Qualified

feelings about this week's violence

It was the infographic that sent me over the edge. Her Instagram stories were blowing up all day with pundits, quotes, armchair experts, charts, graphs, and then finally the infographic. It was cold, callous stuff. All day long I couldn’t pull myself away from social media, like the good little addict the Meta shareholders want me to be. I so desperately wanted to pull away. My heart begged for distance but something in my brain overrode that plea. The doom scrolling continued until I came across that infographic.

The attacks by Hamas in Israel earlier this week were not even 24 hours old yet. The internet and everyone on it was hot with rage and opinions. This woman, who I once worked with, was flooding her stories, regurgitating the words of others. I tried to scroll past but found myself getting more worked up, feeling things I couldn’t articulate outside of ‘mad.’ Then came the infographic and a body-shaking wave of clarity. I muted this person, closed Instagram, and have tried to keep it at arms distance all week.

Social media has warped our sense of propriety. The town square, for instance, is a beautiful concept and one that I stand behind. There should be a space for the free exchange of ideas. These spaces are a crucial pillar of a democratic society. They act as a fifth estate, a place where government and the press can be held to account. They’re a place where every person has equal right to stand up and say something. I don’t want to live in a country that doesn’t allow for this.

However our perception of this town square has been distorted. Because of YouTube, social media, and the dark little corners of the internet, the town square is now worldwide 24/7. It is the world square and it never shuts off. What was once a place where anyone could speak has become a place where everyone is supposed to speak. The expectation is that all persons must have an opinion on all things at all times. To say nothing is to say something.

This scares me. So much damage has been wrought upon our institutions because of this very thing. If everyone is meant to have an opinion on everything then how can experts, people with actual credentials in their respective fields, find the microphone amid the chaos? How can knowledgable voices rise above the din? Well, they can’t. Or at least it’s really difficult. Without those experts, suddenly everyone becomes an epidemiologist. Or a sociologist. Or a psychologist. Or a historian. Or geopolitical expert.

This may come as a surprise to you, my dear PDW readers, but I am not an expert on Middle Eastern history. I know very little about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I am not Jewish or Muslim or from the part of the world. My ancestors are not from that part of the world (that I know of). I don’t know a single word of Arabic or Hebrew. In fact I just had to confirm with Google that those are the spoken languages of Palestine and Israel.

In other words, I am the last person who should have an opinion or a “take” on what happened earlier this week. Even reposting the words of others, like my Instagram friend did, seems irresponsible. This is how half truths and misinformation spread like wildfire. Well-meaning people put things out into the global town square that sound right without having the literacy to verify accuracy.

While I was pondering all this, having freshly muted my friend and with my blood pressure still high, a wave of clarity came over me. Our brains are trying to do the work of our hearts. That’s why we post infographics and look for arguments that put “context” around an atrocity. That’s why we look into the annals of history for explanation. That’s why we repost quotes that fortify an opinion we supposedly have. All that is a sign that the mind is trying to do a job it’s unqualified for.

What should you do when you hear that thousands of people were killed in horrific coordinated violence? Weep. What should you do when you hear that whole families were disappeared? Crumble down to the floor. What should you do when you hear that women are being raped before execution? Scream from your guts. What should you do when you hear that children and babies are killed? Lay down and allow your heart to break into a million pieces.

That is the only logical reaction to have.

Not arguments.
Not opinions.
Not reposting.
Not infographics.
Not logic.

No amount of context can make sense out of nonsense.

Since this wave of clarity I’ve been a bit more empathetic towards others as they navigate the online world in the midst of unbearable violence and war in the real world. Their behavior (our behavior) makes perfect sense. These brains of ours, from eons of evolution, are trying their best to protect us. Feeling hurt hurts. Laying down and letting our hearts shatter is excruciating. Sitting in pain, for even a moment, can feel devastating. So of course our brains, as dutiful as ever, try to take over and run the show.

The problem is that we’re not meant to be brains with legs. We’re meant to be whole human beings. We’re meant to exist in harmony with body, mind, spirit, and nature. We’re meant to feel as much as we think. If we rely on one facet of ourselves, the other parts become anemic. This imbalance, this disharmony, this disregulation is what leads to violence and war and atrocity in the first place. To kill another person would never occur to someone whose heart worked as much as their brain.

My prayer is that everyone the world over may let the tiniest sliver of grief hit them, even if for just a moment. I hope that all the armchair experts and pundits and opinionated influencers and everyone in between can stop for a second and let that sadness, the one beckoning from just below the surface, pierce their heart. It’s the only thing that can soften us. It’s the only thing that can possibly prevent more violence in the future. Feeling our humanity is the one thing, the only thing, that can save us.

That much I know.

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