Molly Absolon

Writer & Editor
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Hiding behind the anonymity of facelessness

Molly Absolon February 15, 2015

Recently both Cheryl Strayed, the author of “Wild,” and David Brooks, of The New York Times, have written to express their surprise at the meanness and anger they see sprinkled in the comments people post on their websites. They are not against people disagreeing with their opinions or disliking their books and editorials, they are just commenting on how hateful and vitriolic many of the posts can be.

I remember experiencing a similar feeling after the “Outside” magazine article came out about my late husband Pete. Most of the comments were kind and sympathetic, but a few were mean-spirited and condemning. For example, one person wrote that my friends and I should be “ashamed” for our lack of forgiveness. Her comment stood out in its harsh judgment and wounded me deeply. It was not the only one that was hurtful although nice comments definitely outnumbered the mean ones. Still the mean ones had more impact.

The editor of “Outside” agreed that the several of the comments were surprisingly harsh, and he lamented people’s willingness to say things anonymously that they’d never say in person. But, he also acknowledged that the controversy these debates created were good for his business. Magazines like to generate heated discussions because they draw readers to their pages.

Society’s increasing dependence on faceless social media as a form of communication has some troubling repercussions like this. In some ways it is fantastic. I love the way I can be in touch with old friends around the country and even the world through the Internet. I love the immediacy of the connection. And yet, I am appalled when I read some of the debates that go back and forth between people who feel free to use profanity in their comments and who are all too ready to belittle their detractors’ intelligence and character regardless of the relevance of those traits to the topic. The idea of civil discourse seems to be lost, especially when you can hammer out your comments on a blank screen detached from the human faces on the other side.

An article in The New York Times entitled “Epidemic of Facelessness” http://www.nytimes.com/pages/opinion/index.html by Stephen Marche published on Feb. 14 explores the neuroscience behind what’s going on in social media. He explains that it should not surprise us that people can be mean when they write comments in the absence of human interaction because so much of our ability to empathize with others depends on actually looking into someone else’s face. The connection between faces and ethical behavior is proven by neuroscience: Research shows that when we don’t actually look at someone during an interaction, we can more easily dismiss his or her humanity. Without being aware of the science behind this fact, I felt it in my initial throes of grief following Pete’s death. I did not want to see a photograph of the man who threw the rock that killed Pete. I wanted that man to remain faceless so I did not have to consider his feelings. I wanted a monster I could blame for my tragedy. Not a pretty emotion, I know, but it was how I felt at the time.

Marche writes, “A world stripped of faces is a world stripped not merely of ethics, but of the biological and cultural foundations of ethics.” That’s a scary concept to consider. I can see its impact in the nature of discourse going on today. There is an incredible amount of hatred and spite in the way different groups (think liberals and conservatives for example) converse about each other and much of that is possible because we are able to ignore our common humanity.

David Brooks wrote in his column about how psychologically damaging it can be for him to read the mean comments people post in response to his work. He basically said he has to ignore them. Cheryl Strayed essentially said the same thing in her response to mean feedback. She wrote, “I send out a little silent non-God-connected prayer to the jackass who felt the need to share his or her jack-assed-ness with me. And then, without comment, I zap them forever from this page.”

Their reactions are natural. I, too, find it hard to hear feedback when it is buried in anger and meanness.  Criticism is helpful, but if it comes cloaked in profanity and full of spite, you cannot glean any of its benefits. Instead we delete the comments. We dismiss the intelligence of the writer. We call them jackasses. We hunker down and surround ourselves with like-minded individuals who only reinforce our beliefs. The opportunity for growth is, therefore, diminished

Social media is not going anywhere, and I am convinced its benefits outweigh the negatives, but I am learning to use caution. Remember the people who read your comments are humans. Remember your words can cause pain. Remember to consider whether you’d say what you are writing to someone else’s face. Let that be your guide.

Marche concluded his article saying, “The new facelessness hides the humanity of monsters and victims both.” That’s a pretty strong statement, and one to bear in mind as we process the flood of material coming at us online.

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— Susan Detweiler

Blog Archives

Featured
Feb 15, 2015
Hiding behind the anonymity of facelessness
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015
Jan 28, 2015
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Jan 28, 2015
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Jan 16, 2015
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Jan 16, 2015
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Dec 20, 2014
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Learning from Nelson Mandela
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Nov 14, 2014
A time to purge
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Nov 6, 2014
Living for today
Nov 6, 2014
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© Molly Absolon, 2014. 

Molly Absolon

Writer & Editor

Molly Absolon never thought her life deserved a memoir. She and her husband Pete and their daughter Avery lived a happy, relatively uneventful outdoorsy life in Wyoming. Molly wrote to pay the bills. But then a tragic accident shattered that life, leaving Molly to navigate a brave new world as a single mom. Words helped her through her grief and anger. Read more about Molly and the insights she gained through her writing here.

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