Rule 2021: Cure for 2020
As horrible as 2020 was, we started 2021 in almost a worse position. The divide between people has grown beyond politics into distrust of even friends and family. I’ve seen families splinter, not because they disagree, but because they’ve forgotten how to disagree. The days of having a beer and agreeing to disagree are gone. Now, every issue is defining. How you feel about the former president, the new president, masks, vaccinations, and lockdowns puts you into a “camp.” And the way information flows now—customized to our own bias—means other viewpoints aren’t just dismissed, they’re shouted down before they’re even heard.
Why? I don’t think this comes down to one man, a disease, or a political party. The root cause is the way we live and communicate with one another.
When I was in high school—back in the prehistoric era, hanging out with Fred and Barney—we had disagreements too. Arguments took time to build and time to resolve. If I fought with my girlfriend, the earliest I could pick it back up was hours later on the kitchen phone. And that phone only stretched six feet from the avocado-green wall mount. Privacy was impossible, and conversations had limits.
That slowness mattered. Sometimes I had to wait until the next day, sometimes weeks. In the meantime, I talked to friends and family, got advice, and usually—about 24 hours later—it dawned on me that I was the asshole.
In college, communication slowed down even more. My girlfriend and I wrote letters or spoke once a week, because long-distance calls cost too much. Writing meant thinking. It meant tearing up drafts on the walk to the post office, deciding what I really wanted to say. Insults in writing were permanent, so I learned patience and reflection.
That’s the problem today: communication is too easy and too fast. Every thought can be broadcast not only to the person you’re arguing with, but to dozens—sometimes thousands—of people within seconds. We’ve been taught that every feeling deserves to be heard. But just because you get 100 likes doesn’t make you Aristotle. Hell, it doesn’t even make you Lindsay Lohan. Thoughts aren’t valuable because they’re popular—they’re valuable when they’re reflective, empathetic, and real.
As I write this, it’s taken me three days, with edits and rewrites along the way. Changing my mind is part of the process. It’s healthy. We should allow ourselves to make mistakes and grow, not double down on our worst impulses.
Honestly, I can’t imagine what kind of bigger asshole I’d have become if Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram had been around when I was 19. The certainty with which I’d have spewed stupidity is frightening. Add a few dozen likes and comments egging me on, and I’d have built a fortress of ego instead of growing up.
Today, it feels like the world is run by 19-year-old Bobs with smartphones, validating each other through endless contests of outrage. Watching the protests and riots at the Capitol, I noticed not just the crowd but the glow of their phones—people live-streaming, podcasting, FaceTiming every unfiltered thought. And the media? Both sides turned what they saw into instant opinion pieces, crafted in about 35 seconds of thought. It’s no longer about being right or even being reflective. It’s about being popular, validated by likes, comments, and ratings.
We’ve become monkeys with guns—firing opinions without aim or thought for the consequences. What wins isn’t character, as Dr. King once dreamed, but follower counts.
So what’s the cure? I think it starts by slowing down communication—going back to that six-foot phone cord. Personally, I’ve begun taking social-media-free days. I’m aiming for “no cell phone Sundays” and other built-in breaks. I also follow a two-hour rule before responding to posts. If I still feel it’s worth saying after two hours, I give it two more. Most of the time, I let it go.
Yes, it’s ironic to express this through a blog. But unlike social media, this process forces me to pause and edit over days. Most of my drafts never get posted at all, which is probably for the best. Not every thought is worth sharing—and that’s the point.
I’ve also stopped watching CNN and FOX, turning instead to written reporting. Reading forces reflection, even when bias is present. It’s slower, and that’s the cure: slower communication, slower opinions, slower reactions.
So here’s my challenge: try building in a pause. Take one day off social media. Wait two hours before responding. Write instead of posting. Reflect instead of reacting.
We need a way out of this madness. And maybe it starts by putting the guns down and letting the monkeys breathe.
Love, Dad