Echo Chambers

Social Divisions

Wedge Issues

Polarization

On my mind this morning, as I’m reading an article in The New York Times about book banning, and how it has gone from a family or community issue to a political one, thanks largely to social media.

I’ve had other discussions with fellow campers over the last 3+ months or so about the deep divisions I see in today’s society. Some felt that it was an “us versus them” issue, others pointed to this or that party, to the media, to the internet. 

I, having grown up without the ripple effects of social media, feel that the internet, with its infinite, deep rabbit holes, has created a new society, one thwt is dangerously anonymous. It’s like that old cartoon by New Yorker cartoonist Peter Steiner:

This cartoon inspired the play Nobody Knows I’m a Dog by Alan David Perkins. The play revolves around six individuals, unable to communicate effectively with people in their lives, who nonetheless find the courage to socialize anonymously on the Internet. 

Which illustrates my anxiety: On line, the only identity you have is the one you choose, and the friends you have are the ones who agree with you. You need never interact with others with different ideas. What results are people living in deeply divided echo chambers, some very radical and some very dangerous. 

A young man from California I spoke with yesterday admitted that the internet had, in many ways, become an echo chamber (“Just because they agree with you doesn’t necessarily make them good people to hang out with,” he said.), but also pointed out that for many young people, like the characters in the play, it was a source of support, a space for the ‘different’ (or just socially awkward) to find others like them. We both agreed that there was little or no place for a middle ground: politically or socially, and he told me of his experiences in the early gaming community (he was from Silicon Valley, after all), where to be a fan of one game meant disparaging those who played another game; there was no place for someone who would ‘cross the lines.’ 

And yet, as I meet individuals in my travels, this is seldom an issue. We talk about our homes and families, our travels, we compare campers and gadgets, we complain about or exult in the weather. Occasionally, we go deeper. Some exchanges don’t go so well, as in Montana, where I started a conversation about the January 6th hearings with a man in line with me. He blames a Democratic plot. Somehow, we moved on to religion. This Christian told me I had to accept the Bible as the inerrant word of God, written by God. I kept thinking that as Christians, the same things should upset us, but that was not the case. He was upset about liberals, abortion, immigrants taking jobs and ‘government handouts’; I was upset about poverty, racism, gun violence, and womens’ lack of control over their own bodies. No doubt, he was convinced I was going to hell; I told him that his tattoos were specifically forbidden in his Bible. It did not end well.

In Oregon, sitting around a campfire with shots of Irish whiskey, Russ and I got into a political discussion with a man who had voted for Trump, and who thought that Trump and the Republicans had done good things for the country. We spoke of our concerns; about poverty and racism, about the high cost of medical care. He was not a hard-liner: he disagreed with the overturn of Roe v. Wade, and he listened as I gave my viewpoint on the ‘good’ that Republicans have brought to this country. I conceded that he could keep his guns, as long as we could find a workable solution to gun violence. Russ said something brilliant, which we all heartily agreed with: the media presents the ‘news’ so as to divide us and create fighting, which creates great news. And so the cycle goes. We parted the next day, thanking them for the exchange.

So where is the middle ground, where people can agree on goals and work out their ideas about how to achieve them? Where are the safe spaces for the ’different’, the shy, the ones who are struggling to be connected? Where can dangerous ideas be heard and alternate ideas be presented, or help given?

I don’t know. I think our church is doing a pretty great job of being a middle ground, allowing everyone to be themselves, to be heard and accepted, but not everyone will accept the forum of organized religion. Maybe we all need to sit together around a campfire once in a while. Whiskey optional. S’mores might help.