Why I stayed out of the Ferguson controversy on Facebook
Why I Stayed Out of
the Ferguson
Controversy on Facebook
(and probably other
ones as well)
“Silence is golden.”
. “It is better to keep silent and be thought a fool then
open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.”
“If you don’t have anything positive to say, don’t say
anything.”
Old adages like these about the benefits of silence take on
even more significance in a world where so much communication has shifted into
the digital modes of mobile conversations, texting, chatting, and especially, social
media. The digital amplification of the communication commons not only gives
everyone a voice to be heard, but it also gives the commons a deafening cacophony.
The importance of silence has long been recognized as an
inseparable component of communication, no matter what the medium communication
is taking place. For example, John Cage’s silent musical composition 4’33” pointedly emphasizes silence as a
corollary of sound far beyond the standard musical “rest.” Analogically, I find
that Zen aesthetics valorizes background negative space (as a form of silence) as
much or more over any foregrounded gesture or figuration (as a form of
speaking).
“Silence” within digital communication can be seen as a form
of protest, even a means to reclaim what has actually been lost. Social media
analyst Caroline Bassett speaks of various means of “communicational
dissidence” where “a return to silence might enable new forms of common space
to be created today so that individual and collective voices might be heard
again beyond the personalized enclosures of the commercial social media
platforms” [1].
The recent incidents of Ferguson, Missouri,
are but the latest in a string of Internet- and media- driven memes (the Internet phenomena of viral videos, image macros, catchphrases, etc.), arising
out of hot-button issues. These type of issues saturate social media, ginning up and
heightening passions while provoking division and discord among social media’s
participants. Like many others, my Facebook news feed and wall exploded with images, commentary, and slogans expressing polarized viewpoints from both
sides of the issue.
And I don’t wish to imply here that I am minimizing what has
happened in Ferguson
or that it isn’t a serious situation that deserves our attention. What concerns
me is the effect that social media has in amplifying these incidents, turning
them into memes that eventually fade out in the shuffle only to be replaced by
the next one.
Networked culture researchers Lee Rainie and Barry Wellman point
out that in the new digital world we “have become increasingly networked as
individuals, rather than embedded in groups” [2]. It goes without saying that
those of us interacting through digital technologies today (which roughly
coincides with at least the 1.2 billion Facebook users) have become immersed
into these digitally-enabled social networks to such an extent that we now define
our identities through them. Indeed, according to Rainie and Wellman,
“networked individuals can fashion their own complex identities” [3]. The
networks we are connected in give meaning and reinforcement to our pursuits,
while the contacts and bonds established through them enable those pursuits to
be fulfilled.
Of course I have my opinions on Ferguson, like everyone else. Rather strong
opinions, I might add, informed by long-time observation and study of political
and cultural events. But commenting on these posts risks alienating people of
opposing viewpoints in the various networks of which I am a part, people whose
connections I value, and where this one particular issue is not germane to the
common interests I share with them. Social networks that coalesce around common
interests, rather than political views, maintain their solidarity – and especially their
harmony – through a voluntary individual suppression of commentary in those
areas of potential conflict.
The lure to jump in and add something of substance to the
conversation is almost overwhelming at times. The old model of the web, known
as Web 1.0 – where static news and information was served up to the reader in
the manner of newspapers and books – has given way to Web 2.0’s interactivity
and hyperactivity, where the glut of information
presented is only a jumping off point for agreement or rebuttal that can
eventually stray far off the initial topic.
Moreover, in a face-to-face conversation of discourse
expected to be civil, people tend to be more reluctant to aggressively promote
their views. They scale back excessive rancor to remain tactful. (Now I realize
that situations alter cases and that of course there are exceptions to this
observation occurring all the time.) But I have noticed that any such
inhibitions often disappear in the virtual world of text-based conversation.
When one is disconnected from a real-time, verbal exchange
built around continuous eye- or voice-contact, it’s as if the “other” person is
somehow less than human. Somehow, that person doesn't seem to be a really "real" person, and thus is not
deserving of the courtesy usually given in a more intimate context. This
appears to be especially true among
people who may have only “met” each other in the virtual world of Facebook,
knowing each other only through a few pictures and a smattering of background
information.
Is abstaining from “joining the conversation” chickening out
because of not wanting to face criticism for a particular viewpoint? Not at
all. If one values conviviality over controversy, exercising such judgment is
simply a matter of choosing a path where one’s voice is not amplified. (And one
can still comment tangentially on issues without directly becoming involved.) Now
some might argue that not joining in for fear of giving offense to someone
else, is empowering the other party over and above your right to your own opinions. Subsequently, it will only encourage even more inroads into suppressing your views.
However, I would respond that the silence of not speaking
out is sometimes more profound than joining in. In the case of social media, it
can range from a rejection of discourse where views are so polarized there
is no chance of resolution, to a flat-out distaste of participating in a
cacophonous din of contention. Refusing to go along with the crowd by getting
worked up and shouting about the latest controversy of the moment, and following
the herd by climbing onto every bandwagon-meme that comes along, is itself
protest – a protest against emotionally-driven
mass sentiment that discourages rational, civil discourse. We must not allow special
interests – who have an underlying agenda to promote their political issues – to unfairly
amplify their voices above everyone else through a crowd-sourced pushing of
demagogic memes to the top of the page.
Postscript:
When issues are transformed into memes, they ride an
emotionally-generated wave that crests and then crashes on the beach to be
replaced by the next meme. Forgot about any thoughtful discussion or consensus on an issue – in the
bright glare of the media spotlight catering to short attention spans and
hollow symbolism, the issue-turned-meme can never regain its cachet as a
serious issue. Nor does it have time to gain any traction in the rapid-fire
information turnover that new media demands.
The argument that cyber-pulpit dialogs or viral memes will eventually “trickle down” into the public commons and garner grass-roots support, is a problematic one if social media is nothing more than a giant amplified echo chamber – where a multitude of voices have more access, but everyone is polarized on the issues with no one listening. The Occupy Movement is a case in point. Promoted through a series of memes motivating people through the bandwagon effect, its grass-roots staying power withered. It soon burned out as it turned inward on itself, and is now nothing more than a catchphrase for parody or ridicule.
Sources:
[1] Bassett, Caroline..
“Silence, Delirium, Lies.” Unlike Us
Reader: Social Media Monopolies and their Alternatives. INC Reader #8. Ed. Geert Lovink &
Miriam Rasch. Amsterdam, NL: Institute of Network
Cultures, 2013, 149.
[2] Rainie, Lee
and Wellman, Barry. Networked: The New
Social Operating System. Cambridge,
MA: The MIT Press, 2012, 6.
[3] Ibid., 15.
POSTSCRIPT +
ReplyDeleteThis is not exactly an “I told you so.” But now after a couple months and the dust has settled, the folly of glomming onto the latest meme and being swept up in emotional knee-jerk reactive politics of the moment becomes apparent. Unfortunately, this is the path to mob action and mob rule, and it has no place in a society based on rule of law - not rule of groupthink.
WaPo's Jonathan Capehart Admits He's Wrong on Ferguson, Gets Called Race Traitor
Posted: 03/20/2015 12:35 pm EDT
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/20/jonathan-capehart-ferguson-traitor_n_6910618.html