I can't help but think about a lot of the things that have been splashed around all over social media and the news. I honestly hope that the most vitriolic and ugly were spewed in the heat of the moment by people who, maybe, were a bit ashamed of themselves the next day for things they put out that they would not have said face to face to much of anyone. But words do mean things, and even those who regret the things they have said can't take them back. Which perhaps means that we--all of us---need to think more about the things we say, especially online.
There are words, and there are words.
Words can divide us. We can use words to polarize an issue, to rally our “tribes” around us, to signify solidarity and belonging with a particular group, to lash out at “them.” Such words grab attention. Latching on to systems in our brains that are hard-wired to respond to possible threats, they provoke immediate responses of defensiveness, fear, anger, and virtue signaling—words that widen the rift between “Us” and “Them.” Every issue becomes a shibboleth used to separate the “righteous” from those who fail to support this identity or that cause.
Those who create the algorithms that drive our digital world know this. Remarks and posts that play to anger, fear, self-righteousness, and envy draw far more clicks and likes than those that show more nuanced views. They are also more likely to show up on your feeds and searches, fueling the cycle of threat-response. Lash out with ugly epithets and accusations against someone you don’t agree with, and your status will shoot up with others who hold similar positions; you might even go viral and be considered an “influencer.” Attempt to be a peacemaker and you pay both with less exposure and with attacks from both sides from the sort of people whose idea of “toleration” is 100 percent support for their position and who will accept nothing else.
Bluntly, it is far easier to make profits of whatever kind—money, power, social approval, or attention—from vice than virtue. Whipping up an argument or a mob takes far less effort than holding a reasoned discourse; calling on others to exercise disciplined thought and emotional self-control is never popular. Grasping on to a label or some small facet of human experience, making that an “identity,” and using it as a ticket to a sense of importance, belonging, or “specialness” is an easy way to define one’s own worth and that of others but is ultimately destructive to both the self and society. Seeking to develop oneself as a complete human being who can work, play, love, and worship freely—what used to be called “character building” or even “soul making”—is much harder, requiring reflection, self-examination, honesty, and humility.
Ultimately, we are imperfect creatures and will always communicate imperfectly with each other, at least in this life. But we can choose our words to build bridges instead of factions. We can choose to ignore “microaggressions,” freeing ourselves from the burdens of carrying a chip on our shoulders and maintaining a constant lookout for offense. (As one person wiser than I said, “Never attribute to malice what you can attribute to ignorance.”) We can look for healthier ways to create our own self-images than clinging to stunted “identities” requiring constant “validation”; sometimes, the most loving thing another person can do for us is to apply a kick in the pants instead of a pat on the back when it comes to self-centered or self-destructive behavior. We can choose to acknowledge that we aren’t all-knowing gods, to extend goodwill, and to agree to disagree—maybe even to say, “you know, you might have a point there”—instead of demanding 100 percent compliance with our own views. There are some things worth defending at all cost, but the great majority of things we quarrel and spew venom over don’t fall in that category. Isn’t it better to seek peace and wholeness, even if they are costly, than cheap wins at someone else’s expense?
“Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said. I don’t know that I’m very good at it, but I think at least trying is worth a lot more over the long haul than counting up likes and views. How about you?
There are words, and there are words.
Words can divide us. We can use words to polarize an issue, to rally our “tribes” around us, to signify solidarity and belonging with a particular group, to lash out at “them.” Such words grab attention. Latching on to systems in our brains that are hard-wired to respond to possible threats, they provoke immediate responses of defensiveness, fear, anger, and virtue signaling—words that widen the rift between “Us” and “Them.” Every issue becomes a shibboleth used to separate the “righteous” from those who fail to support this identity or that cause.
Those who create the algorithms that drive our digital world know this. Remarks and posts that play to anger, fear, self-righteousness, and envy draw far more clicks and likes than those that show more nuanced views. They are also more likely to show up on your feeds and searches, fueling the cycle of threat-response. Lash out with ugly epithets and accusations against someone you don’t agree with, and your status will shoot up with others who hold similar positions; you might even go viral and be considered an “influencer.” Attempt to be a peacemaker and you pay both with less exposure and with attacks from both sides from the sort of people whose idea of “toleration” is 100 percent support for their position and who will accept nothing else.
Bluntly, it is far easier to make profits of whatever kind—money, power, social approval, or attention—from vice than virtue. Whipping up an argument or a mob takes far less effort than holding a reasoned discourse; calling on others to exercise disciplined thought and emotional self-control is never popular. Grasping on to a label or some small facet of human experience, making that an “identity,” and using it as a ticket to a sense of importance, belonging, or “specialness” is an easy way to define one’s own worth and that of others but is ultimately destructive to both the self and society. Seeking to develop oneself as a complete human being who can work, play, love, and worship freely—what used to be called “character building” or even “soul making”—is much harder, requiring reflection, self-examination, honesty, and humility.
Ultimately, we are imperfect creatures and will always communicate imperfectly with each other, at least in this life. But we can choose our words to build bridges instead of factions. We can choose to ignore “microaggressions,” freeing ourselves from the burdens of carrying a chip on our shoulders and maintaining a constant lookout for offense. (As one person wiser than I said, “Never attribute to malice what you can attribute to ignorance.”) We can look for healthier ways to create our own self-images than clinging to stunted “identities” requiring constant “validation”; sometimes, the most loving thing another person can do for us is to apply a kick in the pants instead of a pat on the back when it comes to self-centered or self-destructive behavior. We can choose to acknowledge that we aren’t all-knowing gods, to extend goodwill, and to agree to disagree—maybe even to say, “you know, you might have a point there”—instead of demanding 100 percent compliance with our own views. There are some things worth defending at all cost, but the great majority of things we quarrel and spew venom over don’t fall in that category. Isn’t it better to seek peace and wholeness, even if they are costly, than cheap wins at someone else’s expense?
“Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said. I don’t know that I’m very good at it, but I think at least trying is worth a lot more over the long haul than counting up likes and views. How about you?