I see a boy I know/his hair's on fire

UPDATE: OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LAST WORD OF THE THIRD PARA? NOW FIXED.

Or why sometimes it's worth arguing, and sometimes it's not.

Over the last few months, I've been somewhat disappointed by the tone of some of the discussion/blog comments conversations I’ve been reading.

Then, in a freakish coincidence, Audrey wrote a very thought-provoking piece about the nature of blogs and comments, in particular the kind of communities they create. I’ve been prompted to post this piece (which has been in the hopper for some time) after thinking a lot about Audrey’s piece and the responses to it.

One of the things I’ve reflected on is my own response to comments. I often try to tackle issues on DIHT in which my own opinion is a complicated and nuanced* beast – just as likely to sprinkle me with fairy dust as it is to bite me on the bum. Having accepted this, I find I am sometimes equivocal in my thoughts and in the way I express them.

This is not peculiar to my blogging “persona”, I’m like this in real life too. Just ask my colleague who quizzed me the other day about GetUp. I’m not sure that this equivocation is clear to readers though: it might be something that exists only in my mind. Along this line of thought, I have to wonder if equivocation is always the worst of our sins, or if it leaves room for other arguments to play out. Or perhaps equivocation stifles debate, because there’s nothing concrete to respond to?

I enjoy using a forum such as blogging to develop and extend the capacity for rational argument. The same also follows with internet discussion sites, which can occasionally provide readers/post-ers with the opportunity to be presented with an alternative view of the world that they had not yet considered.

But, I think the underlying tone of some of these forums leaves a lot to be desired. It’s not a catch-all argument, by any means, as plenty of discussion sites and blogs are very well moderated and well run. But, as I said in my response to Audrey’s piece, perhaps the negative stays with you longer. She calls anonymous trolling “anonymosity”. It’s an excellent term (although I will admit to having to re-read it several times before getting it).

Mr Fix, for example, is currently participating in a forum where some nameless bloke is suggesting that people might like to fundraise to send him overseas to have sex with a high-profile woman, because "she clearly needs it". This level of charm is just not something I experience in everyday life. However, I know that the tone of that particular forum means that were I to weigh in, I would be accused of similarly needing a good rogering and that there were many willing to give it to me. Either that, or I'm a lesbian who can't take a joke.

I've watched with some dismay the way in which some blogs have been systematically trolled, by people who no doubt possess the capacity to formulate a reasonable thesis, but who choose nonetheless to take a cheap shot or resort to abuse. I sometimes wonder what work meetings would be like if this is how we behaved:

CEO: David has suggested we move forward with our export strategy to China

Senior Manager: Well, David would think that because he loves China and wants to have ten thousand of its babies. Also, he is a doofus.


For the record, I'm perfectly happy to admit that not everyone shares my views. But I’m also not a purely political/public arena blogger, that is to say I blog almost as much about my own petty grievances as I do about macro-level ones. I wonder if this blurs the lines a bit: in reflecting on my own life or that of those around me, I invite a level of personal connection which then spills over into any subsequent analysis I might make of public events, figures or theories.

However, in less comfortable surroundings than these, I often find myself offering not only my take on what is occurring, but also possible reasons for it – as a means of justifying the gulf between our points of view. For example, while I might be inclined to think

"Tony Abbott does X because he is a right-wing dingbat doped up on the smell of his own bicycle seat" (which I think we can agree says as much about me as it does Tony Abbott)

I'm more likely to say

"Tony Abbott advocates X because he is motivated by economic rationalism. However, Abbott's stance fails to address the key issues of Y and Z. While I agree that these are issues which need to be tackled, there is a strong need to ensure that the community owns these decisions into the future, something not fulfilled by the current process".

Which makes me seem like I should be working for DEMOS**.

What I have found about these types of arguments is that I spend a lot of time accepting the opinion of others…and acknowledging the truth of their arguments (if there is a truth to acknowledge). What I get back is this though:

"Well, if you weren't a supporter of numbskull policies like that socialist (insert swears and name of politician) or worse the communist (insert worse swears and other, leftier politician), perhaps you'd be able to see that government meddling is a big fat joke. Full stop."

This, after I've spent five hundred words explaining what I think is the legitimate role of private enterprise in a capitalist democracy***. I suppose on some levels I'm all for a bit of blind vitriol. But when I've spent some time crafting a legitimate alternative argument, and backed it up with evidence or at least considered theory, I wonder if it's really playing fair to resort to calling me a commie d-ckhead.

I mean, I read PJ O'Rourke too, people. And laugh! I own almost his entire catalogue, even if much of what he writes makes me very cross. And yet, I'm being accused of being a lefty crackpot****?

Certainly it’s no more fair than, say, referring to a Federal MP as the mother of demon spawn, or accusing an entire group of people of being unable to care for their children. So perhaps my idea of what is socially acceptable is a bit skewed.

I was talking this over with a friend last week, and her response was this: “Yes, but that’s how you would behave. That doesn’t mean everyone would behave that way.” Frankly this makes me feel like I’m some kind of social puritan, trapped in an Enid Blyton novel, except without the spankings or midnight feasts.

And another thing I’m wondering: are blogging and discussion sites a vehicle for the socially frustrated, who feel their views get no other airing? Is the medium stacked against rational discussion because of the dangers of mis-reading some one’s contention? On the other hand, does a good airing of ones’ views in the interwebs stop us from ranting til 3am at our partners or children (my experience suggests it doesn’t, but then I can be a bit shouty)?

I can't promise this is the last time I'll blog about this.

* did I say nuanced? I meant “confused”.

** All offers gratefully accepted, so long as I get paid in pounds sterling and some one finds a job for Mr Fix.

*** Don't ask.

**** Sometimes I wish I was more of a lefty crackpot, I really do. As long as I don't have to wear a beret.