You definitely don’t have to read my blog in order to get the idea that living in another country does wonders for your self awareness–the entire internet of expatriats will tell you that. Each time an aspect of a person’s life changes, there’s the chance that that person will need to bounce new information off of their beliefs, attitudes and values in order to continue making sense of the world. Maybe, for example, I believe that English is the world’s language, even though the world is full of other languages that are thriving. I take that belief with me to Germany, where I know everyone learns English to a level of very high competence. Enculturation should be absolutely no problem for me, right? I can just speak English to everyone!
Then, I get to Germany, and English it up with everyone I see. Everything feels smooth–the people I meet are friendly and can, in fact, speak English very well. But, then I learn a little German, and begin practicing it with people I don’t know in random situations.
What a difference.
While people are friendly when approached in English, the friendliness of unknown people (you can never test theories about humanity on your friends, unless you’re into sample bias) reaches noticeably new heights. Where I used to receive short responses and polite smiles, I now receive jokes, laughter and friendly smiles. Even when I speak bad German. But enculturation is smooth if English is so widespread, right?
So, I reexamine my original belief in light of this new information. Do I change my original belief to accommodate it (enculturation is way easier if you learn the local language)? Do I consider this experience an unimportant fluke and disregard it? Or, do I add information to my discovery so that I can still believe both things (enculturation is still easy with English, except in Munich, where people seem to prefer the local language)?
I can’t exactly say that the above experience is mine, since I enrolled in my first German course before I even arrived. But it’s totally relatable and I also can’t exactly say it’s not mine, either. So there it is.
What actually is happening to me involves my love of debate, my (physical) separation from most of my closest friends, and my daily reliance on the Internet. After almost 10 years of using it, I’m beginning to consider Facebook a legitimate outlet for opinion. And because I’ve always seen the Facebook mini feed as the domain of cat owners, amateur chefs and nosy employers, I’m not sure whether or not I should feel good about that.
I’ve always argued with people on niche websites–underneath TED Talks, on YouTube channels, in subreddits, and on and on. But I’ve also always had outlets for discussion in the real world: my friends. I absolutely love talking about different sides of a controversial issue with friends. Many times I even adopt a point of view that I don’t believe, so that I can see how other people would defend the opposite. For example, I told some friends at work back in the US that Christmas is our first opportunity to teach our kids disappointment and skepticism. Eventually, we tell them that everything they thought was magic about the holiday doesn’t really exist, and that their parents made it up so that it would make them feel good. My friends were outraged, and they argued back, asking me questions that forced me to think about the positive aspects of Christmas (“And what would your early years have been like without Christmas?”).
We were close, so eventually it got to the point where, on the weekends, my friends would toast and take a drink every time I put an off-the-wall opinion or question on the table. And then they would argue back. I could get away with questions and comments that would make acquaintances uncomfortable, because my friends were comfortable enough with our relationship to…adequately voice their bafflement.
Now, in Munich, all of my friendships (except for one important one) are brand new. This means that I hold back during discussions that arise without my help, and refrain altogether from starting controversial discussions. For now.
In the meantime, I still need that outlet. That means I need a reason to argue, and I need people who will argue back. Also, in the meantime, my Facebook mini feed has become more interesting (or maybe I’m just noticing the interesting parts, now). Some of my friends have been putting their own ideas in their feed or extolling the value of someone else’s idea. For instance, a link to this article coupled with an opinion on the state of US Medicaid appeared in my feed earlier this evening:
An old friend Isaac posted that to Facebook, encouraging us to think about the benefits of an expanded Medicaid system. The thing is, I’m completely confused by that article, emotionally. The article itself is extremely inspiring. But, if someone doesn’t treat the comment section growing out of the bottom of it soon, it may metastasize and kill its host. The short version of the experience is this:
Author/Doctor: “We should save people. I can explain why.”
People: “FAGGOTIDIOTRETARDWARDEATHMACHINEBIGOTRACISMGODISDEAD”
I wanted to say those things on Facebook, in the comments beneath his post. The point of doing so would be to say that, while the notion of doing everything we can to save people is uplifting and inspiring, my impression is that that kind of altruism exists nowhere except for in the minds of people who explicitly build their lives around it (i.e. begin a career that functions on altruism). If I did post that comment, I would wonder what the other people reading that article through my friend’s post were thinking. Can they find comfort in that comment section? Can they find discomfort in that article? Socialized medicine is a big deal, after all. But each time my fingers touched the keyboard, something in my mind begged me not to go through with it. It was mumbling most of the time, and it may have had Kool-Aid on its breath, but what it said sounded something like “Don’t do that, man. You’re supposed to watch what you say on Facebook. This place represents the diversity of your personal relationships more than any other. When you blast opinions all over it, then you’re bound to alienate someone.”
But, isn’t the point of discussing opinions “alienating” someone else? Isn’t someone else supposed to read or hear your opinion, and then think “WHAT!?” and then ask you why it’s your opinion? Then you tell them and ask why they asked? Isn’t that how the original poster and the alienated reader both learn?
So, why is it that I’m so reserved about posting opinions on Facebook? What could go wrong?
As of now, I’m not sure what could go wrong, or how I feel about using Facebook as a debate outlet, myself. Practically speaking, Facebook is so rife with nitpickery over the value of posts (I’m sure you’ve read the best practice lists about cat posts and food posts) that many attempts at conversation would go unnoticed and therefore unanswered. Honestly speaking, though, there’s always the chance I could take my love of controversy too far one day and, lacking the anonymity I enjoy on the rest of the web, pariah my way out of my friends’ feeds. After all, trolling random people is a lot safer than trolling your friends. So, for the time being, I’ll stay away from Facebook as a forum for debate.
Fortunately for me, though, I do have a blog.