Are You Trying to Produce Change or Just Venting? The “You Idiot” Test

How can you tell if that catchy Facebook meme or bumpersticker slogan is a means to produce change in the world, or just a way to vent your frustration? Here’s one easy test: if adding the words “you idiot” to the end of it sounds natural, it’s venting.

Here’s an example. There’s a busy road I sometimes travel which runs through a residential neighborhood and past two schools. A kid got hit a while back, so there’s reason for concern. Residents have put up yard signs to get drivers to slow down. But are these signs really a good way to slow traffic, or are they a way for residents to voice their frustration with speedy drivers?

Compare the two most popular signs. One says, “Drive like your children live here.” Now, if you say it in exactly the right tone of voice, you can make “Drive like your children live here, you idiot,” sound natural, but you do have to work at it.

On the other hand, “Slow down. This is a residential neighborhood, not a race track, you idiot,” sounds natural with no effort at all.

Why should this matter to the people choosing a sign? Well, how do you react to the unsolicited advice of a stranger who clearly thinks you are an idiot? Right. Unless you are superhumanly patient, you get annoyed and decide that it is the stranger who is the real idiot. And why should you listen to anything that idiot has to say?

Given this fact about human nature, why are there so many Facebook posts and signs that seem intended to change behavior (e.g. drive slowly, wear a mask) but which are phrased in ways almost guaranteed to make them unproductive? The answer, I guess, is that these posts are also very clever and entertaining to the people posting them and their friends. And it just feels satisfying to tell people what you really think of them.

But if you actually want to accomplish something–get drivers to slow down, say–then telling people you think they are idiots is at best useless and at worst counterproductive. How many drivers, I wonder, saw the racetrack sign and speeded up, just to annoy the person who’d put it there?

So before you put up that sign or post that meme, try adding “you idiot” to the end and see if it sounds natural. Then decide whether your goal is to produce change, or to vent your frustrations in a clever turn of phrase.

Till next post.

P.S. When I looked the sign up online, I found it labeled “Funny caution sign.” So maybe that’s how the people who put it up viewed it–a gently humorous way to say “Slow down.” But I can attest to the fact that it did not come across that way when I saw it, a sad illustration of the gap that can exist between our intentions with words and the way they are actually received.

A Rule of Life for Facebook Posts–thoughts after reading Michael Curry's "Love Is the Way"

 

I recently took part in an Advent book study of Bishop Michael Curry’s Love Is the Way: Holding on to Hope in Troubling Times. Partway through, we were given an assignment: to consider the section on creating a Rule of Life, and think about how we might apply it in our own lives. I ended up missing the subsequent discussion session, but decided to write up my thoughts and use it as a blog post.

A Rule of Life is meant to be a set of personal guidelines to help us do a better job of living in accordance with our own highest values. Rather than try to compose a Rule of Life for my whole life, which is a huge thing to think about and really requires a continuing effort, I decided just to formulate a Rule of Life for Facebook posts. If I want to post on Facebook in a way that accords with my values, what should I do or not do?

I’ve narrowed it down to three rules, more or less: one “Do post,” one “Don’t post,” and one “Maybe post.”

Do: post funny and hopeful things from my life. Silly cat photos, attempts at creative bread-making, a special star, colored lights. These are the kinds of things I enjoy seeing from others, and these are the posts that are more likely to be enjoyed by others and very unlikely to upset them. (Okay, it might be annoying if I actually posted photos of every loaf of bread I ever baked, but I’m assuming common sense here.)

Don’t: rant. Rants should be reserved for people who know and understand me, delivered in person or by phone, and given plenty of context. An out-of-context rant can make a person seem considerably more ugly than they really are. People who know me can sympathize with me or tell me if I am going off the deep end, and either way, won’t hold my rant against me. (Again, I’m assuming common sense here. Choose an appropriate person to rant to.)

There might be an exception for rants about things that don’t involve other people. It might be okay to rant about mosquitoes in summer, or about the way I utterly messed up a loaf of bread.

Maybe post: responses to other people’s posts and comments on current events or world situations, if they can meet three criteria.

First, is the post based on good information? This is a lot like saying, “Is it true?” There have been too many times when I read about something that happened and immediately reacted to it, only to later read a different account and realize that I hadn’t fully understood the situation. Sometimes I think I have informed myself well enough by looking at several articles on-line, and then discover I haven’t actually looked at conflicting views and so have still missed a lot. It isn’t possible to be fully informed—but it’s possible at least to read more than one person’s take on a situation.

Second, is the post courteously worded? In Love Is the Way, Bishop Curry lists MLK, Jr’s Ten Commandments of Nonviolence. Number six is “Observe with both friend and foe the ordinary rules of courtesy.” When you post on Facebook, you are addressing human beings, mostly friends, but possibly also foes. (Remember, you can never be sure who will end up reading anything you put on-line.) Be courteous. Don’t name-call.

As a practical matter, I find that posts that do a lot of name-calling make me angry with the person who posted, even if I actually agree with the general message of the post. The words come across as venomous and spiteful. There is nothing to be gained in being deliberately offensive.

Third and most difficult to determine, is the post well-intentioned? No matter how politely worded the post may be, is the point of posting it to be helpful, or to be subtly snarky? To inform, or to show off one’s superior knowledge? To encourage someone to think about something differently, or to score a point?

Here I’ll cite Number Two of those ten commandments: “Remember always that the nonviolent movement seeks justice and reconciliation—not victory.” In posting, am I really trying to do something productive, or do I just want to be right? Or more exactly, am I seeking to make other people admitI am right?

There’s a saying that I think is quite wise when properly interpreted: “You can be right, or you can be married.” I interpret it to mean that if you insist your partner acknowledge that you are right every time you are right, you aren’t going to have much of a relationship. Especially since sometimes you will actually be wrong.

The fact is, people hate being wrong. If you press them hard to admit that they are wrong, they are likely to try to defend their view even if they are having doubts about it. Worse, defending their view will make it even more difficult for them to give it up. If instead you reduce the cost to them of admitting that they are wrong (even just admitting it to themselves), that  makes it easier for them to change their mind.

Going back to the original question, “Is the post well-intentioned?”, I have to admit that sometimes the answer is going to be “Yes…and also, no.” Sometimes I can’t help wanting to show off a little, or be acknowledged right. But at least it’s worth thinking hard about when choosing my words.

A Rule of Life (for Facebook posts or otherwise) is supposed to help you express your highest values in the way you live your life. I haven’t said what those values are, in my case, and it occurs to me that I am doing things backwards—coming up with rules before coming up with the values they are meant to promote. Oh well. Working backwards,  my highest values, at least as far as Facebook posts are concerned, are not clever wit (though that can be fun to read) or the promotion of creative endeavors (though I know some very creative people I would like to promote and know ofmany more) or making myself look good (though admittedly I’m trying to post from my best side). I guess that when it comes to Facebook and my Facebook friends, I value people working together–hopefully to make the world a better place for everyone.

Virtual Versions of Real-world Activities–tidier, simpler, safer…but no substitute

Is there any danger that parents will let virtual versions of activities edge out the originals, perhaps in the interests of ease and tidiness? I hope not. The things kids learn from doing things in the real world cannot be replaced by virtual activities.

Let me start with some examples of virtual versions of real-world activities.
First,  consider “Cooking Mama”, a video game in which one follows procedures to “cook” various dishes. My daughter enjoyed this game when she was younger, and incidentally learned a few things about what ingredients go into what. That’s fine. But I would hate for anyone to regard this as cooking practice. Chopping pretend carrots is very different from chopping real ones. Safer, of course, but chopping real carrots gives a child practice in dealing with the physical world–in handling a knife, he judges how to position food for safe chopping, how much pressure to use, and how to keep his fingers out of the way. Similarly, while a child can’t get burned sauteeing virtual onions, neither will he learn how to judge doneness by sight and smell, nor discover that it matters how much oil is in the pan and how high the heat is.
Second,  consider computer art programs, which have gotten very good at imitating the appearance of paint, charcoal, and other media.  Digital art is a medium in its own right, with its own unique possibilities, and worth doing for itself. But it uses skills different from those required when applying actual pigment to a surface. Using a paint-tip in an art program does not require a child to judge whether there is enough—or far too much—paint on the brush. You cannot break a stick of virtual charcoal by pressing too hard. And while art programs include techniques not available with physical media such as paint, they also restrict the child in other ways.  She cannot mess around,  applying paint with toothpicks, sponges, or other objects at hand, discovering new effects in the process. Of course, she also can’t get paint all over her clothes, the table, and the bathroom sink.
My third example is pets, which is what prompted this post. When my daughter was young, Webkinz were popular, and Tamagotchi, and there seemed to be many games that let you “keep” a virtual pet. We also had real pets, and I kept noticing the differences between a virtual pet and a real one. Real pets are messy—sometimes very messy!—and the consequences of neglecting them more serious. Real pets are also much less predictable, and this is both good and bad. Good when they do clever, funny things that we never expected, like meowing when someone sneezes. Bad when they decide to go outside the litter box, or lick the frosting off the gingerbread house. Our real pets had personalities and quirks that slowly revealed themselves—one cat bold and forever searching the floor for crumbs, the other timid and prone to chewing on things, whether pencils, fingers, or plastic bags. Virtual pets are tidier, cheaper, and don’t scratch, but they aren’t nearly as interesting.
Having considered some of the ways in which virtual activities differ from their originals, why do I think it matters?
I think it matters because we all need practice in basic skills in dealing with the physical world. We never know when we will need them. As adults, we sometimes need to pour a glass of juice without spilling. We sometimes need to stick things together (tape isn’t always the answer!). Knives are useful for all sorts of things. We may need to help a friend paint a room without dripping paint off our brush.
It also matters because any simulation is a simplification of the real world, and we need to learn to deal with complexity. Even if we follow a cake recipe strictly, we need to be prepared to deal with real world factors that don’t show up in the recipe. Some ovens run hot. Different cake pans may lead to more or less browning. The baking powder might be old.
In the case of pets, there is additional difference between virtual and real. Real pet care has consequences for a creature other than oneself.  In Sherry Turkle’s book Reclaiming Conversation, she touches briefly on robot companions and pets, as well as A.I. therapists—on virtual relationships, you might say. Her concern seems mainly that conversation with computers may take the place of conversation with actual people, resulting in less practice in conversation skills (and so less conversation between people). Pets don’t talk, so conversation skills isn’t what I’m concerned about. But there is a relationship between a real pet and a person. Pets have their own needs, their own preferences, and part of taking care of them is respecting that. They are also vulnerable—we put them in situations where they cannot take care of themselves. The guinea pigs can’t get their own water and greens. The dogs can’t go hunting. Taking care of a pet is exercising responsibility and practicing some kinds of relationship skills.**
I started this by asking whether there is any danger of virtual versions of activities taking the place of their real-world originals. People are spending a lot more time with computers, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the real-world activities are being replaced. There also seems to be a trend toward making activities simpler, easier, and with less clean-up—packaging art activities with pre-cut bits and easy instructions,  offering meals that are half-way prepared to save time and effort—but even simplified, those are still real-world activities. I don’t know. I guess time will tell.
Till next post.
**I’m not suggesting every kid needs a pet, any more than every kid needs to practice painting or cooking. Besides that, the idea of giving a kid a pet to teach them responsibility leaves out the fact that parents need to step in as well, lest the pet suffer. Nor is this the reason people have pets—pets are fun! Pets are (sometimes) cuddly!