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TL;DR warning. One of the most fascinating things about the past ten years has been watching different people who weren't part of Sad Puppies speak authoritatively on Sad Puppies.
I have my own thoughts, of course.
Understand that everything I am about to say, I say as a guy with several authorial accolades under his belt, including the DragonCon Dragon for Best SF novel in 2019, and three readers' choice awards from Analog magazine in 2010, 2012, and 2014. I was also the rare triple-nominee for Hugo, Nebula, and Campbell awards in 2012.
So . . . did Sad Puppies fail?
For my part I wanted the Hugos to have broad cultural relevance within literary SF again. Versus continuing their long slide into activism-induced irrelevance. In this regard Sad Puppies 3 failed spectacularly. The net dividend of 2015 was the power brokers of Worldcon declaring, "We're gonna Feminist and Queer the Hugos even HARDER!" and that's precisely how it went.
The Hugos are now ignored by the great majority of spec fic and fantasy readers because they know beyond a shadow of a doubt the award has been made into an explicitly political activist totem.
As of 2026 only a fraction of spec fic and fantasy readers even know who the Hugo winners are year to year, and most who remember the Hugos think of the Hugos as they think of almost all entertainment awards: that legacy thing we used to care about but we've stopped caring about because people on stages giving each other trophies doesn't matter to the consumer like it did a few decades ago.
It was already becoming true by 2010. Much moreso, now. Grammys, Emmys, Oscars, yadda. Just don't have the cultural heft of the 1970s-1990s. And the same for both the Hugo and Nebula. Which are not signposts of quality (on a book cover) like they once were. In fact, for many readers they are a, "Stay away, this is a Modern Audience (said in Drinker voice) book!"
And that's precisely what I wanted reversed. Because I remember when the words HUGO WINNER and NEBULA WINNER on a dust jacket actually described what was between the covers. Like with Ender's Game and Speaker for the Dead.
But the opposite occurred. Because the Nielsen-Haydens and George R. R. Martin and many other people with media reach and influence decreed that no dirty normal Hugo voters would have a say in their sainted backroom politicized log-rolling process. The Hugos would be perma-Woke.
And so they are. And that's a damned shame, because most readers don't give the Hugos any regard anymore—as they don't give most lit awards any regard.
And if you doubt it ask yourself if Ann Leckie is bigger than Heinlein? Who has been dead for decades. But he outsells Leckie 20 to 1 on Grandpa Bob's slow days.
They hate Heinlein for that. They want him dustbinned.
They tried their best to make Leckie into a thing. Heaped every award possible on her between 2014 and 2016. And all that resulted were massive stacks of deluxe boxed merchandise at B&N locations. With the words HAS WON EVERY SCIENCE FICTION AWARD KNOWN TO MAN plastered across the slipcases and the special selection signage. But the merchandise didn't move.
I repeat: the merchandise didn't move.
They tried the same thing from '16-'18 with Nora Jemisin, and it was a similar result: triple-Hugo Best Novels that sat on shelves. And kept sitting.
Neither Leckie nor Jemisin are bigger than Heinlein. Both remain midlist activist authors who could not be catapulted over the cultural relevance wall by any means, because that's not how a literary work (nor author) achieves long-standing relevance in both geek culture and the wider English-speaking culture as a whole.
You know who does have relevance?
J.K. Rowling. Or Orson Scott Card. Or any dozen other caps-n Names nobody needs to spotlight trophies about. Because their books gained and kept vast audiences all on their own power. Much like Heinlein's.
The dog of culture cannot be wagged.
You can take over institutions believing you will take over culture, but it doesn't really work like that. The Soviet system dominated the Eastern Bloc for most of a century. It literally owned every institution. But all it did was teach generations of Iron Curtain dwellers to subsist on black humor about how their supposed Socialist paradise was in fact a corrupt hell of bureaucrats, toadies, secret police, and fear.
I believe we're entering something like that, where American pop culture is concerned. The Woke own the big gaming companies, along with gaming media. But who's buying and playing the games?
Similarly, the Woke own the big movie studios and all of the media media, but ticket sales have cratered on huge blockbuster projects over and over, and keep cratering.
More broadly, the Woke own the Ivy League, but all this does is make people question if the Ivy League still matters anymore? Or, does a PhD even matter if the person putting those letters next to their name is a raving loon stuffed with terrible ideas and terrible politics, like a rotten Christmas turkey?
You can corrupt an organization, but you cannot corrupt people if they don't want to be corrupted.
In this regard Sad Puppies was a spectacular success. Because it was the loud, emphatic shout of the normie SF/F reader who used to esteem the Hugo and refused to let the Hugo go quietly into the night. People who could not be convinced that mediocre or even terrible storytelling with Woke wrappings and trappings was in fact brilliant and timeless.
Again, the dog of culture cannot be wagged.
The name Sad Puppies was an in-joke coined by Larry Correia, who made the claim that the main cause of puppy-related sadness was political correctness in science fiction awards. He produced a short video showing puppies with big eyes and drooping ears while slow violin music played.
The absurd and insane batshite crazy hostility of the reaction from the politically correct establishment is something we are all now used to, but, at the time, accusing one's enemies of being racist Nazi misogynists was shocking and new.
Sad Puppies wanted to challenge the Hugo corruption, and reform it, if reformation was still possible.
Vox Day, the Gadfly and Don Rickles of Science Fiction, did not want to challenge the Hugo corruption, but to destroy it. He is he one who coined the term Rabid Puppies, and carried out a coordinated program to force overlooked authors onto the ballot, including, in particular, yours truly.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had enough fans to put works of mine in all the ballot categories except for best novel (since I had not written a novel that year).
The establishment then did the very thing they accused Correia and Vox Day of doing, namely, bringing in ringers, paying for non-fans to join the World Con, and conspire to vote as a block. They voted every category "no award" rather than give me a Hugo.
George RR Martin took time out of his busy writing schedule to mock my stories, which he perhaps had not read, claiming that nothing I produced, or any Sad Puppies recommended author, was worth buying.
I wrote him publicly to remind him he had bought my short story "Guyal the Curator" for his Jack Vance homage anthology, SONGS OF THE DYING EARTH. I asked him why, if my work was unworthy of being bought, he had bought my work?
He penned a windy reply, hemming and hawing, and said I should not be so proud of my own work. I felt sorry for the old man, and did not respond to him. I was proud of making the sale to him because I respected him, not because I thought my work so grand. It was his view of my work, not mine, that the purchase betrayed.
He thought I was good enough to go into an anthology next to Tanith Lee Dan Simmons, Elizabeth Moon, Tanith Lee, Tad Williams, Kage Baker, and Robert Silverberg.
But when it became politically incorrect to be associated with a conservative author, he denied with his lips what his check-writing hand had affirmed.
And, by the way, for the record, I was the only conservative in the core group of Sad Puppy Authors. The others were liberal or libertarian or apolitical.
So Vox Day rather the Larry Correia won the day: the establishment preferred to grant no award rather than grant the award to a deserving Tor Books author, because his political opinions were not far left.
It was plain for anyone with eyes to see. Sad Puppies failed in our mission: we could not return sanity and honesty to the Hugos.
Rabid Puppies succeeded in theirs. The Hugos burned themselves to the ground and salted their own earth.
Sad.