The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
The Go-Between, L.P. Hartley.
A year ago I posted a podcast episode dissecting an article titled ‘The Illusion of Moral Decline’ by Adam Mastroianni and Daniel Gilbert. The paper challenges anecdotal evidence documenting the belief that morality is declining in society. If you want a more in depth analysis of these themes, I recommend checking out the article and my episode. Since then, I have had more thoughts about this topic relating specifically to social media, which is what I will be discussing in this post.
Meanness has grown faceless.
It has always been there, conspicuously, in the form of blonde mean girls and bully jocks, only now it can hide. It has morphed into an anonymous entity, nebulous, ineffable. Hard to pin down. It is relentless and commonplace.
These are the thoughts that run through my mind when I scroll on a well known social media app that rhymes with minster-gram. Like a toxic ex, I frequently delete the app and redownload it, sometimes in the same day. Many things I come across make me laugh or smile, I’m not giving it up because of the cute dog videos but something far more sinister. I quit. Maybe.
This post has been brewing inside me for a while and today, as I came across a truly awful string of comments, I decided that it was finally time for me to write it.
A woman posted a video about how the male high school students in her class made inappropriate comments about her outfit and complained to a senior authority. Her outfit was discreet and harmless, fitted black suit trousers and a loose grey jumper. There was nothing to suggest that this was a lewd outfit to be wearing in a school. The male students were not reprimanded yet the teacher was made to feel ashamed.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to see in the comments of the video, perhaps rallies of support from women who have experienced similar events, or perhaps a more nuanced discussion of the subject. What I did see made me baulk.
You’re not all that, get over yourself.
Totally inappropriate outfit.
Slut.
Is the hot and smart in the room with us?
Notably, many of these comments were from men, however, women are not innocent. Although there is certainly a gendered element to this issue, it is by no means limited to men versus women. Yet I do wonder. Why exactly was it that a man in a park felt comfortable saying to me Screw you and screw your poem. Don’t take yourself so seriously when I gently suggested that I’d be happy to read him some of my work should he ask rather than coming up behind me. When I offered to write him a poem on my typewriter, his first question was I don’t know. Are they any good? The instant hostility was jarring. Some people feel entitled to others’ attention, especially in a public domain. I just wonder, would he have said those words to a man?
Although social media has become a place where casual meanness is the norm and thriving—where people vent their frustrations and project onto others on a daily basis, this doesn’t discount the animosity that occurs in real life. Although the rest of the people I interacted with the same day as a man told me to screw myself were lovely, I still left with that negative interaction biting at me, stinging the back of my neck, squeezing my chest tight.
It causes me to contemplate, was it worth it? What did he get out of that? My lack of response seemed to goad him and speechless as I was, the only words I could manage were have a good day, Sir. Of course, these were sarcastic, but I said them with some sincerity because in truth I pitied him. I wondered what could have gone so wrong in his life that he felt the desperate urge to belittle a 24 year old woman sitting in the park typing poetry for strangers.
I had gone out hoping to find connection and I did, just not in the ways I expected. For every 10 pleasant interactions you have, it will be the sole unpleasant one that stays with you. I have been that person. I have been snippy with strangers, impatient, sarcastic, patronising even. I have stung with shame afterwards. I have cried about it. I wonder if he felt a touch of regret nagging at him? I have no authority to speculate.
There did appear to be a woman with him and I wonder who she was to him. A friend? Partner? Family member? She followed behind and seemed unruffled, perhaps not noticing the extent of the exchange fully. Does she know him well? Could she account for his behaviour or defend him? Would he bare his true self to anyone in the way he did with me?
These are all questions I will never get the answer to and you may be wondering why this interaction had such a profound impact on me. One of my flatmates did at least, that really bothered you, didn’t it? It was less a question and more a statement. The sting of shame returned. Should it not have? Am I too sensitive? Perhaps.
When I scroll through comment threads, I feel despair witnessing casual cruelty directed at people’s appearance, integrity, circumstances, and whole host of other targets. It makes me consider if there are few ‘good’ people left. But when I go outside and return a smile from a stranger; someone gives me their parking ticket as they’re leaving, or stops to let me know that my backpack is open, I have some hope. Even if it’s just a morsel.
We are all fallible. Nobody is spared from a bad day and, as dramatic as it sounds, when I am on the receiving end of hostility or contempt, I tell myself that they may have received the worst news of their life shortly before. You never know. But I do know one thing.
It is wise to choose kindness. Even when it’s hard.
I wholeheartedly agree with this. People can be so unkind. I have had events like that stay with me too.