My post earlier in the week may just have gotten more comments than anything I’ve ever written. I believe Steve Lawson called it “a great trainwreck of a comments thread.” In addition, I have received a dozen e-mails and IMs from readers of my blog extending their support. One of those e-mails was from my friend Josh Neff. He mentioned a term that I’d never heard before and that really struck a chord with me: charitable reading. I hope he doesn’t mind that I quote him here:
Having spent years on web forums where people got in the pissiest, snarkiest arguments I’ve ever seen (and sometimes been a part of), I’ve picked up on one thing that I think is crucial for any kind of internet discussion: charitable reading. Read what I’ve written assuming that I mean the best possible thing, not the worst.
Yes! In an environment where we often do not know personally the people whom we are addressing and can’t always discern their tone from their writing, we really should try to cut people some slack. I am not the sort of person who usually goes around trying to make people feel badly about themselves or what they do on my blog. I try to encourage people to do things. I tell people that anyone can write a book, anyone can speak at a conference, anyone can get their own column. In an area where most people are rather secretive, I am always willing to share details of how I got any of the amazing opportunities that have come my way in the hopes that it will help others. So why, when I try to write a post that admittedly was a bit muddled (though my intent was pretty clear), would people assume the worst about me?
I can understand someone asking for clarification. I am totally ok with someone disagreeing with me or even criticizing my ideas. I like a good dialogue. But for someone to tell me that I was trying to “shame” people into changing their writing? Really? And then asking me for clarification, but when I give it, continuing to attack me in comment after comment. I thought it would have been enough when I explained that I did not mean that everyone saying “me too” is exhibiting groupthink and that I meant to empower people to feel comfortable criticizing “sacred cows” not to make people feel ashamed of what they did write. But it wasn’t. And it becomes so clear that this does come from a very personal place when the commenter finally writes “Guess I’ll go back to ‘me-too’ posts and comments and take my chances boring people with a lack of opinion or disagreement.” Ouch!!!
There are three ironic/sad things about this. The first is that I know Jenny Levine. We have met on several occasions and had lunch when I was visiting ALA Headquarters for my wiki extravaganza in September. I did a podcast for her ALA 2.0 Bootcamp when she asked me to do it. I’ve always thought a great deal of her and have been so excited to read about what she’s been doing with technology and community-building at ALA. And I assume that she has never thought me to be a demon who tries to put people down and make them feel badly. The second is that last year I had strongly defended Jenny and Michael Stephens when another blogger was attacking them. Jenny thanked me personally for defending them and I responded “I think we sometimes forget that for every nasty criticism we make on our blog, there is a human being who may very well be hurt by it.” The third is that I don’t find her posts boring at all. I do wish she posted more because I always enjoy her insights when she does blog, but I get that she’s busy. I’m certainly a lot more busy and post a lot less than I used to. I wish there were more hours in the day, but what can you do.
So there are a lot of reasons why Jenny could have cut me some slack, but she chose to come at me with guns blazing. And even when I tried to make it clear that I didn’t mean to shame people and tried to clarify my thinking, she didn’t stop. For some odd reason, she couldn’t let it go.
But this isn’t just about Jenny. This is about every one of us who has ever jumped down another person’s throat online. I would probably guess that most of us have been guilty of this at one point or another. I know that’s why I don’t subscribe to listservs much anymore other than Web4Lib because people would always write things that would make my blood pressure rise. It’s just not worth getting excited over.
I know we can feel so distant from the people whose blogs we are commenting on (even when we know them), but we need to remember that there is a human being on the other side of this exchange who may be very hurt by what we write. There is a difference between being critical and attacking someone. I used to be a therapist and was a big fan of cognitive therapy, which posits the idea that you can see events in different ways depending on your world view, biases, or even just how you’re feeling that day. Someone getting an F on a test could think, “I’m an idiot and will never be good at anything” or they can think “well, if I study harder next time instead of watching Family Guy re-runs, maybe I’ll do better.” People obviously saw different things when they read my blog post on Monday. Some people saw a blogger who was trying to encourage people to not be afraid to criticize ideas that are thought of as “sacred cows.” Other people read it and saw it as an attempt to shame people into writing differently.
How would you like to see people? We have a choice in the way we view and react to things. I don’t think we should constantly worry about being polite and agreeing with what everyone else says by any stretch of the imagination. What’s so great about the blogosphere is the dialogue; not a monologue. But when has someone changed their mind after being attacked? Who has said “well, now that you’ve jumped down my throat, I really see your point and agree”? They may feel intimidated (especially if the blogger is a major A-lister or a well-known librarian) and raise the white flag, but chances are, you won’t change their mind. What will change their mind is a persuasive argument… a smart criticism. Jumping down someone’s throat has little benefit other than to let you vent your spleen. Is it really worth it?
Probably the saddest thing I read this week was an e-mail from a friend of mine who wrote “all of this brouhaha over your blog post is another example of why I am absolutely deathly afraid of creating a library blog.” It’s such a shame, because she is smart, honest, pragmatic and a great librarian. Whatever shuts down dialogue, be it over-politeness or intimidation, is really an unfortunate thing. I promise to do the best I can to encourage people to express themselves; not to beat them down when I’m not even 100% sure of their intentions.
To be honest, I just stopped reading the long comments coming from Jenny and yourself. I suppose you could call it “Charitable Unreading.”
I remember a time once when I was harping on a goal in hockey I felt I had scored on this friend and it got called back. If that goal didn’t get called back, we would have one the game. Instead the other team scored and we lost.
So, I harped on the friend saying “oh — you know that I scored that goal.”
His answer? “Great. You scored and won. Now shaddap and buy me a beer.”
I realized that the whole thing I was fighting for had no meaning once it was all over and we were having beers. Having won or lost this hockey game certainly means nothing to me now. I do wish I had that beer in my fridge though. 🙂
As for the person who’s afraid to create a library blog, well, with all due respect, putting your opinion out there is always going to be met with some level of dissent. That’s the choice — make your voice heard and take criticism for it, or watch everyone else take the lead in the discussion.
The best way to diffuse is to know when the discussion has hit its threshold and just stop posting comments. If the person continues, that just boosts your stats I suppose. No skin off my back.
And the biblioblogosphere is nothing even remotely close to the way usenet used to be. Not even the tiniest bit close.
And the biblioblogosphere is nothing even remotely close to the way usenet used to be. Not even the tiniest bit close.
Quoted For Truth.
I don’t mind you quoting me at all, Meredith. Although you have to promise right here and now that you only quote me when I sound sort of smart.
I have absolutely been the person who picks someone else’s statement apart, harping on their word choice, twisting their argument all over the place. I’ve been subjected to the same treatment. But as Ryan points out, at the end of the day, both people have won absolutely nothing. The question is: is this really how we want to spend our time? It’s not how I want to spend mine.
Bingo. I don’t want to spend my time arguing about whether my arguments (or someone else’s) are 100% rhetorically consistent or not. What a waste of time and energy. Life is precious and short and we all have better things to do.
And yes, I totally agree that nothing compares to usenet in terms of brutality. Communities like that can get really nasty. I think it’s because in the blogosphere there is less anonymity because we have our individual blogs where we build up an identity and can be held more accountable for what we write.
Your link to me is messed up. Obviously you hate me. You are dead to me.
Steve, suck my big fat OPAC, you cheap dimestore blogger.
Oh get a room you two carping nerdboys!
And it’s Jessamyn for the win!
More seriously… yes, the blogosphere can be a pointlessly nasty place. Been there, done that, even WITHOUT comments on my site. We all find ways to cope — the point being that there *are* ways to cope. I hope Meredith’s friend will reconsider her decision not to join us. We’re not *all* bad.
lol! Sorry ’bout that Steve (it’s fixed). I hope you can one day forgive me… perhaps after years of intensive therapy and drinking. 😉
While I was sleeping, I received five more very kind and supportive e-mails from friends and readers of my blog. I am truly touched by their support and I think it just shows that while the blogosphere can be a “pointlessly nasty place” you can also see the absolute best in people. Thanks to everyone who contacted me over the past few days for your incredible generosity of spirit. 🙂
Going through the comment thread makes me happy that my feed reader didn’t pick any of that nonsense up.
The reason why that April fools joke from last year was funny was because your initial post was completely on the mark.
Now how did I miss the April 1 item? I just explored it, jaw dropping more and more…(and just this weekend submitted “Ghosts in the Social Networks” as my May 2007 “disContent” column…I’m thinking about the number of one-post wonders created!) Geez, what ingenuity.
Between this post and Dorothea’s post, I see some excellent lemonade being made. Maybe even Meyer-grade lemonade. Good for both of you. (And the rest of us who’ve been involved in the email flurry.) I may just add a post about infinite possibilities and the payback for encouraging new voices, if I can come up with anything cogent to add. (Not that that’s ever stopped me in the past.)
I managed to avoid Usenet, by and large, but you need only look at /. and some high-profile tech sites with unmoderated comment lists to see that, well, it could be a whole lot worse even today. Not that I would actually suggest anyone go to /.
(In response to one of Meredith’s postings)
Speaking from experience, being “100% rhetorically consistent” is virtually impossible. I have quite a few contradictory feelings and impulses myself, and I try to figure out ways of reconciling them. Sometimes, just writing and conversing with someone who has goodwill towards you is a way to do so.
Perhaps if one is a machine, such solid logic might be more feasible, with inconsistencies neatly ironed out. But then, look what happened to poor HAL (and the crew of the Discovery) in 2001.
Man, I was just linking through the April Fool’s Joke. I can’t believe I missed out on such an important movement in the library world. I couldn’t stop clicking! 🙂
My recc would be to do what I had to do a year or so ago: decide to stay out of the vortex. You said X, someone said Y, then X, then Y… you know what? Let go. I said my piece about your piece on my blog and have moved on… too damn busy to do anything else.
You know what the vortex is. Avoid it. Life’s too short. We’re all too busy.
*runs out, gets “carping nerdboy” tattoo*
Meredith, all is forgiven. (I drink/heal fast.) XOXO.
a small collection of charitable reading links…
I remember first reading about charitable reading in Information wants to be free. The term was mentioned in an email which Meredith quoted from Josh Neff. Shortly afterwards, Josh Neff wrote about where he found the term: from an RPG-related…
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