Response and Responsibility: Writers in Time of Terror
By Porter Anderson (@Porter_Anderson) | June 17, 2016 |
Image – iStockphoto: Natalia_80
‘The Stocks of Gun-Makers Go Up’
In the wake of the massacre at a gay nightclub in Orlando Sunday morning, shares of Smith & Wesson jumped 7 percent in Monday’s trading session. Though the stock stabilized in Tuesday trading, it has nonetheless managed to gain 5.5 percent in the last five days of market activity.
This is Forbes staff writer Maggie McGrath yesterday, June 16. She’s ready with the answer to the question I’ve just placed in your mind: Why would a mass killing make gun manufacturers’ stocks go up, not down?
It’s one of the more jarring market correlations that exists in finance: when a gun tragedy occurs, the stocks of gun-makers go up, because firearm enthusiasts rush to buy up that which they fear will soon be unobtainable as a result of tightened gun laws. Then, when gun control measures fail to materialize, the stocks go back down.
It’s not the purpose of Writer Unboxed to debate gun control. Nor is it our place here to ascribe motivations to armed assailants in highly publicized attacks.
Politics are not the issue here for us today, although they are for many in the United Kingdom, where official campaigning both for “Vote Leave” and “Vote Remain” has been suspended ahead of the upcoming (June 23) referendum on the UK’s membership in the European Union. That nation is trying to get to grips with the nightmare of Labour MP Jo Cox’s shooting death yesterday (June 16) in Birstall, West Yorkshire, by a man witnesses say shouted “Britain first!” or “Put Britain first!” during his assault. The organization Britain First is condemning the murder.
Those who do discuss these events as part of our political life, may understandably be inflamed and focused on them. They might very well like to engage you in the debate. So compelling is the Orlando incident, after all, that Democratic members of the Senate have staged a 15-hour filibuster, ending it when Republicans agreed to hold votes on two gun control amendments. The UK already has tight gun-control laws, which is one reason the Cox shooting is all the more shocking there. It was a year ago today that Dylann S. Roof allegedly shot and killed nine people in a church in Charleston.
Naturally, the public conversation is building. And even as we stand down from it here, we recognize its importance. However our nations work through their respective tragedies and controversies, these events and their impact are in our faces, as they must be.
What is our own “item of interest” here at Writer Unboxed is the question of response—of responsibility—in such critical moments, as writers.
The debate around gun control, whatever may be your opinions on the matter, gains traction with each of these unspeakable events. But so does the dilemma faced by many writers, especially in an era when a chatty public presence is something authors are expected to maintain on social media.
It’s my provocation for you today.
Provocations graphic by Liam Walsh
‘Both Liberating and Anxiety-Provoking’
Journalists may be more acutely aware of the question of opinion in public settings than other writers. During election cycles, for example, newspeople who are working the beat—not as pundits who are hired to promulgate opinions but as reporters—are careful to try to keep their own political positions out of sight.
They do vote, at least the good journalists do: it’s just as much their duty as anyone else’s to do so. But you won’t know their vote, even though objectivity in journalism is a popular myth. The effort is not to be “objective,” which is impossible, but to be fair, by putting each side of an issue into view. Not always easy.
Until relatively recently, though, these were the challenges mostly of journalists; of corporate chiefs and investment figures; of classroom teachers who might draw the anger of parents for one stance or another. The new so-public life of writers has changed that.
Now, for creative workers and certainly for authors in the marketplace, the issue is becoming more, not less, tricky to navigate.
- Some of your readers are talking about these things, frequently, in various social media.
- Some of your readers may hold starkly different views from your own.
- Some of your readers may respond to hearing your views by deciding not to read you, by trash-talking you to other readers, by embarrassing you in open session on one platform or another, by manipulating your comments and falsifying your stances.
What do you do?
Avoiding religious and political issues in public is something many corporations’ administrations rigorously try to do for just this reason: they can run off business if one or another position is ascribed to them. Maybe in an ideal context, writers would do the same, right?—gliding serenely past the fray of the day, giving no reader a reason to shut a book, upsetting no follower with a “shocking” position on political realities.
And yet.
Writers are our most eloquent speakers, at least writers of talent and skill are. If anyone can find the grace to say what needs saying when the depravity of human evil is revealed to us and our weaponry is turned on innocent people, shouldn’t it be good writers?
Potentially, these things can go far beyond what one “shares” on various social media, too. Where do you place the courage of your convictions in your work, itself?
Tonight in Cincinnati, a new opera gets its world premiere. Based on Thomas Mallon’s historical novel Fellow Travelers, composer Gregory Spears’ opera of the same name looks at the persecution of homosexuals in the 1950s Washington of Joseph McCarthy and Roy Cohn, when a sub-genre of the Communist Party “Red Menace” was the “Lavender Scare.” Gays were driven from their jobs, careers and lives wrecked. Greg Pierce is the show’s librettist.
The resonance of this new work’s debut less than a week after the targeting of a gay nightclub in Orlando is inescapable. Commentary will include such lines as, “Where do these opera people get off messing around in modern-era politics?” Isn’t it right that the creative team that Spears and Pierce lead should produce this evocation of these issues?
And yet.
Here’s how a novelist friend has just put it to me in a direct message:
I got into uncomfortable political territory recently on Facebook. Someone came out and said she applauded me for saying my peace even though I was a ‘salesperson’ and could lose book sales over it. I think a lot of us feel muzzled, and breaking free of that to say what you what you believe, and what you feel needs to be said, can be both liberating and anxiety-provoking.
That gets it, doesn’t it?
When do you stay silent? When do you join the debate? And how do you feel about doing either?
[coffee title=”Wish you could buy Porter a glass of Campari?” icon=”glass”]Now, thanks to tinyCoffee and PayPal, you can![/coffee]
@Porter_Anderson is a fellow of the National Critics Institute. He is Editor-in-Chief of Publishing Perspectives, the international news medium of Frankfurt Book Fair. He co-founded The Hot Sheet, a newsletter for trade and independent authors, which now is owned and operated by Jane Friedman. Priors: The Bookseller‘s The FutureBook in London, CNN, CNN.com and CNN International–as well as the Village Voice, Dallas Times Herald, and the United Nations’ WFP in Rome. is a recipient of London Book Fair’s International Excellence Award for Trade Press Journalist of the Year. PorterAndersonMedia.com
Porter, you raise such important questions!! I’m not as yet published and therefore don’t have to walk a tightrope with a readership. I’m building connections through a newsletter, though, and while writing a piece that touched on religion and belief, I found myself asking similar questions. Who am I alienating if I say this…or that? I re-shaped the piece in an attempt to look at the issues in a wider perspective. And I have to say, it challenged the ____ out of me because I wanted to stand on a milk crate and shout my views. It is my newsletter, after all. But if I piss too many people off, that can shut down the conversation. Enter snark and vitriol and division, which we surely don’t need more of. What we do need is to raise the level of discourse. We can write stories that elevate hearts and change minds, and keep reading and talking about the ones that have already been written. If we can speak into the madness in a voice that pierces the shouting, then I think we will have earned our bread and then some. Thank you for this.
Thanks, Susan,
Sounds as if you’re wrestling with this in a very good way, which I appreciate.
In fact, I was worried at first when you said you don’t have to walk a tightrope with a readership — your work on the newsletter reassures me that you know you DO have to walk that tightrope (at least in my opinion of how aware all writers need to be of these issues). You can damage your relationship with potential readers right now, and that, of course, is the last thing you want to do.
It’s a very tough situation. You need to feel authentic to your own views and beliefs but express them and respond to others’ without emotion or irritation. That’s often really hard, although I find it gets easier over time.
All the best with it, and thanks again. Couldn’t agree more that we need to raise the level of discourse, and that’s going to require us to shut down people who come at us with anger, there’s really no way than to declare zero tolerance for bullying and trolling online. Here’s a post, in case you haven’t seen it, on that topic.
Cheers,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Thanks for the link, Porter. It’s the Wild West out there alright. I’m grateful for the safe space that WU provides, and for the kinds of conversations we have here.
Porter, thank you for writing this. The question you pose is an important one, and each writer can only answer it for him or herself.
As a still unpublished writer of fiction (in book form), I know I discuss politics at my peril. When I began writing fiction, for the most part, I stayed away. But my professional background is political, and I found myself too interested and slowly crept back to it, picking and choosing topics carefully with my writing career in mind.
We are at a different place now, though, and when I say that I mean our country. The presidential election, the gun safety debate and a few other issues hold within them enormous stakes–even life and death. I live in this country and care about its foundations and its future. I understand the issues. I know how to use words. How can I ignore this? I feel it’s my duty to speak out, to write when and wherever I can. In short, I believe it’s my responsibility. I hope it doesn’t damage my fiction career. But I can’t do nothing when so much is at stake and there’s a chance I can do something.
Hi, Tracy,
Thanks for this excellent comment. I think you make a really good case for an author considering speaking out when his or her voice is needed and may be able to contribute to the debate.
What’s more, I think anyone, at least in the Writer Unboxed community, can recognize the courage this requires of you or another writer who might feel it’s worth risking backlash in order to engage in the debate.
The potentially bright spot in this is that if more people can approach the issues in the thoughtful way you can—aware that there could be repercussions—then they might go into the discussion with more restraint and tolerance for dissenting views. As I see Jim Bell noting in the next comment, one of the worst parts of all this is the searing, seething anger with which so many people today seem to conduct their public lives (and not just online, as we see in these inexcusable shooting events and even in the election campaigns). This massive hostility is poisoning so much effort to exchange ideas and debate things respectfully. Only when we get some of this anger under control will we really start to move things forward in a productive way.
So more power to you, a voice of reason where there isn’t always much is priceless right now.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
The big problem as I see it, Porter, is that our zeitgeist is not set up for “debate” or even “conversation.” It’s set up to trash talk and take no prisoners. There is no listening anymore, no reflective pauses. There is little rationality because it’s difficult to think clearly (and how much evidence can you adduce in 140 characters?) It’s much easier to type exactly what’s on your mind at the moment and think it has value simply because you’re emotional about it – which more often leads to torrents of “hating on” rather than understanding (see, e.g., what happened with Ayesha Curry last night on Twitter).
A story well told is more persuasive than chatter. I’m glad Harriet Beecher Stowe and Harper Lee were not Twitter junkies.
I completely agree with you, James. Calm, rational public discourse is nearly impossible to do online simply because we do not “see” the other person, i.e. we’re not standing right in front of them. We can’t see their body language, hear the tone of their voice, etc. And that makes a huge difference. We can spout off what we want to (and many do) behind the safety of the keyboard, forgetting that the person we’re responding to is an actual human.
I try very hard not to get into the political fray on social media. I’ve seen several other writers, published and not-yet-published, not care one bit, and to be honest, yes, it does color my view of them, especially if we disagree 100% on a topic. If I see their responses to others as dismissive and disrespectful, I am much less inclined to follow them, let alone buy their books.
Hi, Melissa,
Thank you for your comment.
While I agree with Jim, too, I don’t think that the public discourse is that much better when people are face to face than when they’re online. Certain events at certain primary campaign events—in which some participants were physically attacked, you’ll remember—don’t need keyboards to hide behind. I’m sorry to say that the whole culture’s ideas of what’s appropriate in how we interact seems to have made an ugly shift toward rudeness and intimidation. If anything, it looks to me as if day to day life is imitating online life.
I agree with you, though, on how off-putting this kind of interaction is. I’m not sure it shouldn’t color how we feel about someone when we see such behavior. If someone is willing to bully and slag others in the public space, I personally have no interest in them. I like spending my time in better quality exchanges.
Thanks again and all the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Say on, MacBell,
Couldn’t agree more with you that the level of public discourse has gone to hell in an incredibly cheap handbag. I’m going to differ with our friend Melissa, too, who follows you with her perception that the hostility online is there because exchanges aren’t face-to-face: I see the same disregard for civil exchange in person all the time. I fear that a lot of people today don’t forget that there’s a person on the other end—they simply don’t care. For some reason the rationale behind decent discussion (learning something you didn’t know, putting your points across in a way that respects others’ feelings, giving and getting a chance to fully make your case) is of no interest to so many people, no interest whatever.
This has led me lately to coin the phrase “anger tokens.” If you look at a comment chain on Passive Voice or in the KBoards or elsewhere, you’ll see people not really making coherent arguments about anything but instead lashing out at each other with escalating levels of tension. They’re exchanging tokens of their anger, much more than points in a debate. “I’ll see your anger token and raise you two by yelling that you’re an idiot.” That’s pretty much the dynamic at work.
This, of course, addresses no issues and provides no progress whatever in our thinking or capability in any area except anger-expression.
What’s behind all this fury is hard to gauge. As in the case of the Orlando shooter, specialists might say it’s a kind of suite of irritants, several features of self-isolating cruelty that converge in an unholy syndrome of violent rage, then made actionable by the availability of tools, in that case a military-grade assault weapon, the AR-15. (In case you’re interested, this look at the AR-15 and its attraction for mass shooters is useful. As CNN has it, until the 1980s, assault weapons weren’t manufactured for the civilian population, only for the battlefield.)
I don’t disagree with you about the superiority of a well-told story. But I do worry that when the whole population is screaming at each other, getting them to stop and read that well-told story is pretty difficult. Which is why, I fear, those of us who write need to weigh the idea of getting into the fray. Everyone’s decision is right, of course. It’s the stopping to think that counts.
Thanks again, Jim,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Whether you give voice to your beliefs or not, I think there is a line that you can draw mentally in the sand between your beliefs and things that are completely outside of your territory — things you would never do, never feel, could never even imagine. Are the people who live on the other side of that clamoring to purchase your fiction anyway? Honestly, that issue is the least of my concerns.
I write because I want to make people think about something differently. Doing that through fiction is vastly more comfortable for me than writing about world matters on Facebook, Twitter, a blog, or anywhere. But, for me, there does come a time when it’s more uncomfortable not to say something than to speak up. And I would argue that the issue becomes ever more complex when you have built a sizable platform. Is there, at some point, an almost moral obligation to say something? What is the going rate for an e-book — $4.99? $6.99? $11.99? Is that equal to the price of opening a person’s mind to another perspective?
Nodding with you on this, Therese,
I’m swayed, personally, by the moral issue, too (case by case, of course), and I think your point about the complexity of the decision(s) involved growing with the size of a public platform is really perceptive.
The difficulty of working through fiction, I think is increasing, and it has to do with timing. The more hyper-reactive the world becomes, and the more quickly it therefore acts on an issue and resolves or changes it, the harder I think it is for long-form work to “keep up,” for lack of a better term. Granted, novelists can work at great remove from the day to day movements of an issue, but there was a time when society’s quandaries moved so much more slowly than they do now. In some instances, that can mean getting out with a book that’s behind the curve on something.
All of which probably increases the pressure of a writer to react in real time via social and other channels and that, of course, puts that writer on the line, as we’re saying, in ways that may or may not be comfortable—but as you’re saying, putting it on that line may be more comfortable than repressing moral outrage that needs the kind of voice a good writer can give it.
I’ve just put out a story at Publishing Perspectives on Margaret Atwood being named to the Harold Pinter Award by English PEN – a prize that of course is all about political and cultural activism (as matches the thrust of PEN’s and the late Pinter’s work). Atwood is continually engaged with various causes and efforts in the political context, no reticence that I know of, and I think most of us really admire her resilience and commitment. I couldn’t be happier with the jury’s choice for the Pinter.
On reflection, though, the award points up exactly what we’re talking about. This is a major decision and Atwood has embraced it to such a degree that it’s an essential part of her work and life.
We all have a lot of thinking to do, and we can only be better for it, in my opinion.
Thanks again!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Yes, Porter, as a fan of Atwood’s since the beginning of the Glacial Age, I should have mentioned her in my comment as well. She’s an even better example of the commitment that becomes the hallmark of literary (and personal) excellence.
Hi, Tom,
Agree with you about Atwood, but we do need to remember that she’s at a point in her career in which it’s far, far easier for her to take even a quite radical political position and stick her landing. For most writers, even many with fairly big names, this can still be quite tricky. The PEN jury is correct in identifying her as someone who has made a kind of hallmark of this. Most writers either won’t have the choice nor the protective notoriety to pull it off as gracefully or as safely as Atwood does.
This is meant to take nothing whatever from Atwood, for whom I have profound respect and appreciation.
I’m just saying that she’s in a rare and small class of high-visibility writers who has (fully to her credit) forged a career of courageous ethical and political leadership, and not many of our writers can find such a bright and powerful sword waiting as hers when they feel they must ride into battle.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I’m not certain that the mass killings are what Causes the increase in gun sales, and thus stock prices. The same affect happens every time President Obama makes a speech on gun control There is a correlation, but the cause is likely more the fear of losing rights than losing life.
As a writer, and more important to me, is my inability to have a character espouse an unpopular cause or belief, without getting critiques and reviews tearing me a new orifice for my terrible views. My views? And this is from allegedly sophisticated readers. What will happen when I break through and publish?
Hi, Terry,
Just to be clear, the business perspective on stock-market reactions to shootings is not mine but Maggie McGrath’s at Forbes. I do think the cause-and-effect trend she cites is real and understood by many in the financial markets, she’s not the first to remark on this. But I don’t think she’d disagree with you that an anti-gun statement from the White House or other political action in the gun-rights space can cause a similar response.
I do think you’re looking at a very serious phenomenon with modern readers. The review-capability they now wield via online retail, Goodreads, and other rating devices have changed the character of the reader-author relationship severely.
On a good day, we all smile and say that direct contact and interaction with readers is a wonderful thing and a great gift from the digital dynamic. The reality, of course, is that many authors won’t go near Goodreads because it houses a subset of its huge membership (some 50 million, about the size of the South Korean population) who feel empowered to critique with great force and at times ruthless antagonism for work they don’t like.
Authors, for all they need reader connection, are unused to taking harsh criticism full in the face and are understandably staggered by it at times. The readership AND authors are part of that zeitgeist that James Scott Bell is talking about in his comment above. Both authors and readers have been known in recent years to “act badly” with the new capabilities of public censure.
I hope that you’ll find the confidence in yourself to write the characters you feel you need to write. Warping your work into “something else” is rarely satisfying and, in the long run, probably less salable than the authenticity of what you really want to say.
But no one here will underestimate the stamina this takes or the courage you may need to find to go forward. Give yourself time. The biggest mistake most authors are making these days is in thinking that they have to be out there with something right away. Not so. Your own personality and the contours of your life will reach the right point for each release of work you need to make. That’s where to put your trust.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I’m not published so I can’t say I’ve been in that position. Writer or no writer, I’m not going to change who I am for the sake of audience. By the same token, entering into these debates is a no-win situation because most people join in for the purpose of arguing, there is very little reasoned discourse, and even if you tried to come to a solution, no one could agree on what the underlying problems are.
I notice on FB in general, this election year has driven a lot of traffic off–people just don’t want to hear it, one way or the other.
I can only imagine how it would decimate readership on an author website, for example, if those sites became hotbeds for national issues.
As someone said above, every author must decide for themselves, but for me I’ll want a low-key approach, because people are going to flip out no matter which way you go.
Hi, BK, and thanks for your comment.
You’re touching on an important issue that goes along with the “anger token exchange,” as I tend to call these crass, raging “debates” online, and that is that no one changes his or her mind. You don’t persuade people to think another way and no one convinces you to change your thinking, either.
One of the things I’ve learned to respect most, in fact, is the ability held by a very few people to argue their convictions without trying to win over anyone. If you can make a good accounting of how you feel without trying to convert everyone else to your beliefs, then you’re genuinely discussing and you’re accepting the reality that we rarely are argued out of one opinion or another.
This is something lost these days in public discourse. In part because our sports and business cultures teaches us that everything in life is a competition, most people today seem to think that a discussion, debate, or even a conversation is something that must be won. But nothing need be won or lost. Just putting across your points in an even-tempered way can be so much more effective than trouncing someone else at something.
As you say, people—at least some of them—are going to flip out no matter which way you go. These are the alarmists who feed on the energy of contention and clashes, they need to pummel someone to feel okay about themselves.
Avoid them and create that low-key approach in your life. Nothing says we have to put up with the noise and conflict of so much rhetoric these days.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter–
Maybe it’s time we gave more emphasis to what we think rather than how we feel. To be persuasive, thinking depends on plausible argument, whereas feeling relies mostly on rhetorical manipulation. Things are different in fiction, but I think you know what I mean.
You could not be more right, Barry.
Nor more utterly outnumbered.
We live in an age that prizes “passion” above all else, which generally means over-the-top emotionalism about anything of any import whatever (and a lot of things with no importance at all). People compliment each other on their passion. As if caring about some issue was a point of pride. The entire industry built around “passion” is nonsense and it props up the most counter-productive elements of emotionalism, always ready to pounce on logic and smother it in tears and gushing laughter, nostalgia and blubbering sentiment.
One of the reasons Jane Friedman and I created The Hot Sheet, for example, is that most authors don’t seem to be able to handle the issues of the industry without either experiencing or running into so much emotionalism that we have dubbed our effort “No Drama. No Hype.”
Intelligence and its application of rational thought over emotional claptrap lost the battle a long time ago in our culture. Which is one of the reasons I had to work on this piece to pull out as many “charged phrases” as possible, so that readers might be able to handle it without falling into vats of feelings about it.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
So true, Barry and Porter! I remember being struck by this watching a television adaptation of Moby Dick many years ago when a character (Starbuck, I think) laments that the crew is more easily swayed by Ahab’s appeal to their emotions than by his own rational aguments. Since then, I have recognised this truth in almost all public discourse. I’m not sure it is any worse today than in previous centuries (see witch-burning, crusades, the Red/Lavender scares Porter mentioned, and any number of other examples).
But I do agree that the need to “win” every discussion is worse.
You make some excellent points. Of course, we as writers are conscious of who we make “offend” with our positions or opinion pieces. Isn’t that what everyone, even non-writers afraid of these days? It seems everyone is “offended” on some level over something. To me and many, it feels as if our whole country has been muzzled. Speak your mind and you’re labeled. I believe we are at a crossroads in this country, and it is, perhaps, time has come to speak up. I do not advocate using FB or Twitter. Use the freelance opportunities or your own blog. One word of caution – vet the online magazines. Many lean far left or far right. A balanced venue is a better choice. Also, once you decide to speak out, do your research and from reputable resources.
Thank you for sharing this important topic.
Hi, Sheila,
Thanks very much for reading me and for your comment.
I think there is fear, yes, for many people, in speaking their minds because they don’t want to be labeled in one way or another. I’d say there are two other elements of this line of thinking to consider, however:
(1) There are also people whose sense of entitlement has been weirdly mushroomed by the existence of the Internet, and they seem to believe that the world needs to hear them speak their minds on every single thing. This takes us all the way back to a very prescient 2011 piece I’ve mentioned before at WU, the “Why Wasn’t I Consulted?” syndrome identified by Paul Ford. Here is what Ford wrote:
“‘Why wasn’t I consulted,’ which I abbreviate as WWIC, is the fundamental question of the web. It is the rule from which other rules are derived. Humans have a fundamental need to be consulted, engaged, to exercise their knowledge (and thus power), and no other medium that came before has been able to tap into that as effectively.”
In the service of that question — Why Wasn’t I Consulted? — we see vast numbers of people who are anything but afraid to speak out. They have the other problem. They can’t shut up. They’re endlessly triggered by everything they see and hear to generate and promulgate an opinion, frequently without any care for the “research and reputable resources” you’re smart enough to advocate.
There seems to be a whole class of these people, a great swath of society, who think their opinions are critically important and of great fascination to the rest of us. And they are wrong.
So while I know that some people feel muzzled as you say you do, and I take no pleasure in that, I actually believe we have a bigger problem in the people who do NOT feel muzzled but think they’re supposed to be heard on every issue out there.
(2) While feeling reticent to speak your mind without careful thought about potential repercussions might be very unpleasant, we are actually fortunate to live in a place and time in which you have the choice. Not only do you have the digital means to express your opinion, you also have the legal right to do so. Many Orwellian structures have existed and some still exist, barring self-expression and enforcing a wretched oppression that we don’t have to worry about.
At least, then, our problem is to counsel ourselves on what’s prudent and right and to find our own ways forward as our consciences and good judgment allow.
It’s in our hands. “Response and reponsibility,” as I headlined this piece, are ours to determine, not someone else’s.
And in this regard, as I sense you understand in your kind comment, we are very, very lucky.
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
A recent experience of mine illustrates the truth of James Scott Bell’s words: our times don’t lend themselves “to ‘debate’ or even ‘conversation.'”
Earlier this month, I went fishing in northern Minnesota with a group of men from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I do this every spring, and know and like everyone who goes. But I’m the only non-gun owner on the trip, the only liberal–and last year, there were some tense moments.
I remembered them, and resolved not to talk politics unless repeatedly provoked. It soon became obvious that my fishing buddies had collectively come to the same decision: with one or two one-liner exceptions, politics never figured during the week.
I think the fancy term for what’s going on is “systemic closure.” Consciousness is a system that is closed, because admitting error equals capitulation, and “compromise” must be added to the list of dirty words.
But writers like to think of themselves as different, as operating with a greater level of awareness than other people. If this is so–and I’m by no means sure it is–then those writers who systematically edit or never compose what might risk some sales will have to live with that choice. I’m not talking about ephemeral social media. I mean stories and novels.
This is serious business in our country. If you don’t think so, get the DVD for “Trumbo” and take a look.
Thanks for this, Barry.
Loosely, we’re talking about something I seem to have mentioned every day of my life for the past couple of decades, and that’s the victory of entertainment over art.
By that, I mean that our culture’s interests and attention are transfixed by what is “entertaining.” Stronger stuff, genuinely impactful art, has the devil of a time succeeding. Even in the world of commercial television, the majority of viewers aren’t watching the highly acclaimed and marketable major series from HBO, Amazon Studios, Netflix, etc. They’re watching romantic situation comedies (often decades old, in syndication) and profoundly stupid contest shows. They reject, in other words, even the best quality entertainment, instead opting for the kind of mindless drivel that should intrigue no one.
If your friends’ avoidance of political topics isn’t part of that syndome (and I think it is), we still have to remember that the “Don’t talk about religion or politics” dictum is far older than our era today. Frequently this was said in regards to family members who had learned that they simply weren’t going to be able to discuss politics at the table without disrupting good Southern decorum.
All of which means to me that when you say it’s “serious business in this country,” I can say that’s why I wrote this piece. Evasion of truth — among camping friends, dinnertable family members, or the political movements of the day that can result in Black Lists — is a long-running force in our culture. We need to think about it.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Right again, Porter. I’m sure you’ve read Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business (1985). It speaks directly to the issue you speak of, the “show-business model” taken up by everyone. I especially appreciate your resistance to passion taking the place of what for lack of a better term can still be called common sense (that is, uncommon sense). Thanks, and thanks again.
And thank you, Barry. I do know the late Neil Postman’s great book — originally published in 1985, believe it or not. I can heartily join you in recommending “Amusing Ourselves to Death” to all our colleagues, a sadly prescient book. https://amzn.to/28Mb2pM I’m looking for the time to read it again, actually, now that you’ve flagged it again for us.
Thanks!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
This topic really resonates with me, particularly in light of the recent political climate. Thanks for bringing it up.
For me, it all comes back to the question of why I write in the first place. To sell books, surely, but if that were the only reason I would have quit long ago to pursue something more lucrative. Making donuts at the corner the coffee shop, perhaps. The real reason I write is to connect, to have a voice about the human condition, to say ‘look and see what I see’.
When I first started on social media, I tried to keep everything positive.” Look,” I said. “I’m a really nice lady. I like puppies and babies just like the rest of you.” Not that this isn’t true, but it does present a skewed picture. I’m also someone who care very deeply about issues, I am also a person who has opinions.
It takes a certain amount of courage to express those opinions. Because you’re right, there is a level of anxiety. I don’t really want to offend anyone and if I write with passion about my beliefs, there are some who might be offended. And then they won’t like me and they won’t buy my books.
In the end, though, it’s more important to be true to myself and my beliefs. Why bother putting words to page if I can’t be honest about who I am?
Hi, Ute,
Many thanks for your thoughts here.
I sense in what you’re saying a kind of confusion we all experience. And that goes for non-writers, too. People in all walks of life wrestle with how much to expose their reactions and stances on things.
It’s no secret that political correctness has become a terrific problem for many in our society creating challenges where there shouldn’t be any to simple, plain speech and earnest exchange.
Curiously, this is one aspect of our zeal for diversity. The more diverse our societies become, the more difficult it can seem to navigate them effectively without curtailing various moments of self-expression in ways that, technically, we “shouldn’t” have to.
The answers to all this aren’t easily in reach, either. Someone in our comments here has mentioned how easily offended people are at times. I think we’ve all run into people who seem to think that nothing in their world is supposed to run counter to their own perspectives, a very curious and rather recently developed sense of entitlement tied to the rise of the Internet.
In its extreme cases, this no-offense energy is what creates “safe rooms” on campuses so that students who feel “offended” or tense about the campus visit of a politician or a other speaker can “take shelter.” This is a perfect example of how out of hand the idea has become of “protecting” people from thoughts and ideas they don’t think they’ll like.
As you say, the task is to find the spot in all this representative of your own honesty.
And thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter, what a great article. I agree with Jim that the age of discussion is gone. I can attest to this in my own family. My teenage children, since given phones, seem to have lost the ability to debate and discuss ideas. There’s name-calling, and offense taken where none is intended. We are trying to break them of this habit :) Dinnertime conversation is often quite lively with four opinionated people in the house.
I write to make a difference so I put my energy into the books I’m writing. I also write a blog and increasingly there’s more religion and politics than I would ever have imagined. But these are precisely the things that one shouldn’t stay silent about. In the face of evil being called good, one has to say it as it is. In the face of lawlessness, we have to stand up for what we believe.
Pax.
Hi, Vijaya,
As always, you have the issue well in-hand at your house. :) I believe you have all issues well-in hand at your house, actually. Based on your many good comments to me over time, I may need to come move in with you guys soon.
I’d just give you a nod in saying that as long as you’re able to wrest those devices from the kids for lively dinnertime conversations, then discussion is not gone.
If anything the give and take we see here daily at WU tends to give the lie to such dire pronouncements as “the age of discussion is gone.” I know exactly what Jim means, of course, but what we do here and what many do every day on many sites all over the Net is discussion—and it still happens in live physical settings, on phones, on Skype, in classrooms and on subways and in boardrooms and everywhere.
What I think we’re referring to when we talk about the “age of discussion,” if there was one, being gone is that the Internet has shown us a lot more anger than we realized was abroad in the land. And in earlier eras when there were no electronic media to keep everyone glued to entertainment events, people sat on porches in the evening and held discussions because there was little else to do.
I couldn’t agree more, as I told Jim, that the character of public discourse has changed, and badly. This has to do with that anger factor and with the notion of “winning”—people today seem to see discussions as competitions and they may not feel they’ve had a successful exchange if they’re not able to change a mind, force their opinion on someone else, “win” the conversation.
This is too bad, too tiring, too tedious, and yes, it damages our ability to think and learn and grow as a population on the widest scale and in interpersonal relations on the smallest scale.
But discussion isn’t over.
We just had one. :)
Thanks, Vijaya,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Thanks Porter and you can come by for a visit anytime :) And you’re right, of course, that there are some good places on the interwebs to have meaningful discussions. I really appreciate the atmosphere created by Therese here and Verla Kay’s (now the SCBWI) Blueboards. Thank you for taking the time.
I try very hard not to get political on my public social media accounts for reasons already cited: our culture doesn’t know how to “converse” anymore; social media is a terrible place for debate because the other doesn’t see you as a person, they can’t see body language, etc; my work will be torn down because of my beliefs.
But it’s horrible. I feel muzzled and, sometimes, trapped. I try very hard to not let that carry over into my writing. When I write, it’s from an honest place.
Hi, Suzanna,
Thanks for your comment and for reading us here at WU.
I know what you mean, of course, but as I was just saying to Vijaya above you in comments, discussion is really not over. We’re all having an incredibly good, informed, respectful, sensible, and worthwhile discussion right here in these comments, and they, too, are part of the many social media we have available today.
In the quick exchanges of Twitter, much can be lost, of course, and I find that—my opinion only, mind you—Facebook is a bit of a trailer park because it doesn’t limit comments like Twitter does: people go on and on with their sentimental carryings-on, and it’s all a bit of a weepy mess for my taste.
But as I find myself mentioning in several of these comments, what I think you’re reacting to is the still surprising amount of anger—often carelessly expressed—in online settings. The Net has shown us a valuable but ugly thing: a great many people are furious about one thing or another, a lot of them seemingly feeling that life is not handing them the things it should. While a lot of etiquette training is a thing of the past, the free-and-quick nature of the various media online are a perfect place for angry people who have no regard for civil exchange to crash around with ridiculously hostile and rude energy. These are people you simply block and never engage with. They’re not worth your attention.
Rather than feeling muzzled (I do sympathize), try “heaping hot coals upon their heads,” the scriptures have it, lol, by summoning up the most cordial, thoughtful, gracious tones you can muster and telling a vulgarian online that you’re now going to block him or her because you’re not interested in her or his anger and that he or she has demonstrated to you that a civil exchange on the matter (whatever it may be) is impossible because of her or his anger. Send that so that the person is aware of what’s happening. And then block that person permanently.
You’ll feel much better because you’ve made a strike for something more decent in our exchanges and you’ve protected yourself, rightly, from that bully’s behavior.
Being careful about political engagement in social media might always be the right course, but that doesn’t mean you need to accept bad treatment from anyone. Shut them down. Just as we frequently wish we could do IRL, in real life. :)
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
This election cycle has shown there to be a great divide in this country. I’m not sure we can change anyone’s mind about anything, but I feel it would be a mistake to put book sales before standing up for what you think is right. Making a profit has often left behind fairness and respect and goodness.
Hi, Carmel,
Nothing here says that you should put book sales before standing up for what you think is right.
The issue of speaking publicly on volatile issues of the day is much more nuanced than that, and this post does not tell you what to do. It raises the dilemma as one deserving of consideration. I suggest that you may have given it short shrift if this quick and simplistic distillation is what you derive from it.
And just for the record, I have been working in journalism, often political journalism, through many national election cycles. I can’t think of a one in which we didn’t say that the process had “shown there to be a great divide in this country.”
Every American election year positions two major parties in opposition to each other and the parties and their candidates tend to believe that they must court the more extreme ends of their bases to win. The phrase “campaign to the left (or right) and run in the center” is a reference to just that. A candidate must round up the deeper-field believers and get their buy-in on platform issues, then that same candidate must try to appear more moderate, more centrist, in order to get enough independent-voter and crossover-voter support to win.
So while I know that at this point, it seems that we see that “great divide” opening up under our feet, the campaign process must paint it that way. It is, at least part, an illusion created by the dynamic of the two-party system. Candidates must intensify their rivalries to describe their distinctive positions and woo the voters who want to see those positions represented.
I’d keep an eye on that “great divide” if I were you. It will look different in time, and there are, in fact, far more than one divide. There are many. This is party of our nation’s diversity.
And when people “run to the center” as politicians always do, they frequently meet each other…and are shocked at how well they get along.
Thanks,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I’m afraid you misunderstood me, Porter. I didn’t mean to imply that your post was asking anyone to do anything. I was just stating a personal feeling I have about putting people before profits.
The great divide I see is on more of a personal level too. Friends and family have strong opinions on both sides this time around. Before, few people even seemed to care.
Also, I tend to write succinctly. If I hadn’t thought this was an important post, I wouldn’t have commented.
The age of discussion is never gone.
As a respectful Canadian neighbor, please let me offer one piece of advice.
Please listen to Sam Harris, one of the most eloquent Americans I’ve ever heard. You’re incredibly fortunate to have him. His latest podcast is a must hear. As always he’s a sane voice of reason heard above the constant din of world chaos.
Hi, Veronica.
While I appreciate your note here, I think that in general I’d much prefer to hear something of your own intelligence than a mere “listen to so-and-so” message.
Sam Harris is of course a known commentator and motivational speaker and writer in philosophy and neuroscience. Many admire his material on current affairs, and that’s fine.
“Respectful Canadian” that you are — and this is appreciated — I think we’d like to hear you speak your own mind. And if Sam Harris came by, the same: I’d rather him give us the benefit of his own viewpoint than say, “I just agree with Veronica, listen to her.”
You give us one tantalizing hint of your own mind: “The age of discussion is never gone.” And then you’re gone, covering yourself up in praise for Harris.
I hope you feel welcome here to speak for yourself. Sam certainly would. :)
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
It’s an interesting and engaging provocation, Porter. I think Barry and others are right, that some of us close ourselves off, and that compromise has become a dirty word. Another dirty word: moderate. Today, the clamoring only gets louder as one moves to the two extremes of the political spectrum. And loud and opinionated plays better on the interwebs than quietly considering various perspectives. Moderation usually stems from thoughtful examination and often leads to complex and nuanced beliefs. The resulting action usually demonstrates a willingness to compromise.
These days it seems like that sort of quiet deliberation and evaluation can lead to being labeled as lacking courage, or worse, being heartless. On the other hand, in a work of fiction, having complex characters with a nuanced, and even a changeable, system of beliefs is often desirable.
At the risk of being judged for being mostly quiet and considerate online, I’ll stick to sharing my feelings with the greater public via my fiction. Thanks for instigating a worthy consideration, Porter!
I found myself nodding a lot at this comment, Vaughn. Certainly I have chosen to remain quieter online this year, as I watch people I know personally and well respond to each other with volatility. (That’s not even counting the folks who are only online acquaintances…)
Moderation and compromise. Yes.
I take very seriously the call to speak, to use the words I have in productive ways. So I guess I’m still sorting out just what I want to say, how I want to say and in what form! Thank you for the provocation, Porter, and thank you everyone for the quality of today’s discussion. It’s so helpful and timely.
Vaughn,
I respect your, shall we call it, restraint? regarding online stuff. Yes, I notice.
I want to speak up to the fact that there is more available to us than taking extreme positions or opting out altogether. I have been trying to use my political posts (not a steady diet for me) to appeal to the commonality among us all. For example, if we think about it, both extremes of the gun debate want what? Safety, of course. So these times and these guns could be fuel to encourage us to examine THAT common humanity, the wish to live without being overrun. That’s the theme that can unite us and bring us together. Guns are a tragic distraction.
The positions various sides choose to get there couldn’t be more entrenched and laden with ‘not hearing. That is the disease. So I attempt to speak clearly about the real goal.
We can be sure of one thing. Whatever world we create will change. The humanity and the joy of listening, though, can always be called upon, and when people get tired of fear, the listening and speaking are blessed. History is the story of this constant rebalancing.
Hey Tom – I do appreciate the thoughtfulness you employ when you choose to speak out. It never comes across as shrill or belittling, nor does it seem self-validating as rants sometimes can. Your genuine concern always shines through. Yours is the kind of voice I’ll always listen to and take into account. Here’s to more and more people growing tired of fear! Have a great weekend.
I heartily second your praise of Tom’s consensus-building approach, Vaughn. Wish we had more of it, especially on the Internet.
Cheers,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
This is consensus-building, Tom, looking for where we all can agree, then addressing what lies between us and that concord. Don’t let go of that. It’s one of the oldest and most naturally arising instincts of diplomatic interaction, in modern times eclipsed by results-oriented rushes and the sheer speed with which we expect transactions to occur.
I’m with Vaughn, thanks for it, it’s always appreciated in your commentary here.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Hi, Vaughn,
Sorry for the very late reply.
For my own part, I think that moderation and compromise not only are excellent values and never more acutely needed than now, when—as we’ve just seen in the UK—extremists and alarmists can mislead a great many people. (It’s heartbreaking to see so many Britons who voted to leave the EU are saying that they didn’t understand the gravity or truth of what they were doing. Google has found that the 2nd most-searched question during it all from UK voters was “What is the EU.” Amazing, huh?
What I’d wonder is why you’d think moderation and compromise are best kept to you fiction? Asked another way, don’t you find that your fiction isn’t always responsive to the here-and-now thins you want to discuss?
Always a pleasure to hear your thoughtful comebacks on these provocations, thanks so much,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_ Anderson
Porter-
My WIP deals, in part, with the after effect of gun violence on one man.
The story does not take a position on the Second Amendment. However, it does show that firing a gun, even to protect, has life-changing consequences. My hero doesn’t feel like a hero for pulling a trigger.
That’s what fiction can do, take an issue and plumb the nuances, turn the issue from ideological to human.
In the story, my hero has a brother, an Army sniper, who loses an arm in Iraq. He has PTSD and survivor guilt. (His spotter was killed by the same IED.)
On the sidelines during a standoff with police, my hero says this: “When you fight a war with guns, the winner is always the guns.”
And that’s all I’m going to say. My story says the rest.
Sounds like interesting work, Benjamin,
Thanks for reading and joining in on the discussion here.
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
After a lifetime of espousing green causes, I find it hard to hold back in my writing, and most of my readers know what I believe. Maybe that’s why I didn’t receive a huge response to my first novel, which addressed the issue of cloning of horses for profit not welfare. As an equestrian journalist, I had a captive audience – in a way – but I suspect on issues like fox hunting, I lost readers. Is it too late to be cautious what I say? Or what my characters say?
Hi, Roland,
Thanks for your input.
I think the real question here is not whether it’s “too late to be cautious” what you say but whether you want to be.
As I’ve said, there’s no necessarily right or wrong answer to this, and the response that’s right for you is yours alone to determine.
My biggest interest is in asking writers to think about it, to be aware of shifts and trends in business and in public discourse, so that they’re conscious of their own decisions in terms of how they want to stand in the world.
And think about it, you have. For which I thank you.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Because the deepest source of writing comes from our subconscious, I believe that all writing has a philosophy of agenda at its core.
To stick one’s head in the sand and not acknowledge it consciously I believe is naive at the best end of the spectrum, and at the worse end, the life and work of Leni Riefenstahl.
Life is too precious to stay silent in the face of evil. Or, to paraphrase my hero Thomas Paine. If I want to enjoy a world of peace and freedom, I must do my part to support a world of peace and freedom.
Change for the better begins with individuals who acknowledge they must become a part of the change from within, and also from without, as a collective. That from my POV is what art and life, are all about.
Hey, Bernadette,
I appreciate your thinking here, and I agree with you that we each have a duty to respond and engage.
While I also agree that good writing comes from a deep place in a writer’s psyche, I don’t think that all writing, particularly today, is authentic to that depth. I think we’ve come to value entertainment too much. Barry Knister in this discussion has mentioned the book Amusing Ourselves to Death by the late Neil Postman—this is exactly the problem, alas more than three decades since the book was published.
When it comes to response and responsibility, I hope that more writers find their way to a sense of themselves in-society, in-culture, in the world. I wish I saw more signs of this, but I also understand the unprecedented pressures that modern marketing brings to bear on creative people: everything must be a “goddamned laugh riot,” as the old phrase goes, if it’s to be successful. Melodrama, weepy nostalgia, and a wretched love of “a good cry” seem to pervade so much content these days — I’m not optimistic that we can pull this back.
But for that, I can all the more readily salute your interest in your work as a feature of change, and thanks for your good comment.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Thanks, Porter, for raising a really important question and quite obviously, you’ve touched a nerve. I have strong political opinions but I don’t express them on social media because I don’t see the opportunity to discuss them intelligently or to change minds in that venue. As James Scott Bell points out, there are haters and a lot of trash talk on social media and very little respectful disagreement and discourse. I love his statement: “A story well told is more persuasive than chatter.” That said, I mentioned in a closed group of writers that my work in progress is about a woman who lost her daughter in a terror attack who must now wrestle with the issue of whether the death penalty should be imposed on the lone surviving terrorist, a young girl herself, now paralyzed by a bullet inflicted by police. One of the writers advised me to be prepared for vitriol for venturing into a “hot button” political issue. But these issues are woven into the fabric of our lives. How can I not venture?
I applaud you, Mary!
Thank you, Susan!
Hi, Mary,
Apologies for the ridiculously late response. (One of the best parts of Writer Unboxed is the superb round of comments I always find here, but current work situations being what they are, it takes me the better part of a month to get around to everyone.)
I really appreciate your input here and I congratulate you on the stark seriousness of the project you’re working on. I was just saying to Bernadette in a reply to her that I’m very worried about the way our culture gravitates toward comedy and melodrama. For all our amazing growth as a species, we’re pretty much back to Commedia dell’Arte when you look at national network programming and even the vaunted productions of such entities as Amazon Studios, Netflix, HBO, and the BBC and ITV in the UK are less dangerous and challenging than they want to appear—populism has its hold on much of these strong efforts, too.
I do think that the nature of your material may bring you some backlash, if the work is widely consumed. It sounds, however, as if it’s looking at the kind of dilemma that’s well worth the risk of such backlash, and I sense that you’re going this direction for exactly that reason.
Some things do need to be said. The fact that the world makes it so hard to say them is not the fault of writers who try to say them, but the reactions can fall unreasonably hard on those writers. It takes courage to put serious issues on the line today. Congratulations on working in such a thematic space.
All the best with it.
Oh, and I was about to mention your note about changing minds, but I see Joylene with something to say on that in the next comment, so I’ll pick up on it there.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I’ve reached the age where I understand my words won’t sway anyone who doesn’t already have the same views. Even in my own family, I’m aghast at some of their biases. So, I do it the sneaky thing and have my protagonists preach on what I don’t. While I believe I’m wasting my breath, their (my characters) ideals will stand the test of time. I hope.
Hi, Joylene,
As I was saying to Mary in a comment above, you’re bringing up something important here that almost requires an article all its own: We don’t really change minds in the noisy debates and arguments we have these days with each other.
I think having your characters do the arguing for you makes perfect sense and it’s a huge advantage of storytellers, in fact, that they can create these parallel personalities to their own to say things.
The worrisome part of all this, though, is the fact that “getting through” to someone — causing him or her to give something a second look and perhaps to change their position or regard — is apparently almost impossible to do.
People rarely listen well enough or are open enough to new thoughts and viewpoints to reconsider their own positions. Instead, most exchanges are (futile) competitions, efforts to browbeat someone into agreeing. And that, of course, gets us back to the idea I have of this being an exchange of “anger tokens”—so many times, it’s all really just a way to exercise one’s anger, to vent.
This is hardly good news, of course, but there are hordes of deaf shouters roaming the net, people who have no hope — nor intention — of hearing and thinking and considering and learning.
Oddly, it does seem (and I say this cautiously, there may be smarter younger people nearby!) that this takes some maturity to grasp, per your phrase “I’ve reached the age where I understand.” I don’t know that I’ve been as clear on this, myself, as I wish I’d been earlier in life. A lot of time can be wasted in what we might think is earnest discussion before the truth of the fallacy is clear.
What we don’t know, of course (just to depress you further, lol) is whether even doing “the sneaky thing” and having your protagonists do the arguing will work, either. Do people get it from literature?—do they get anything from literature that they’re closed to in discussion?
Good question. I wish we knew the answer.
Thanks again, Joylene!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
On the responsibility to speak out, even at some cost to ourselves, no one has said it better than Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian and pastor who was executed by the Nazis in 1945 at the age of 39 for his part in the plot to assassinate Hitler:
“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil; God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.” From Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Prophet, Martyr, Spy by Eric Metaxas.
Amen!
Thank you, Vijaya.
Both sides are acting and speaking. Everybody thinks their side is the good side.
Hi, Tina,
Thanks, as ever, for your comment.
You’re correct to a point. There are, however, levels of hatred that can push people to operate beyond any ability to believe that they’re on a side for good.
One of the most profoundly fascinating and distressing examples of this now can be found in the post-Brexit abandonment by so many voters of the very position they said they though was the “good side” when they voted. The UK is full of voters with “buyers’ remorse” who now are speaking out in their thousands to say that they made the wrong call when they voted to leave the European Union, that they weren’t on the “good side” at all — that what they thought and were told was the “good” thing to do was exactly the opposite.
Their heads weren’t cool enough on the day of the referendum to know what they know now, as they watch their great nation staggered by this self-inflicted blow.
So I’ll respectfully disagree with you, and point you toward that blistering example all over the news.
In fact, I’ll even go so far as to recoomend you take a look at the US Republican Party, many in the leadership of which are trying to divorce the operation from the Trump campaign. This, too, is an example of an organization of people who might have told you a few months ago that they were on the “good side,” too…now, they’re casting about for what do to as their “good side” looks less good to them.
Complexity defeats us on these things, doesn’t us? While “both sides” in so many of our current dilemmas are, yes, “acting and speaking,” as you say, it’s impossible to believe that they all “think their side is the good side” anymore.
This is a far richer — and darker — quandary than many others we’ve encountered.
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Silence = Death
Yes, indeed, Viki. Over and over.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Hi, Carol,
And thanks for this.
My father the Methodist minister was very fond of quoting Bonhoeffer, who was, indeed, a provocateur I revere.
The difficulties we face today that might place on us the burden to speak, however, are just as subtly arrayed as was the rise of the Nazi Party that eventually placed such stark evil before Bonhoeffer. Once on the darkest side of evil’s work — as Bonhoeffer faced in the Flossenbürg concentration camp in which he was executed — the problem is at least horrifyingly clear.
The challenge before us today is to recognize what’s happening early, aggressively, while there’s time to speak out and call it by its name.
Ironically, one of the trickiest parts of this is that we have built up, over time, customs of “political correctness” which, however well-intended, make it harder to flatly name what needs naming without alienating and running off the very people who need most to hear what is being said.
The Brexit vote in the UK shows us, on many levels, a failure to do just that. The energies behind that turn of events are fearfully close to those that stare us in the face in the States’ election cycle, as well. How willing we are to say what needs saying will define, or not, what’s actually afoot here, as it is across the Atlantic.
Thanks again for your comment and for reading, hope you’re well,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
An excellent question, Porter. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. I feel muzzled as well, regularly. I wrestled with myself about whether or not I would come out and say I was pro-Bernie, for example. Both as a feminist and a writer, I knew I was taking chances with my image by choosing a man over a woman first of all, and someone far left of center compared to the other candidates. I decided, ultimately, that it’s more important to stand for something important–even if uncomfortable or risky–than stand for nothing at all. Which is precisely what silence is. Silence is acquiescence; it’s giving in to evil, it’s forgoing free will that we’ve worked so hard to maintain.
And so, I’ve posted various articles, a mini-clip of a rally I attended, etc. Very occasionally, I might add. I’ve posted a grand total of maybe six comments across both platforms in the last year–until the last two weeks. Now, with the gun violence and the absurd fear-mongering hate speech coming from one of our candidates and those who support him, I’ve become quite a bit more vocal. As you said so eloquently in your post, writers must be leaders as we have the gift of speech, of putting words together that can affect change. It’s powerful and meaningful and important. Saying something is imperative. Just do it well and wear your armor.
Thanks for this super response, Heather.
In the time since I wrote this piece, we’ve had only more devastating events that call into stark question the issue of gun violence.
If there’s any bright spot at all, it’s that discussions are deepening and long denied conditions of how we live together (and apart) in our society are being faced and debated more frankly. This can only take us closer to where we need to be, at least in our public discourse.
And in your keen understanding of the importance of writers’ linguistic capabilities, a distinguishing mark of this is accuracy.
What you notice in the rhetoric of this hellish moment is that some of the speakers in broadcast network coverage—and I’ve done a lot of it, as you know—speak carelessly, recklessly, without specification and with almost zero regard for the constraint of saying things accurately. Often it’s in written accounts and commentary that you get something more meticulously parsed—getting facts and references correct.
There are exceptions on both sides, of course: some speak with concision, others write in lax speculation.
But it becomes clearer how crucial sheer accuracy is, as ambushes and other killings occur and various parties go to work to spin those events in one direction or another.
Simply trying to get emotional reactors to stay within the lines of what’s known and what isn’t is hard. The difference in saying that someone “declines” to answer a question and saying that person “refuses” to answer—that simple selection of whether to use a charged word (“refuses”) or a neutral word (“declines”)—can carry impact.
If nothing else, a writer’s sense of language’s subtleties at times of this kind, is invaluable. Putting words together in ways that are responsible, balanced, restrained, and careful can make all the difference in meaningful exchange vs. nonproductive alarmism.
This is the crux of what’s important in so many ways right now.
As you write: “Silence is acquiescence; it’s giving in to evil, it’s forgoing free will that we’ve worked so hard to maintain.”
You’re right, and where writers can respond with the prudence of their best work, then surely they can make a positive contribution at a time that feels all too negative.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I read a Canadian blog every day, Dave Hingsburger’s Of Battered Aspect, subtitled: Doing damns the darkness.
He is gay, disabled, large, married to his partner of 47 years when gay marriage became an option for everyone else, and the kindest, gentlest person I know. An advocate for the disabled of all kinds even before he became disabled himself.
His post after the massacre in Orlando (where he had been) was titled Thoughts and Prayers (https://davehingsburger.blogspot.ca/2016/06/thoughts-and-prayers-orlando.html) and he said HE DIDN’T WANT THEM.
Because that’s all people do, most of the time. A brief ‘how horrible,’ and back to their lives.
I posted several items on my FB page, clearly stating that there might be people who would unfriend me because of them. And that I believe such things as there is NO reason for buying an assault weapon and that it is no one’s business what adult people who love each other choose to do in their private lives.
I’m Catholic. I don’t agree with the Church’s official position on a number of things, including birth control and homosexual activity being a sin.
It was hard to get started – normally, I’m the least confrontational of people, and able to get along with all kinds.
But a nephew was killed by a classmate some years ago with an unsecured gun (the other kid then shot himself), and I am terrified of running into people carrying guns, because I then have to trust THEIR self-control around ME.
I guess I’ve outed myself several places as a result of needless deaths, and the fact that they keep happening, and that I believe the 2nd Amendment is misinterpreted presently, and that we can change it if we, as a nation want to – the Constitution was written in a different time, and has already been amended several times.
I have only one book out – we’ll see if it can make my sales go negative.
Is that what you meant?
Alicia,
What I meant is what you demonstrate well here: you’re conscious of your decisions to speak clearly and earnestly to what you believe.
My article isn’t meant to say that you should or shouldn’t engage in political debate that might affect your sales, but that you should think about it, weigh its importance to you, understand what you think are potential consequences, and make your choice to address one thing or another with all of that assessment in place.
It sounds to me as if you’re well on top of the influences you’re responding to and how you think your response should go. While I hope you’re not experiencing any backlash, what’s even more important is that you’ve thought it through and are operating on the basis of that thought process.
What’s authentic to you as the correct course is what’s important. And I can easily applaud you for simply bringing it to such a high level of awareness for yourself. More frequently than not, it’s the half-thought-through gesture and response to things that go wrong. You’re on top of it, and more power to you.
Thanks again,
-p.,
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
“When our biggest concern is not whether our words are true, but whether our words will result in punishment, then we are giving away our most precious freedom.” (Juan Williams, “Muzzled: The Assault on Honest Debate.”)
I agree.
As writers, unless our writing is confined to a personal journal, our words are part of the public sphere, even if our public is no larger than our family and friends. This, I believe, imposes an obligation to be as truthful as possible with ourselves as well as our readers.
Good for you, well said, and thanks for this!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter
You call us again to examine the meaning and depth of our work. (And our public profiles that support it.) Because it has been addressed so well above, I’m going to leave critique on the devolving state of online and face-to-face communication in all its manifestations to others above and stick to the novel.
I note that many here begin by saying it isn’t an issue for them yet because they aren’t published. But that evades the point. What are we writing and what are we writing for? Do we hope to bring stuff up later IF we get recognized as a result of being oh-so discrete in the early part of our careers?
And some published authors squirm about losing readers.
My sense on both statuses is that hiding yields much less connection with readers than staking out ground. After a paragraph of your article, I thought of Irving’s The Cider House Rules. He took on abortion in his narrative and made all sides cogitate. An amazing story . . . with guts. Animal rights activists shunning Hemingway’s The Old Man of the Sea because a beautiful is caught is cutting off noses to spite faces. The fishhook and the bullet are tools we have created. My take? I think we have to deal with life as it is. Among other things we authors are watchmen (and sooth sayers) of society. No one else has the ability to form language as we do. It’s our gift.
AND. . . by holding back from subjects of power and controversy (they aren’t always the equivalent forces) aren’t we authors diminishing our characters’ lives and therefore the tales we choose to tell? And missing the passions of readers? And therefore hurting our careers, not to mention our own sense of ourselves and our own lives?
Published or not, I choose to mine civilization, culture, humanity and wisdom (or its lack) in my work. My last novel takes on the gun issue by placing it at the heart of backstory and present. All the players want to cover a mass murder with national anthems or denial about how the guns got there. Denying crimes of contribution, fostering, financing all along the way. Crimes of burial (figurative and literal) and misremembering going forward. So many hands on them. The guns almost rise to level of a character.
Orlando reminds us that the gun is here. We avoid dealing with it in our literature at our peril as a species. It’s all in how we handle it. As for more casual work, we needn’t look far for proof that epithets spoil face-to-face and online communication. This is the story of our age, growing like cancer. That too deserves a place in our novels.
Thanks as always. Campari coming at you.
People are willing to give up their rights to fly on commercial airplanes, but they won’ t give up their right to own a semi-automatic assault rifle. Why do people need these rifles? To kill animals for sport? That doesn’t sound sportsman-like to me. But I may be biased since I don’t eat animals or wear their skin. Do people need these rifles for protection? People in America need semi-automatic assault rifles for protection? Perhaps. That scenario is foreign to me. I would call 911 for protection. People don’t really need these guns, they want these guns and it is their right to have them. I would like to make semi-automatic rifles unavailable to civilians, and wanting that my right. I know there will be future mass killings, the killers will use whatever weapons they can get their hands on. (I used to carry an M16-A1, and I know the damage they can cause. There is no reason to have any version of this weapon available to civilians. They make the killing too easy.) Currently, most of us can get these rifles, but I am hoping that will change.
Porter Anderson, I disagree with you (and so many other people) about voting being our duty. I believe it is a privilege and it is my right not to vote if I don’t want to.
Tomorrow I am going to the LGBTQ+ parade in my city. My 13 year old gay son will be marching. Until last year, he was my daughter who insisted that she was a boy. So, he is transgender. I sincerely hope that no fear-, anger-, hate-filled people show up for this event. It is a celebration of pride. If you don’t like rainbows, stay home.
On second thought, it is your right to protest this event, so do that if you must. But please don’t hurt anyone.
Sigh…
We’ve had this conversation before, Porter, but given what happened on Saturday night, I’m weighing in here.
I’ve gotten into some enthusiastic discussions on Facebook this week – from my personal page. Not on my author page. I blocked one person who was getting a little too personally threatening about my position on guns, but otherwise it’s been something I can just walk away from if it gets too hot.
That said, I wrote my blog post this week about Orlando. I couldn’t avoid it.
I’ve been in and out of the AIDS community since the late 80s (back in pretty deep since 2011). I’ve written one book about losing friends to AIDS, compared military vets to long-term survivors in the AIDS community in my latest book and am researching a book about the contributions of straight women during the epidemic. In my younger days I was in theatre, so I’ve been around the LGBT community forever. My nephew is gay, as is my late father’s best friend.
What I felt compelled to write about was the flashbacks I was having: things that happened this week took me back to the early days of the AIDS epidemic. One of my friends told me I’d struck a nerve with him, because he’d been unable to figure out why he too was reacting the way he did.
My support of the LGBT community, then, is well-known in my personal and professional lives. I could not ignore what happened in Orlando and blog about something else. My readers and followers would’ve been shocked if I had done that.
I made a conscious decision a long time ago that I would risk losing sales and readers to write what I believed. That did happen with my 3rd book (about losing friends on 9/11). It boasts the lowest sales of any of my books. That’s okay. I wouldn’t change a word.
There’s a good chance I’ll write about Orlando again next week – again, not about guns. I just don’t find many ways to talk about guns without the conversation going from zero to 60 in 1.3 seconds. And that’s not what’s important to me right now.
So, if I lose readers, fine. If I can’t be honest about what I write, what’s the damn point?
Of course I write nonfiction, so I guess that makes a difference.
One thing I learned in a fiction class about dialogue was that in order to make it sound real you had to understand how it works. Often in a conversation, people aren’t reacting to what the other said. They want to say something, they want to be heard, but they don’t really want to listen, so often two people talking sounds like two completely different conversations. Which is why I think online debates go nowhere (other than down).
And Victoria, you struck a chord. I’ve been out since the 1980s, and while the AIDS crisis has not had a serious impact on my circle of friends, the Pulse shooting brought back all sorts of feelings and memories: Of the local gay newspaper reporting the number of deaths and new cases every week until the numbers got too high and depressing, so they stopped.
Back then, 49 gay men died probably every day, if not hour.
I’m in a niche of lesbian publishing, so my circle of readers is pretty homogeneous (pun sort of intended). Still, there are topics that get you in trouble, and you might not know what they are until it’s too late. Trigger warnings, and whether books should come with them, are a constant topic of conversation online. I wrote a novel that includes rape, animal abuse, and a trans character. The blurb is probably enough to know the first two will be addressed. The trans character is the one that resulted in a vitriolic Amazon review that got 12 comments and 28 “helpfuls,” making it the top review readers see. I figure, if it has hurt sales, then it’s best that people know what they are getting before they buy. I hadn’t publicized the character, knowing she’d be controversial and betting that if people could get to know her in the story, they’d feel better about her, which is what happened with my beta readers.
To Porter’s questions, I’ve tried to stay out of the debates online. There are writers who can come up with a thousand eloquent words the day after such horrible events, while I have to be at work and can’t even focus on the task in front of me, never mind compose a blog that I hope goes viral.
And, honestly, I’m tired of reading eloquent blogs, or Facebook posts, or shared memes about horrible, tragic events that never should have happened.
Thanks, Elaine. Here’s the blog post: https://www.victorianoe.com/friend-grief-and-orlando/
Great post, Porter. I was traveling and so just read this. My take: I use twitter to express my strong feelings; I use my fiction to create a world that can handle those feelings, as I want them handled. And recently, I am feeling very strongly that I want to write nonfiction to underline how I feel. Example: I recently read Ta-Nehisi Coates book, Between the World and Me. I will never be the same. Beth Havey
I’m grateful for this discussion, Porter, though coming late to it. While I agree with the need for writers to tread carefully in social media and other public discourse, we may have to go there if we write about controversial subjects, like Thomas Mallon and Gregory Spears in your example. If we are going to write about an issue–and I hope we are, per Tom Pope’s comment–then we’ll most likely have to speak up about it.
I guess it would be possible to decline to discuss the subject of your book/opera/etc., but that seems self-defeating. When my memoir of being on welfare (and how it worked for me and everyone I knew the way it was supposed to) was published, I knew that I’d have to face enraged people who disagreed. I was willing to pay that price and didn’t hold back in interviews or in the social media related to the memoir. As it turned out the negative comments faded pretty fast when I didn’t respond. The fanatics were never going to be my readers anyway.
I like your idea of “anger tokens”–exactly!–and the wish for more people to “argue their convictions without trying to win over anyone.”
Yes, Barbara, your work (and bravery to engage) with the welfare subject carries a particular swagger for this conversation. Glad you entered it.