America’s got a thing for this gangsta’ s—,” 50 Cent rapped on his 2005 song, “Hustler’s Ambition,” explaining our culture’s fascination with the violent, misogynistic and materialistic agenda most of today’s popular hip-hop music represents. I have been thinking about that statement a lot in the past week since reading a much-discussed column in The Washington Post by Lonnae Parker entitled “Why I Gave Up on Hip-Hop.” Though Parker’s essay is just the latest in a long line of critiques of the genre’s excesses, it forces me, a lifelong fan of rap music and hip-hop culture, to examine her objections and wonder if she is right.

Some of the criticisms hip-hop’s detractors level could be thrown at anything you hear on the radio. After all, sex, drugs and an anti-authority streak have been staples of American pop music for at least the past half century. Once upon a time, what passed for sensational was Elvis’ pelvis, “White Rabbit” and Woodstock. Today, what’s controversial includes sexually charged lyrics and music videos, ubiquitous drug references and self-styled social commentators. But these less serious faults can be generally glossed over as inherent to popular music as a whole.

A more serious front where rap music in particular is under assault is the two decades-old claim that it fosters violence. Most recently I read this charge in a May editorial by Dr. Brent Staples in The New York Times. Staples linked the hip-hop culture to “violence, illiteracy and drug dealing” and accused rap music of being detrimental to black youth. His reasoning is fallacious for a few reasons.

For one, rap is not the cause of violent or illegal behavior, just a reflection of the environment many popular artists have grown up in. Additionally, consider that about 45 percent of the people who buy rap music are white, compared to about 41 percent who are black. Most of those white consumers (and some black consumers) are middle-class, suburban youths. You don’t see them doing drive-by shootings or battling over street corners.

The motif of violence is no longer a selling point for rap music, as it was for a time in the 1990s when gangsta rap reigned. Tupac and the Notorious B.I.G. are long dead, and the legacy of popular rap music has shifted to a more simplistic, hedonistic agenda. “Crunked,” party-minded rappers are at the forefront and predominantly fixated on materialistic pleasures.

On that note I find little to complain about, because I understand it to be a reflection of our culture at large. The escapism of Bentleys with big rims, private luxury jets and “iced-out” chains that hang low has a huge commercial appeal, especially when set to lavish studio-produced beats. People buy this music as entertainment; it’s about having fun.

There is one thing, however, about rap music that there is no defending: the degrading attitude toward women. The ridiculous sexism and pervasive references to “ho’s” and “bitches” is unparalleled across any genre in any period in musical history. Mick Jagger crowing about a submissive girlfriend on “Under My Thumb” is nothing compared to the systematic disrespect of the entire female population.

I know many of you are going to tell me rap is not all like that. I know. I think Talib Kweli is great, I have a photo of me with Black Thought of the Roots, and I try to listen to a host of indie/underground acts. That does not change the fact that they are a barely visible minority. The actions of the mainstream dictate the public’s conception.

The appeal of hip-hop partially lies in its rebellious nature and refusal to conform. But at least one change is in order: treating women like ladies, not bitches.

Jay Nargundkar is a junior finance major. He can be reached at terpnews@gmail.com.