I have a strange relationship with Facebook.
When it seems that most of my friends are content with limiting their timelines to their photos and perhaps a Vine or two, I choose to do more. I post just about everything from articles to song lyrics to recent events, even a haiku or two. It’s all there. I’ve always valued openness, I guess, and have never felt comfortable about misrepresenting myself to others. I’m proud of my identity and hold nothing back.
Besides keeping my timeline private to the public, there is one major exception to my openness rule: I strongly dislike comment debates.
We’ve all been there, either right in the action or spectating from the sidelines. Someone posts a status or shares an article, and suddenly it’s open season. I used to be comfortable with entertaining these discussions, as I always felt they offered valuable insight, whether it be anecdotal evidence or statistical data. As time went on, however, I realized that the few times these discussions proved valuable were not enough to justify their continued presence on my timeline.
The tipping point for me was during my freshman year of college when I had posted an article from the Swedish edition of “The Local” describing how the use of half-naked women by American Apparel to sell “unisex” shirts had sparked sexism complaints in Sweden, resulting in the US fashion retailer being reported to the country's advertising watchdog. The article posited a persuasive argument, and I supported the claims of sexism. Not a big deal as I share articles of this nature fairly often. There are usually a fair number of likes and comments, perhaps an exchange of ideas or two, and that would be all.
This time, however, a former friend of mine (we’ll call him Ben) made a rather pointed remark aimed at women, prompting responses from a number of my female friends. Several comments later, I jumped in and put an end to the discussion, as I felt it had gone off on a tangent that had nothing to do with the article. Ben then asked why I was “trying so desperately to be a knight in shining armor to women who had never even asked me to” and then blocked me.
I found out later that he had been dumped by his girlfriend the night before.
I ended up deleting all of the comments on that post and made the decision to reserve the right to restrict comments on any post I chose. As it turned out, not everyone who commented did so to gain a better understanding of an issue. From that point on, if I did not want to start a debate, I would not be forced into starting one.
Not to restrict the possibility of broadening my understanding, I encouraged my friends to message me with any thoughts they may have on an issue. Earlier this month, I struck up a conversation with a buddy of mine who is also a Duke student about a post from The Atlantic discussing allegations of religious rights violations in Denver. We shared our honest thoughts on the legal merit of the claims from both parties and also our personal thoughts on the matter, and a few hours later, when we decided to call it a night, I thanked him for prompting this discussion. While neither of us shifted our opinions completely, we both came away with a much better understanding of the issue at hand, and I realized our discussion, while long, actually benefitted our friendship rather than hurt it.
What was different about this exchange of views? Simply this: our conversation was rooted in genuine respect for the other person. As a result, our goal was not to stubbornly stick to our ideological persuasions and attack the other person for disagreeing with us. We simply sought to gain a better understanding of the issue from each other. We acknowledged that neither of us had all the answers and that our conversation was just a small part of a much bigger discussion that transcended our Facebook exchange.
This, I believe, is what is too often missing in the Duke community and in the academic community at large: respect for others. This lack of respect is what is poisoning good discussion on college campuses because we are more focused on shutting others down who disagree with us rather than sharing our thoughts with the intention of offering valuable insight.
I feel this negative reaction stems from what I call “the headline problem” where we are sometimes too quick to make judgments solely on the basis of a sentence-long headline. The problem is that headlines (and often entire articles) do not do a good job of accurately describing the complex process that goes into making a final decision, a process which is often a combination of personal experiences, individual morality and critical evaluation of available evidence. Trolls aside, those who possess alternative viewpoints have valid reasons for doing so, reasons they care deeply about, but it seems that we are not actually interested in inquiring about their beliefs to gain a better understanding.
There is a preference on social media towards shutting others down who share something we disagree with. Fair and open dialogue across differences and respect for the perspectives of others are the cornerstones of good discussion, and I believe this discussion is what is needed in order to actually progress as a society and truly move forward. Can this sort of discussion exist on Facebook? My personal experience inclines me to believe that it can indeed; however, it will take a collective effort from all. Regardless of our political persuasions, we must commit to supporting good discussion, no matter the issue, no matter how personally involved we feel in the outcome. Allowing additional input makes discussion in general more representative, honest and valuable, and helps us make more informed decisions to solve the problems of today and prepare ourselves for the challenges of tomorrow.
Paul Popa is a Trinity junior. His column runs on alternate Tuesdays.
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