I have a friend who has a firm rule of not talking about his opinions at all. He was taught from a very young age that his opinions don’t matter and that he should not express them, or at least be very careful about expressing them.
I’ve known him very well for the past three years but he’s always rejected chiming in on any conversation about religion and politics. After hundreds if not thousands of interactions where we’ve had to spend a lot of time together getting meals, running, and working together, the extent of what I know about his politics is that he didn’t approve of the Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade and he didn’t approve of socialism.
I’m a big contrast. I am a writer online who is very open about a lot of my opinions. I’m vulnerable and open to sharing the personal experiences that led to those opinions. I write a lot about politics and religion and am very transparent about pretty sensitive topics like race, sexuality, and my experiences as a teacher in education.
To be clear, I’m no fool. I don’t express every opinion and thought I have. I now know what opinions I should share and which opinions I shouldn’t. I don’t think this is a skill I picked up until the past two years or so, while in 2019 I was a lot more of an open book.
Now, I’m more guarded not only because there are rapidly shifting norms of what’s acceptable and what’s not acceptable, but I have personality traits that just don’t bode well for our current climate of discourse, as well as for my personal career and image.
I really try thinking for myself and I’m a natural contrarian.
There are a lot of opinions that have gotten me in trouble among my predominantly liberal peers, but a few include that we should have been kinder and less grating towards people who refused to get a COVID vaccine and that cancel culture is a thing and that it’s bad. When I was in college, I thought I could be friends with anyone as long as we got along enough, even if we had very different opinions. But once I got out in the real world, I learned some people don’t want to be friends with you if you have the wrong opinion.
There are probably several others I’m forgetting or never expressed because I was smart enough not to. In church, I once questioned the logistics of the resurrection and felt like I just uttered heresy, but it’s different with me and Christianity because I didn’t grow up Christian and with the church — I’m used to being an outsider, not part of a church community, and asking questions that grate against purity culture.
I’m not a contrarian in the sense that I always go for the opposite of whatever opinion is mainstream and popular, but that I question. I just don’t take well to being told what to think or pressured into what to think.
There are several issues I have feelings about but don’t know what I believe, like what the correct way to handle policing in America is, or what’s the best way to have a productive racial discourse. Frankly, I’m confused about these very sensitive topics, and open to a lot of perspectives and takes, but the world right now doesn’t incentivize that uncertainty.
Why we should normalize questioning again
There’s a lot of pressure to just conform to the opinions of people around you. And I understand the importance of solidarity and having a united front on hot-button issues (I am in a teacher’s union, after all).
A lot of people want to think for themselves instead of conforming to whatever the most popular or acceptable opinion out there. But our current political climate and discourse, on both the right and the left, currently don’t allow for that, especially not in public.
I think we should normalize questioning things and not completely dismiss, castigate, and silence people for not having the “right opinion.” I think a lot of people want to have nuanced discussion and debate these days, but the dynamics of social media (Twitter especially) and its amplification of the most extreme views and heated arguments also don’t reward that nuance.
Those dynamics have also spilled over into the real world.
Social media platforms incentivize hot, inflammatory takes that generate a lot of eyeballs, not thinking for yourself or questioning the validity of mainstream political or religious thought. Different communities and worlds have different norms around discourse, but I am just speaking as someone who occupies a lot of left-leaning spaces and with a lot of friends who are like myself — recent post-college graduates.
Until these dynamics die down, I’ll continue to be cautious, and maybe you should too
I am a teacher, and that means I can’t express every opinion I have. I can’t talk openly in a public forum about every experience I have. I have to be careful what I post on social media now and how that reflects on not only me but my institution (and because I write a lot about my experiences in the school system, I have to filter everything I write through a lens of “will this get me in trouble?”)
So far, I’ve succeeded in not getting in trouble for my writing at work.
I used to just write about or think about whatever I wanted. But because my writing had gotten me in trouble (not by my employer, but by friends who didn’t approve of what I believed and wrote), I’ve had to be more cautious.
But even for those of you who aren’t teachers, how the Internet and social media work makes it so everything you express and everything you post online is permanent. My views at 25 have changed significantly since I was 18 or 14. Yet you could go on my social media accounts from when I was 18 or 14 and think that’s what I believe now.
I’m not a very rigid person, and my views are constantly shifting, changing, and evolving. They are molded by the very diverse people I’m exposed to, my experiences, and my education.
And that’s not a very sexy thing to admit — what I think today might be vastly different from what I think a year from now.
Maybe I should just change who I surround myself with. Maybe I shouldn’t associate with people who will renounce their friendship with me if they find out I have the wrong opinion on an issue they really care about.
Or maybe, for now, I should be more like my friend, and swing further in the direction of caution. Maybe I shouldn’t have my cards so close to my chest, because honestly, what I believe is not the most important thing in the world.
As an educator, I’m in the business of empowering my students’ beliefs and exposing them to different arguments, counterarguments, and teaching them to debate. That’s how my district structures the English curriculum — so kids can learn how to write persuasively, and to have a reasoned and nuanced debate.
So why do I teach it, but not have enough courage to bring up counterarguments and have reasoned and nuanced debates about race, sexuality, gender, immigration, and an amalgam of other super sensitive issues in my daily life?
It’s because that’s not the way the world works right now. No one likes the “just to play devil’s advocate” person. The pendulum might swing back in a direction that does allow a more open exchange of ideas later on, but the shifting of norms around what’s acceptable discourse and what’s not is always messy.
For now, having some opinions in private might be the way to go.
—
This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.
***
You might also like these from The Good Men Project:
Join The Good Men Project as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: iStock.com