The historical subtext of online conflicts

If life has taught me anything, it’s that a conflict never happens only here and now. For all involved, it has roots, and those roots are invisible, maybe even for the person to whom they belong.

On one side, we may have a person whose whole life and identity have been repeatedly called in question their entire life. From every classmate, teacher, parent and priest they’ve got the message that what they are is impossible and undesirable. When you question them, however mildly, they will hear all those people in your voice.

On the other side, we may have a person whose parents and friends made fun of their tastes and their interests their whole lives. From every sibling, co-worker and boss they’ve heard the same old thing: that what they enjoy is shallow and laughable – maybe even immoral. When you question their tastes, however mildly, they will hear all those people in your voice.

It’s like those wars that never seem to end, because neither side is ready to accept years of abuse and wrongs and take the first step towards mutual understanding. I see it happening, and I can to some extent understand both sides.

I think we need to be aware of this, both when it comes to our antagonists, but also, perhaps even more crucially, when it comes to ourselves. We need to realize that yes, the voice we’re hearing does echo all those years of pain, but it also belongs to a unique person who doesn’t know you, your history or your reasons for being the way you are.

Too much to ask? Maybe. Because feelings are unwieldy beasts. But at least it’s an explanation for why things escalate. It’s an explanation for how someone who seems so nice on the surface can hurt you so deeply. They truly don’t know. You’re just a non-face on the internet, but your voice joins a chorus they’ve learned to despise – a chorus you may not have chosen to join, but whose words you use.

And on it goes.