We Need Adults on Social Media

"Clearly, Matt, you're a racist, white supremacist."

It wasn't so much the name-calling that bothered me; it was being likened to a KKK member in the broad daylight of social media that got under my skin.

My accuser was a veteran teacher who ironically spends her days preparing young people to enter the complex world in which we live. But in this virtual "classroom," the teacher resembled a six-year-old child not getting her way.

What had I done to deserve such a verbal punch to the gut? I had questioned her incendiary use of language aimed at our current president (a man who is certainly vulnerable to criticism on many levels) and those who voted for him. I made the erroneous assumption that this public professional was open to an actual discussion, and so I questioned her inflammatory rhetoric, which appeared to demean those with whom she disagrees politically. Her response was that I was clearly a racist, white supremacist.

I have no qualms with policy disagreements or the sharing of thoughtful concern; what gets me are the provocative statements and grotesque name-calling under the pretense of moral superiority. Such online demeanor is aimed to create the opposite of discourse--it's meant to demand silence. The more passionately we condemn people or ideas, the less likely others will be to counter our assertions, guaranteeing a pretend victory in our virtual enclaves.

My guess is that this teacher didn't realize how many of her friends would privately message me to share their disagreement with her conduct and thank me for standing up to her. I wish more of them had the courage to speak up when they witness such intimidation online, but trust me, if you conduct yourself like this individual, most of your friends are afraid to tell you how much they dislike it. Don't misinterpret their silence as agreement.

I wish this was an isolated case, but I recognize such visceral nearly every time I scroll down my Facebook feed, which is posted by people who actually think they are doing good. Beneath their self-righteousness is the childish urge to shame the opposition and cleanse the internet (and world) of divergent views. Their bumper stickers may warn others to "coexist," but they're deeply threatened by the diverse marketplace of ideas and respond to it with insecurity and intimidation. They manage tension in a way that is childish at best and or violent at worst.

I shutter at the example that many adults set for our children. We tell them to stay off their phones, but can't lift our faces from our own. We tell them to talk and play nice with others, but we fail to do so ourselves in cyberspace, hiding behind the impersonal shield of social media as we strip people of their dignity. Many "grown-ups" have nothing but vitriol for those who hold opposing views on issues like school shootings or racism--they just can't tolerate that! They know the right answers, and so the end (peace and harmony) justifies the means (attacking and shaming). They don't seem to notice their resemblance to history's most brutal dictators, who eagerly embraced intimidation to silence dissent. In short, social media has become a place where immature adults demand a better world by tearing it apart.

Our inner children come out online, and we must send them back to their rooms.

Think about it--why do troubled kids bring guns to school? Lack of gun laws? Maybe. Lack of armed security? Possibly. But such violence arises from a culture whose primary setting of interaction (social media) is saturated with anger. Set aside the violent TV shows, movies and video games that kids spend countless hours consuming. What are they seeing from us, their parents, pastors, and teachers? What example do they witness and ultimately imitate? Are we showing them how to solve problems in a non-coercive manner, which requires far more patience, humility, and hard work than lobbing rhetorical bombs? Are we teaching them to befriend and empathize with those who are different, rather than dehumanizing them to feel better about themselves?

School shootings are horrifying, and the troubled perpetrators are deeply sick and shamefully responsible. But they aren't operating in a vacuum. Such hateful rage is forged in the fires of a culture that demands immediate gratification and copes with conflict through coercion.

In the face of social problems, it's easy to picket, protest, and point fingers at some villainous bad guy. But let's face it--we live in the world that we have made, with all its beauty and bickering, and we mock the elected officials that we have elected. The digital age promises that you can fix your problems by downloading the newest app, but few issues in life can be resolved so readily. Kids are too often taught to label, marginalize and humiliate others, rather than to roll up their sleeves and engage in the arduous work of reconciliation. And sadly, their "teachers" are a generation of maladjusted adults who didn't grow up with social media but use it to bully others.

If culture is each of our responsibility, then so is the act of reshaping culture into a more gentle and compassionate place, which we do by honoring and understanding those with whom we disagree instead of slandering them.

Children are supposed to be maladjusted to the world in which we live. That's normal. Children call names, sing taunts, and gang up on the weak. It's the adults, who are supposed to have grown up by now, who must show kids how to work through conflict and pain. Grown-ups harness disagreement as an opportunity to develop relationships, influence others, and grow personally. And we need them desperately, both on social media and in the real world.

It's easy to impact the world by causing harm, but healing and improving our world takes a scarce resource, called maturity. And if our kids don't receive this gift from us, they may not find it at all.

Matthew M. Anderson is the author of Running Mate and The Marriage Plan. A speaker and leadership coach, Matt is the pastor of Surprise Church in Bismarck, ND, where he lives with his wife and three children. Learn more at MatthewManderson.com.