Let’s (Not) Talk About Drax
One of the main reasons I am seeking to disentangle my life from the online/social media world is that I am burned out by its gravitation to extremes and oversimplification of matters. Ironic, I know, given that this obnoxious new writing habit is being delivered and “distributed” solely in a digital medium. Moreover, I recognise that the ability to withdraw from these spaces is facilitated by privilege, of sorts, which is to say that I am in sufficient demographic alignment with established power structures to find community readily out there.
“This is awful! RIP Annie*” was the post accompanying a British tabloid’s Facebook posting of a story about a woman being murdered abroad. People clawing for attention or seeking virality lace their language with hyperbole, overloading with needless amplifying adverbs and adjectives. Small words work. We have lost, I think, the middle ground of our lives.
The result? A need for using more extreme or aggressive language to gain readers’/viewers’/listeners’ attention against a backdrop of virtually endless competing signals. For those seeking to craft a public persona/career from their online presence, it’s an irresistible lure. For the corporate interests dependent on clicks and the platforms reliant on user engagement, it’s the foundation of their business model. As author Siva Vaidhyanathan has been saying for years, “The problem with Facebook is Facebook.”
In losing the middle ground, otherwise rational people have been drawn into the peculiar realm of digital tribalism. They trade their own individual identity and the variation that naturally occurs for clear membership in a social group. Names swapped for hashtags. Bios exchanged for bumper stickers.
Like many people, I have strong political opinions and sometimes express them (please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t get me started on Drax). But I don’t make a habit of using words like “Remainer” or “Brexiteer,” let alone “Remoaner” or “Means Brexiteer.” Why not? Well, because at the most basic level, our brains are constantly engaged in a sorting process. When we’re very young, sorting and classifying things is how we find our way in the world. It’s less fun than being sorted into houses, though, as it’s instead about identifying whether or not something is likely to pose a risk to our welfare. But we grow up. Or, we used to. Now we carry this as almost an exclusive approach to situations.
There is nobody in the world with whom you agree on every single issue or idea. When we sacrifice the middle ground, which is where we develop empathy, compromise, and understanding, we are left only the poles. This is not a new phenomenon, of course. But from my perspective, it has expanded and grown more severe due to the nature of online spaces and communication. It’s a psychological weak point that has been manipulated by extremist groups, governments, and partisan campaigns alike.
The ready disregard people have for others in online spaces and the indignity with which matters like a tragic death are handled would once have been likely to elicit slightly more self-reflection. But there’s no time for that when we’re refreshing the horror machine and worrying about the whether our “content” is enough.
*Not her real name. Her memory and her loved ones deserve better than to be treated like that.
