It is a pet theory of mine that over the last 30 years
the level of discourse in the United States has devolved into
a particularly vitriolic form of “I-Know-You-Are-But-What-Am-I.” Intelligent discussion these days, or at least what passes for it, features more labels than an anal retentive’s spice rack.
The level of civility, never mind thoughtful discussion, has plummeted so violently that the smallest disagreement is now a personal attack, the slightest criticism is a military incursion on someone’s self-esteem, and anyone who doesn’t see the world through the same shade of rose-colored glasses gets shoveled unceremoniously onto the quickly growing dung heap with the “extremists", bigots, homophobes, Yuppies, Generation X’ers, socialists, hate mongers, tree huggers and whatever-bashers.
Perhaps my reaction to this is the first sign of old-fogeyness creeping in, but how draining is it to save our strength for the big stuff and let the little things go by with a simple excuse me? On the karmic score sheet, no one gives a damn whether that old lady at the train station bumped into you or you bumped into her; just say “sorry” and you can both get on with your lives.
Aren’t there enough real slights and wrongs in the world without our making up new ones? Isn’t there enough evil and destructiveness without inflating the petty villains into monsters? If I hear one more person compare Pat Buchanan to Hitler, I will be compelled to jam a little understatement up their hyperbole.
Make no mistake, I wouldn’t vote for the man if he threatened to drop hot coals down my throat, but please, HITLER? Buchanan isn’t evil enough to polish Hitler’s pitchfork. Why is it so hard in this relativistic world to simply say that someone is WRONG?
The culture of touchiness, however, has made it necessary for us to treat every offense as a mini-Holocaust. It is hard to imagine that this doesn’t trickle down into the way we treat our fellow human beings. Ever have a screaming fit because someone didn’t signal before changing into your lane in morning rush hour? See what I mean?
This tension is palpable enough as we walk through the minefield of everyday life, but it’s even worse in the hamlets and townships of the Internet. I, frankly, don’t even look at newsgroups anymore because a while ago, it became quite clear to me that awaiting even my most innocuous comment was some trembling, fragile ego hoping, begging, to be offended or spurred to rage.
To these over-caffeinated flame heads, my admiration of Cal Ripken was a brutal and unignorable attack on their cultural heritage, their social class, and their maiden aunt’s virtue. And heaven forbid I misquote dear Cal’s lifetime average to the seventeenth decimal point else I am laid waste in a flurry of personal attacks on my intelligence, team loyalty, and, in one instance, my ability to feed myself.
I have no reason to expect to be treated any better on the Internet than I am in everyday life. I have no naive delusions that on the Internet, we are all equals; that we love each other and take care of one another and our differences are treasured, not set upon like a lame gazelle in hyena territory. We don’t walk around Mr. Gates’ neighborhood like some hot-wired Care Bears spewing sweetness and understanding. Yet there are the Utopians out there who believe this and sell it like so much miracle tonic to the uninformed, unwired masses. These lambs tiptoe online and suddenly realize that they are not wrapped in the bosom of “cyberhugs”, but in the same cut-throat rat race they left outside their well-fortified door. Is it any wonder many people are terrified of the Internet?
The fact is that we take our personalities, prejudices and defense mechanisms online with us and there is no reason to expect a BETTER world in the ether. On the other hand, the extreme touchiness which surfaces when people flick on that modem is, frankly, a bit stunning. What is it about sitting behind a keyboard that turns us all into the Joe Pesci of “GoodFellas”?
I have a few theories.
First, until recently the Internet was a closed community. More importantly, it was a meritocracy: only those with a certain threshold of esoteric know-how could even get online. Then, suddenly, the gates were thrown open and all these people who barely knew how to turn on their PCs were running around getting underfoot. There went the neighborhood, as they say, and the former intelligentsia shifted from mere superiority to sheer contempt for all newcomers. You can feel the negativity when you venture into any part of the Internet with even the vaguest technical overtones and (gasp!) ask for help.
To be honest, though, these people are not the problem any more. There just aren’t that many of them and the new user friendliness of the Internet over recent years has caused their influence to wane.
The problem now are those who learned from the “old boys” and who are a bit more net savvy than the average user. The level of arrogance displayed by these poseurs is almost comical. To them, the biggest rush is to flame some poor AOL user to within an inch of his or her life. In my day, these guys used to beat up anyone who knew anything about computers. Now they beat up anyone who knows less than they. These bullies didn’t earn their Internet credentials any more than the father of two who has just come online, but in Surly World, everyone needs to feel superior to someone.
Second, there is fundamental limitation of the Internet which virtually guarantees misunderstanding: everything is communicated by the written word. Unless you are a skilled writer (and even then not always) written expression cannot convey emotion, sarcasm, irony or emphasis, and immediate clarification is dauntingly difficult.
A case in point: In a thread about the baseball strike, someone made a comment that the strike would come to a quick end if the fans would just sue both the owners and the players. I considered this, frankly, a simple-minded and wrong-headed idea and, since others were agreeing with him, I thought I should step in and argue against him; quite politely, mind you.
In clear terms I suggested that his idea would not work; by legal standards, he would be (and I believe this is the technical term for it) laughed out of the courthouse. I immediately received back an acidic and condescending reply in which HE told ME, for my benefit of course, what I was TRYING to say. Not content, he then told me why that too was wrong. Not only had he flagrantly misunderstood what I said, he then proceeded to insult me.
Not one to take a slight lightly, I wrote a scathing reply without so much as a hint of civility in which I told him how he could help himself and where he could buy the equipment necessary to do it.
But I never sent it. I had one of those out-of-body experiences in which I looked down upon myself from above and was horrified by what I saw. Simply because someone misread my posting which, it is possible, was not as crystal clear as I felt it was, I was about to pull up my drawbridge and ignite a full-scale flame battle. I can tell you that I’m none the worse for letting it slide.
Thirdly, the Internet allows people, with total impunity, to make statements they would never make to another’s face. The anonymity granted by the Internet has unleashed some of our darkest feelings. Online, no one can punch you in the nose.
How many gigabytes have been wasted because some impotent coward decided to nail his pathetic theses on the cathedral door by posting “[Insert Ethnic Group Here] MUST DIE!!” These threads go on for months! All these people want is to make you froth at the mouth, and it works every time. In reality, it's fairly easy to ignore this kind of attack, but they do breed a climate of defensiveness that makes us quick to respond to such cowardly attacks.
This, then, is my appeal for a little civility online. How hard is it to just walk away?
Remember, it’s even easier than in the real world. My musings here will have no impact on the greatest offenders, but I can appeal to the rest of you to exercise a bit of restraint and move on. If you possess such a fragile self image that you can be egged to rage because someone thinks Allison is the hottest chick on Melrose Place and you’re an Amanda man, then you shouldn’t be handling electrical equipment anyway.
Turn off the computer and take a time-out. You can rejoin the class when you’ve learned your lesson.
 
Greg Kramer is a freelance writer living in Calgary, Alberta who maintains a fragile relationship with his computer; somewhere between matrimony and defenestration. All thoughtful rebuttals, kudos, rants and/or raves, web site recommendations, or input of any kind is gladly accepted at kramerg@cadivision.com
