I'm not sure where I stand on this (or if I need to stand on it at all), but I did enjoy The Guardian's article, linked upthread, for the range of approaches to the question.
[Rant about bad writing on Scotland begins....]
I don't like books that take my culture and turn it into a backdrop for idiotic romance. It pisses me off fairly seriously. I resent it when idiots try to put my accent into text, when they've clearly never actually heard anyone like me speak, and they mix accents from different parts of my country and clearly never showed their work to anyone who knew anything about it. It rankles, partly because the internet is full of people who know how Scottish people speak -- many of them Scots -- so why is it OK for big publishing houses to publish works where "Och laddie, aye ye ken, Tammy?" is assumed to be the way Highland men relate to each other? It would take minutes to check -- if anyone made the effort. We even speak the same language FFS.
There's a lot of it about -- the fetishisation of hairy highlanders, the way authors dwell lovingly on plaid and scones and how rough, tough and brave highlanders are. It's a nice cliche, but it's a boring one now. I got about 6 pages into whatever the book version of Outlander is before I threw it on the floor and jumped on it. My Canadian friend loved it, but then she wasn't brought up in my culture.
And, yes. It is my culture. It's not just mine, but it's mine (and I was brought up in an enclave of highlanders stuck in the lowlands, so I'm not equating highland culture and Edinburgh culture).
I like it when people try. There are so many examples of people not trying that I won't bore on about them (Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster is a good example -- no one on that seems to have heard a Scot speak, let alone thinking of employing a Scottish actor). But, for example, a company came to Edinburgh during the Fringe with a play about William Wallace. Most of the actors' accents were atrocious but one of them had taught himself some gaelic and used it, and I appreciated that he'd bothered.
So if you hear me say this, and your reaction is:
"Stop telling me what to write", it looks like our conversation is over and I will never bother buying your book.
If you hear me and you say: "Actually, I was going to write a historical romance about the highlands of Scotland. Would you check it over and make sure I don't make any horrific errors like calling a man 'Tammy'?" I would smile through my teeth and agree, because although I don't think the world needs yet another romance about highlanders written by someone whose only experience of Scotland is the odd piece of shortbread with their coffee, if that's what you want to do, I appreciate that you listened and you want to avoid the horrors.
People who have an ear for accents and the will to research are surprisingly rare, and publishers do not require accuracy in what is written about Scotland -- or elsewhere, I assume -- and as a result a whole heap of rubbish is published that is borderline offensive. Borderline offensive and &*&&&ing BORING. You might not see it, other Scots might not have a problem with it, but it makes me angry.
Forgive me the rant but if all the highland romance gets under my skin, I can see why other people get cross when their culture is used as a poorly understood backdrop for The Adventures of the American (or Englishwoman or... etc etc), and I wouldn't be surprised if people who have fairly recently been treated badly by the cultures of those producing these works of fiction might find it harder than I do. And it's worse that these are the cultures that dominate publishing. I'm OK -- there's a lot of good Scottish writing (not all of it by Scots) and my culture has a lot to represent it, partly because it's part of the dominant culture itself.
[rant about Scotland ends]
I don't think we need to sit back and say: "OK then. I won't write about anything I don't know" but I do think we need to *listen* when people make these points and have the humility to recognise that just because the way in which the point is made is angry or incoherent or mis-spelt or whatever else, it doesn't necessarily invalidate the point itself. In The Guardian article a lot of people were being very polite and gentle -- far more polite and gentle than Shriver or most of the other opponents of the "cultural appropriation" idea have bothered to be (and why, one wonders, did they feel the need to be so careful about what they said?), but their message is: "Listen and be careful."
In our history we have silenced all sorts of voices. Do you think we might still be doing that?
We have always made some people's voices more important than others and it is frustrating to be turned into a cartoon or a cliche -- witness the huge fuss about that YA film where the disabled guy just wants to die.
People get angry when they're frustrated, and they shout, but I think we're doing ourselves no favours if all we can do with their pain and anger is get defensive and find reasons to ignore it. We're writers, aren't we? Do we really need to close down any form of thought on this without exploring it?
Is there anything you can see in this debate that seems worth considering? Is there any chance we can write characters more sympathetically, more thoughtfully, more effectively by listening to what people are telling us and giving it space in our heads?