After writing an opinion column for more than 30 years, I gotta say it was much more fun when fewer people had opinions. Actually, it's not like people didn't have opinions all these years, it's that they had less of an opportunity to express them.
Before Satan allowed them—I mean you—to sign up for Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and every other social media platform, they—err, you—basically had no one to share an opinion with outside a handful of co-workers, maybe, or select family members. Sharing an opinion never worked at church because everyone lies at church, anyway. It's the place where everyone agrees to agree, except they really don't.
For most of those 30 years, persons who had an opinion about my opinion, or City Weekly's opinion, wrote us letters to the editor. We used to get stacks of them each week, and we'd print as many as space would allow. A printed letter to the editor required a person to sign the letter and grant permission for us to print it. An editor or intern called those letter-writers to validate that it was a real person sending the message.
There have only been a few times when we printed a letter under the banner of "Anonymous." And even those were after careful vetting from which we decided that the message itself was important enough that we violate our own rule.
Knowing there was a real person behind those letters made for a real opportunity for me. I was especially fond of those writers who took the time to weigh in on a subject, and I've tried to reach back to as many as I could with a thank you.
But when someone wrote an angry or even a threatening letter, I'd write back, and we'd punch back and forth until the banter led to the only sensible conclusion there was. That is, we'd decide to meet face to face for a drink or lunch or coffee. That has happened countless times. To gain the respect of a former foe is a good feeling. I made some pretty good friends over time who were at first duty- or honor-bound to dislike me.
No matter, it worked. Friendships were made and opinions were made to matter. To be sure, my opinions sometimes changed as well. That's the way it should work. People can agree to disagree, they can agree to speak openly, then they can agree to break bread.
But it no longer works that way. Not even close. On social media, as often as not, a person—or bot—that disagrees with any opinion will cast a narrow net around a select few tried-and-true phrases: you suck; you're an ass; you're an idiot; and so on.
I can't deny I've used those same phrases when expressing my own opinions, especially on Twitter. It's true. I've said at various times that Rep. Chris Stewart sucks, that Rep. Burgess Owens is an ass, and that Sen. Mike Lee is an idiot. Or maybe I've said all of that about all three. I consider each to be horrible human beings and hardly mind saying so.
If they were cast in movie villain roles, Stewart would be Nurse Ratched as he shares her trait of not helping at all when people under her charge are hurt or in pain. Lee is Iago, the dangerous manipulator, seemingly a righteous good guy on one hand, but too willing to deviate by any means and tell any lie. Owens is Count Dracula, an opportunistic blood sucker who only comes out to do harm when no one is looking and otherwise doesn't do a damned thing.
On each of those occasions, as today, my name appears as it does on my birth certificate. I am certifiably real and certifiably no fan of those men. That's not how it plays out on social media, though. Using a real name and an avatar that even remotely resembles the author is a rarity. I'm as likely to be maligned by Borg7patriotzinger as the next guy, and maybe the next guy doesn't mind, but whoever Borg7patriotzinger is remains a mystery. That troubles me because having a beer with Borg7patriotzinger seems risky. I wouldn't even know if Borg7, for short, lives nearby (I will not drive beyond Ogden to drink a beer) or is even a real person. Lordy knows those Russians are better at playing social media than I am. I think they're just trying to rile me up.
And that's the rub. What I'm saying isn't new or clever. It's been said since the advent of social media—the willingness of everyone to pop off without accountability is harming the crap out of us. There was a time when dialogue was civil—the topics may have been objectionable, but the motive for creating dialogue wasn't sinister. That's no longer true. In the good old days when someone popped off with a bad take—say, in a bar, when a guy pulled a demeaning hustle on a waitress—he might have gotten a black eye. He changed his behavior or found a new bar. That's civil, right?
Today, bad behavior begets more bad behavior. I know the real names of some social media crazies. They're only emboldened because they can hide behind their silly stars and stripes parakeet bandito avatar. Take away their superpower, anonymity—and anonymity is indeed powerful as you saw during the Jan. 6 cosplay insurrection—and those folks would return to the decent citizens they were raised to be.
Pull away the masks. Deny the avatars. No more anonymity. Only then can we see each other for who we are, not who our comic minds want us to be.
Send comments to john@cityweekly.net.