Modern life feels treacherous; a wrong step often brings about a torrent of anxiety crashing upon the deck of one’s mind like a ship doomed to sink amidst a fierce hurricane. I sometimes wonder why the universe would impart such consequential choices into the brains of a species such as ourselves if there’s only ever one shot at life. Whatever entity is out there, I think, wants to make us realize how inconsequential we are, or at least make us waste our whole lives wondering if we made the right choice, or maybe it’s not even aware we’re here. There is hubris in thinking we’re the point of the universe. Did billions and billions of years pass just so the universe could produce you and me? No matter the case, life can sometimes feel like a curse of knowing too much, a sickness that confines us to hours of screentime as passive observers longing for the blissful ignorance of a pet dog or cat. A certain scene in A Clockwork Orange springs to mind.
And I’m not even talking about cancel culture. Society is necessary to our species’ survival, and having rules on how to function within polite society, I think, is ultimately useful. Now, where those boundaries lie has been a subject of fierce debate throughout history, but if you ever want to see proof that boundaries are integral to the human project, take a look at the various sites that proudly brag about having little to no moderation versus those that do. I would make a bet on which site people think has the better user experience.
I’m also not saying that shame should be snuffed out of the human catalogue of emotions. There is a place for shame. It’s a feeling that is fundamental to the human experience and an emotion intrinsically tied to the rules of polite society. What we collectively deem as shameful is another subject of vigorous debate, but I don’t think it’s a good thing if humans lose their capacity to feel ashamed. It can be a potent deterrent if wielded effectively.
What I’m really trying to say is that ten to twenty years ago, these boundaries felt clearer than they are today. Not all of the unspoken rules back then were right. By no means, but at least they were clear. And people back then did make conscious reasons to stray outside those boundaries, and often for good reason, in the hopes of expanding who and what gets included in acceptable society. But, on the whole, it was just harder to argue where society stood on certain things.
So What Happened?
It is sometimes said that social media’s biggest sin is that it gave too many people a voice. Billions of people right now can express their opinions online in a way that was impossible decades ago. While ostensibly true, the fallout that we are dealing with today isn’t a result of too many people speaking but instead social media giving the microphone to all the loudest, wrong kinds of people: grifters, clout chasers, idiots, sociopaths, etc.
The rest of us are then merely relegated to being passive viewers rather than active participants in the shaping of society, blessed with the opportunity to speak but damned to scream into the void. So, in a bid for some modicum of power and control, rapid identification and demarcation of groups and groups within groups and groups within groups within groups occurs. There exists a radical need to stack labels on top of each other in ways that weren’t feasible before. Instead of one society, a million different little societies, each with its own set of boundaries, spring up, oftentimes overlapping with each other in part or in whole. Some of these social circles make you keenly aware of your membership within them and the rules that govern them, and other groups keep it a secret that you were a member until someone informs you of the transgression of disobeying the boundaries of that society.
It becomes a sort of supercharged tribalism. Instead of one in and out group, there are a million in and out groups in conflict.
And as society splinters and continues to do so, it becomes easier to just watch people duke it out in comments and threads instead of diving in. It’s easier to let the world fly by without you instead of trying to make your imprint. Dipping a toe in means you might offend someone, ignore someone, mention the wrong someone, say something you don’t mean, say something you don’t fully understand, not say something you should, get accused of doing something you didn’t do, or not get appreciation for something you did do. And that all can be the result of good-faith commentators and critics. There’s a whole other coterie of pundits that exist to do all of that and more in bad faith in the hopes of fulfilling an agenda or making money off outrage.
And as if that wasn’t enough, add to it the heinous actions of powerful forces and the sad, predictable results of broken systems dispatched to our eyeballs in bite-sized chunks a thousand times a day in the hopes that we sit here anesthetized to all of it, our brains tend to reason that it’s easier this way. Watching from afar will mean less trouble. Don’t get involved.
It’s anxiety-inducing to a debilitating degree.
So, What Is The Incentive Then To Speak?
I can think of only two good reasons to do so.
The first is that speaking is the only cure I know of for this particular brand of sickness; the only salve for feeling bad about not doing things is to actually try and do them, no matter the cost. And even if it’s a small action or a small thought. Say it. Do it.
The second is that the only way to be remembered is to live every day through your actions.
And in a world full of sick people, that’s what any human would want, right? A cure for what ails them and a way to live forever. Speaking becomes an expression of self-preservation, ultimately. One that takes the long view and certainly took me a long time to realize.
So if the wrong people are leading us, the world is truly falling apart, and the internet has ruptured the world into moronic fiefdoms that metastasize, reproduce, and split incessantly. The solution is not to shut up. It is to make noise. It’s to speak the words that you have been bottling up all this time and do the things you’ve always wanted to do.
And it doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be like the lowest common denominator, authenticity, or pandering. But it does have to be authentically you.
That’s the rationale I’ve come to, at least.