One of the trickier aspects of digital life is the constant pressure to opine. To have a strong opinion on a subject, and to share it with the world. It’s literally baked into the design of the most popular platforms… ‘What’s on your mind, Jamie?’ wonders Facebook. Some of the finest minds in the world work extremely hard to encourage you to tell everyone what you’re thinking and feeling. No wonder it’s hard to resist.
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If I am honest, I know very little about most bad things going on in the world. Certainly not enough that sharing my view will inform or educate or enlighten. Yet whenever I see a news report, an urgent need rises up: what shall I say about this? I have a feeling about it – which must be shared! (And ideally in emotionally charged language, since that will receive more interactions).
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What social media has done is to make silence an active – rather than the default – choice. To speak publicly is now so easy that not doing it kind-of-implies you don’t know or don’t care about what’s going on in the world. Who wants to look ignorant or indifferent? And besides, who doesn’t want to appear kind or wise, or morally upstanding in front of others?
But the result is an undirected anger from all sides: frenetic, purposeless, habitual and above all moralising.
I agree. Of course we should criticize wrongdoing, but knee-jerk, impersonal, emotionally-charged reactions are sometimes profoundly counter-productive, and that's precisely what social media selects for. I actually wrote a blog post in August expressing very similar concerns, and I wish I could have quoted Jamie in it.
When people complain that baseball is slow, I wonder if they really mean that defense is boring. The best a defending team can do is prevent their situation from getting worse, and unlike some sports, baseball does not have turnovers. That does feel slow!
I also like to joke that being slow used to be the point. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks, I don't care if I ever get back.” Somehow, that has become, “Put a runner on second, I've got places to be!”
After sharing the previous post about dotfiles and workshops with my dad, he reminded me of a story involving Papou's workshop that reveals how just how analytical I've always been. I don't say that as a boast. There's more to life than logic.
One day, as children, my older sister and I played in Papou's workshop, emulating our beloved grandfather. We hammered at a bench, striking not nails, but rather at the flat surface of the bench itself. Our naive pride must have been cute. At some point, a confused expression came across my face. My subsequent question made everyone laugh:
Pets are not good gifts, no matter how many YouTube videos suggest otherwise. Gift-givers want to witness joyous reactions from gift recipients, and many people are genuinely joyous the moment they receive a surprise pet, but caring for an animal is a responsibility that lasts for much, much longer than that one moment. Unless the recipient has met the animal, knows for certain that the animal will be their gift, wants the animal to be their gift, and is completely prepared for that responsibility (i.e., unless there is no element of surprise at all), please do not give an animal as a gift. Even then, please think twice.
Sometimes, I think this blog is too cynical. Other times, I think it's too personal. I don't want it to resemble an adolescent diary. I don't want to be melodramatic. I do, however, want to refine my thinking and help others understand me. Writing helps tremendously with both. I'm much more clear in writing than I am in speech. I'm also much more clear in writing than I am in my own head. Do others care what I have to say? I don't know. They probably care much less than I'd like. Nevertheless, writing feels good.
The irony here is not lost on me. This post itself is rather revealing and pessimistic. That's life. Perhaps there's even a lesson there.
I'm not sure where I heard this, but it beautifully summarizes an important issue:
Every explanation fits the past.
In other words, any theory can be molded to agree with previous observations. A theory's usefulness and validity depends more so on whether it can correctly guess what will happen in the future, whether it has predictive power.