Social media brings us face-to-face with our political opposites every day, a function that would ideally facilitate greater understanding but in practice appears to be facilitating the opposite, an effect that is especially clear after tragedies. That isn’t a new or interesting observation, but it’s one with which we are increasingly compelled to grapple.
When emotions run high in the aftermath of tragedy, well-intentioned people who log onto Facebook and Twitter are confronted by the starkest embodiments of ideas they loathe — often packaged in snark and sarcasm and condescension and often based on poor facts — inspiring them to reciprocate with anger and mockery and meanness. What we see on social media confirms our worst assumptions about our political opposites, rather than challenging us to acknowledge their good intentions and engage their arguments.
Too often on these platforms, we see others at their worst and respond in kind.
Social media rewards oversimplification and reduction. It is, of course, easier to argue primally than to argue respectfully (see a good example of how to argue respectfully here), the latter of which is not our natural human instinct in the midst of heated debates. The temptation to share and retweet posts that encapsulate our own primal reactions is strong. Platitudes soar while more substantive thoughts and conversations struggle for air. After tragedies, when emotions are as just about as high as they ever get in political contexts, this is amplified.
To the NRA member who relies on a gun to protect their family, the person shamelessly arguing for gun control is pinning cold-blooded murder on them. To the person who believes gun control is the only option, gun owners shamelessly arguing against such efforts care more about themselves than victims of violence.
In this case, both parties also believe their opponents’ arguments are patently ridiculous. To proponents of gun control, controlling guns is the commonsense solution to mass shootings. To opponents of gun control, it’s common-sense that legislative attempts to control firearms short of a total ban would not prevent mass shootings.
When emotions run high after tragedies, social media’s ability to connect us with our political opponents incentivizes counterproductive conflict rather than substantive engagement. Unfortunately, what we need after tragedies is more people to channel their emotions, even including anger, into productive conversations rather than attacks on the character of people with whom they disagree.
Most everyone we encounter on social media is as heartbroken over any given tragedy as we are. That applies, for instance, both to Hillary Clinton and to employees of the NRA. Though a conservative such as myself might be very tempted to assume that Clinton’s tweet on Monday was more motivated by an interest in scoring cheap points against the NRA than honoring victims, that would probably be unfair. This was a good response.
I hate sanctimonious blather about the importance of dialogue as much as the next person, but what I saw from so many good people on social media after Sunday’s tragedy was disturbing. Among the many lives lost in Las Vegas, there were people who held beliefs that each of us probably loath. There is nothing wrong with attacking such beliefs, but attacks that question or condemn the character of the decent people who hold them does nothing to help move us forward.
Allow me to reiterate that self-righteous posturing on the importance of bipartisanship and dialogue is something I find deeply irritating under most circumstances. But with so much bloodshed on Sunday, it was impossible to observe the vitriol spewed on social media without also noting how the nature of those platforms encouraged us to spew it. We don’t have to let that be the case.
Emily Jashinsky is a commentary writer for the Washington Examiner.
