the first time in my life, the delivery of entertainment reflects that I exist. That I could be a Time Lord. That I could have adventures across time and space and occasionally save reality before breakfast.

I don’t need it, because I’m an adult. My sense of identity is fully formed. But I know there’s a youngster out there who’s just discovered Ncuti Gatwa and they’re cheering.

Because now, they finally get to be the hero. Isn’t that the point? To help us see ourselves as the hero of our own stories?