When Wisdom Becomes WTF
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These days we can go straight from brain to thumbs, by-passing sensibilities, filters and better judgements. There is no brake or restraint.
Facebook memories are wonderful! Each day I’m reminded of lovely holidays, special events and time with loved ones.
Not so great is being reminded of the cringe-worthy shite that I posted years ago, like the “I’ll give you just enough, so you’ll ask what’s up,” fishing for attention comments.
Or “I’m making a profound statement,” that only two people liked, and one of them was me. I’m consoled knowing I’ve come a long way in my social media maturity, and eternally grateful I didn’t share my inner polarising spontaneous thoughts. You know; the ugly ones that should stay in my head.
When I was a teenager a phone upgrade was when we got an extension cord that turned our chunky plastic landline into a mobile device, with a range long enough I could have a private conversation in the hall closet.
I could share my opinions with my friends who couldn’t record, forward or have someone else listening in on speaker so if my friend became my foe, I could deny the conversation took place and move on with my life.
Nowadays it’s locked into the annals of the world’s most unsecure vault with the entire population of the planet being the gatekeeper.
I’m talking about the vexatious, anger-driven dark thoughts that us humans have had as long as we’ve walked upright. The irrational hate speech that had an audience of one. The wicked stuff that you would never share, or if you did it would be with like-minded confidantes whom you could trust not to repeat it. So why think it if you are not going to say it? Because we are not our thoughts.
Let’s explore that statement for a moment: We are not our thoughts. You might think, “but they’re in my head, so who else’s thoughts are they?” Fair enough and I’m no psychologist but suffice to say this statement is verified in psychology and has proven profoundly helpful for many people.
It’s not to suggest the thought isn’t there and that it didn’t appear in your head, but you get to decide what you are going to do with that thought. You can decide if you want to participate. You can decide if it’s good or bad. You can decide if you want to act on it or share it.
We have gone from saying salacious stuff, hearsay, where time and recollection could heal wounds and retractions came easy, to allowing our thumbs to do the talking.
Our opinions, now, are being called upon every minute of every day, with every post, photo and tweet. The rolled-up newspaper that you’d collect from your doorstep each morning and spread out on your kitchen table required pen, paper, stamped envelope, and days in the post in order for you to voice your opinion on anything that was written.
By the time you sealed the envelope, you’d had time to consider your initial reaction and reflect upon that reply. These days we can go straight from brain to thumbs, by-passing sensibilities, filters and better judgements. There is no brake or restraint.
Then the remorse might set in; or might not as seems to be the case moreover these days. People are posting stupid, ignorant, hurtful stuff then doubling down trying to justify the unjustifiable. Have we forgotten the word ‘sorry’? You know, the one our mums made us say if we were mean or said a bad thing.
For those who manage this simple but effective way of apologising for being a douche many are delayed and only when their hip pocket or popularity is at risk, do they post their heartfelt retraction.
More seriously, I do wonder how it affects our psyche. Let’s say I post something stupid from my inside-head voice and I’m too embarrassed to admit I was wrong. Then when challenged for my pearl of ignorance I defend myself and double-down on my thumb-driven diarrhoea and before I know it, I’m an advocate for a cause I don’t even agree with. I’m buoyed by one faction and booed by another as the comments fly, aligning or separating myself from people whose values and principles I don’t even know.
I now have to hold that line and become that person, unless I’m prepared to lose face. This may have polarised my view on something that was just a fleeting thought. Something that I would have thought twice about, if I hadn’t committed to a narrative that I must now defend.
The frightening thing is these sliding doors moments are happening every day, multiplied by millions of people, all of whom vote.
Social media has given many voiceless a voice and has furthered many good causes. I want it to stay. I think there is a fine line between hate speech and freedom of speech, and I offer no insight into where that line is other than be guided by my own internal morality.
Who knows what the answer is, as a generation grows who knows no different? My only suggestion is before you comment, reply, or post, put your phone on the bench and go sit in the hall closet a while. Sometimes what goes on in your head, should stay in your head.
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