I know. When your crazy, Republican aunt from Idaho posts on Facebook that Trump is a reasonable choice for President of the United States or your radically liberal friend from high school claims Clinton has never done anything wrong in her life, it can be tempting — irresistible perhaps. I admit, I’ve given in a few times. But please, stop talking about politics on the internet.
Wait a second. Isn’t it your civic duty? Don’t you have an obligation to enlighten your internet pals? Don’t you owe it to these people to share the truth with them. Well, no. I’m fairly certain that the internet is largely responsible for deep divides and massive political polarization in American politics.
But isn’t the discussion of issues what politics is all about? Yes! Of course it is. But on the internet, particularly on the big social media sites such as Twitter and Facebook, there isn’t much of that going on.
Let me ask you a question: How do you feel when you respond to a political post on the internet? If the position is something you disagree with, your answer is most likely angry. If not, then you ought to contact Pope Francis and request sainthood, because I’d wager that angry is most people’s answer.
This is the first problem. Political discussions incite anger. That’s simply their nature. This is always an issue with politics. However, it is one that is amplified by the internet. This is because a screen takes away the human element. You forget you’re talking to another person — not literally of course. Logically, you know that another human is typing those preposterous words that you’re reading, but psychologically, speaking to someone face to face is very different from staring at a collection of pixels. You might say things you wouldn’t in person. The things you say may come off as condescending.
The worst part is, it doesn’t help. I can’t emphasize this enough. No one is going to change their vote from Trump to Clinton because you made a compelling argument in a Facebook comment or vice versa. Would you?
What’s happening online is that it’s much harder to listen. When people skim your comment, they’re looking for flaws in your logic or ideology, and from their perspective, the flaws are always going to be there. This gives them ammunition to continue the argument.
This doesn’t happen as much in conversation. People are more likely to take what you have to say and think about it, simply by virtue of you being there. This may not always be the case, of course, but it’s easier to dehumanize words than it is to dehumanize humans.
And when you share simple memes or tweets, your views get validated without any element of an alternate or intricate perspective. It doesn’t help that on the internet you’re going to be consuming information that aligns with your beliefs, so you’re trapping yourself in an ideological bubble.
Theoretically, the internet is a great place for politics. It’s an endless well of information, but when was the last time you saw someone link to a peer reviewed study on the socioeconomic effects of welfare before making a broad ideological claim without support? It’s probably been a while.
In general, the only thing internet based political discussions do is prove to people that they are right. They get to say, “look at this idiot. They don’t even know what they’re talking about.” And chances are, you’re saying the same thing.
The internet, as most people use it, is for connecting, for entertaining, for clickbait and for six-second videos that make you laugh. Politics don’t fit. A meme isn’t a good argument. Policy is longer than 140 characters. So next time you want to click share or retweet on something politically charged, maybe give it a second thought. When someone posts something you find impossible to understand, maybe shoot them a message and say, “Hey, you have a very interesting perspective. Want to meet up and talk about our differences over coffee?”
Now I know you won’t do that, but wouldn’t that be a beautiful world?
Carver Bain is a freshman Writing Seminars major and Theatre Arts and Studies minor from Spokane, Washington.
