I hear the term ‘Echo chamber’ tossed around when I mention that I keep my follows and friends in general alignment with my social views and personal ethics. But what exactly is the alternative?
‘I have friends from all walks of life. Devonté thinks Jewish people aren’t people, Maryam thinks Black people aren’t people, and I genuinely enjoy the regular, heated arguments regarding the necessity of microlabels on pictures of my food and children!’
No thanks.
It’s cute that people look at their Twitter feed like it’s a place for polite and formalized debate, but not only is it not, many of the arguments had on it and other social media outlets are less about genuinely asking questions and more about letting out aggression to opposition, no matter what manner of verbiage is actually used.
Combatting bigotry and misinformation is exactly the opposite of relaxing, and the mantle of ‘hero’ hangs heavy, even if you do manage to change minds. So why not ‘keep to your own’; or, more loftily, ‘curate your online experience’?
Wired writer Ethan Zuckerman sees this segmentation as a potential double edged sword.
“Small-room networks can be deeply important spaces for communities to find support and solidarity. When you seek support for living with diabetes or without alcohol (two struggles I’m personally engaged in), you’re not looking for confrontation, but for camaraderie, comfort, and constructive advice.
But small rooms have a big downside: They’re as useful for Nazis as they are for knitters. These conversations, insulated from outside scrutiny, can normalize extreme points of view and lead people deeper into dark topics they expressed a passing interest in.”
Not wrong. So what do we do about people with different, even harmful views? Bash our heads in trying to change one person’s mind, then move on to the next once they do, if they do? Because otherwise, the country just becomes more fractured and the terrorists win?
Come on.
‘Rick And Morty’ said it in a great way: ‘maintenance sucks and large adventures are cool.’ Letting someone you vehemently disagree with on major issues hang around in an effort to change them is an adventure. The adrenaline of the chronically online argument is a great way to up your heart rate. Voting, demonstrating, volunteering, and practicing keeping yourself safe is boring.
It’s okay to be boring. No matter what your particular political bent, your life isn’t a Chicken Soup For The Soul starfish story. Neither is mine.
I’ll be in my bubble.
