In particular, we all need to read and absorb the analysis of Michael Hogg, professor and chair of social psychology at Claremont Graduate University (see Scientific American, September 2019, pp. 79â81). He shows that a state of âself-uncertainty social identityâ is fodder for the internet âinformation nodesâ like Twitter and Facebook. These âI-do-belong-hereâ platforms keep participants feeding on the amplified disinformation that everyone inside the group is better than everyone outside it, and that only inside are we safe. This repetitive, stupefying experience is its own kind of interruption of independent thinking, if not a killer of it.
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In fact, just the other day I was sent an analysis of this phenomenon by Alan Lightman, physicist and writer:
By not giving ourselves the minutes â or hours â free of devices and distractions, we risk losing our ability to know who we are and whatâs distractions, we risk losing our ability to know who we are and whatâs important to us. The destruction of our inner selves via the wired world is a subtle phenomenon. The loss of slowness, of time for reflection and contemplation, of privacy and solitude, of silence, of the ability to sit quietly in a chair for fifteen minutes without external stimulation â all have happened quickly and almost invisibly.
The situation is dire. We are losing our ability to know who we are and what is important to us. We are creating a global machine in which each of us is a mindless and reflexive cog, relentlessly driven by the speed, noise, and artificial urgency of the wired world. I would like to make a bold proposal: that half our waking minds be designated and saved for quiet reflection.
We need a mental attitude that protects stillness, privacy, solitude, slowness, personal reflection; that honors the inner self; that allows each of us to wander about without schedule within our own minds.
There is nothing real about âlikesâ. It is not meaningful respect or admiration, nor is the absence of âlikesâ meaningful disrespect or exclusion. It is platform numbness caused by platform nonconnection. And yet we live it as real. And we defend it.
Crucial in all of this is that it is not just the posts and pictures that go viral. It is, long term more devastatingly, the interruption of our independent thinking that goes viral. Interruption online is becoming the lived culture. It is so lived, in fact, that not only is it unquestioned, it is unseen.
Some of those have been of strangers, but recently Iâve had the experience of seeing people I know and love targeted and taken down. In most cases, very complex realities get watered down into one flawed aspect of these peopleâs personalities, or one mistake or misunderstanding. A mob mentality takes over then, an evisceration of character that is punitive, traumatizing, and isolating.
This has happened with increasing frequency over the past year, such that Iâm wondering if those of us with an intention of transforming the world have a common understanding of the kind of justice we want to practice, now and in the future.
What we do now is find out someone or some group has done (or may have done) something out of alignment with our values. Some of the transgressions are smallâsaying something fucked-up, being disrespectful in a group process. Some are massiveâfalse identity, sexual assault.
We then tear that person or group to shreds in a way that affirms our values. We create memes, reducing someone to the laughingstock of the Internet that day. We write think-pieces on how we are not like that person, and obviously wouldnât make the same mistakes they have made. We deconstruct them as thinkers, activists, groups, bodies, partners, parents childrenâfinding all of the contradictions and limitations and shining bright light on them. When we are satisfied that that person or group is destroyed, we move on. Or sometimes we just move on because the next scandal has arrived, the smell of fresh meat overwhelming our interest in finishing the takedown.
I say âweâ and âourâ intentionally here. Iâm not above this behavior. I laugh at the memes, I like the apoplectic statuses, the rants with no named target that very clearly critique a specific person. Iâve been examining thisâwhy I can get caught up in a mob on the Internet in a way I rarely do in life (the positive mob mentality I participate in for, say, BeyoncĂ© or Björk feels quite different, though I know there is something in there about belongingâŠeh, next book). I have noticed that at the most basic level, I feel better about myself because Iâm on the right side of historyâŠor at least the news cycle.
But lately, as the attacks grow faster and more vicious, I wonder: is this what weâre here for? To cultivate a fear-based adherence to reductive common values? What can this lead to in an imperfect world full of sloppy, complex humans? Is it possible we will call each other out until thereâs no one left beside us?
Not everyone has established such a clear heroic identity. The psychologist James Marcia argues that there are four levels of identity creation. The healthiest people have arrived at what he calls âidentity achievement.â Theyâve explored different identities, told different stories about themselves, and finally settled on a heroic identity that works. Less-evolved people may be in a state of âforeclosure.â They came up with an identity very early in their lifeâIâm the child who caused my parents to divorce, for instance, or Iâm the jock who was a star in high school. They rigidly cling to that identity and never update it. Others may find themselves caught in âidentity diffusion.â These are immature people who have never explored their identity. They go through life without a clear identity, never knowing what to do. Then there is âmoratorium.â People at this level are perpetually exploring new identities, shape-shifting and trying on one or another, but they never settle on one. They never find that stable imago.
Our close contacts donât just blind us, they also bind us to our outdated identities. Reinventing involves trying on and testing a variety of possible selves. But our long-standing social networks may resist those identity experiments. Remember Gary McCarthyâs chagrin when he learned, three years out of college, that his family had already pegged him as a âfinance personâ? Without meaning to, friends and family pigeonhole us. Worse, they fear our changing.