Rules of Engagement on Facebook
Photo by Pixabay
I’ve only unfriended one person on Facebook since I joined it more than ten years ago and he had it coming. Before the last election Misguided Fool (not his real name) started posting a steady stream of mean-spirited phooey. I realize that one person’s phooey is another person’s entertainment but civilized people of all political persuasions should recognize mean when they see it.
I put up with Misguided’s venomous drivel for a long time because, not being especially Facebook savvy, I thought Mark Zuckerberg might send him a personal message saying, “Dorothy Rosby thinks you’re a dolt and she doesn’t want to be your Facebook friend anymore.”
But then one day, Misguided shared a doctored photo of a certain politician’s family member that was as idiotic as it was cruel. His comment was, “Photos don’t lie.”
That did it. I started typing. “Haven’t you ever heard of Photoshop? Maybe you should try it on your picture. You might even be able to look intelligent with enough Photoshopping”
Then I sat back, took a breath and deleted every word. And I’m glad I did. I see Misguided in the real world occasionally and it might be awkward if I’d told him on Facebook that he looks as witless as he apparently is. I unfriended him instead, but only after determining that Facebook wouldn’t tell him that I did it.
Unfortunately Misguided isn’t the only wackadoodle out there. Unless I take a hiatus from Facebook, I’ll have to continue dealing with others like him. More importantly, I’ll have to deal with myself. Facebook is just another battleground in that civil war that is modern politics. Militaries have rules of engagement, and in preparation for the battle, I’m sharing mine.
1) I will not indulge in Last Worditus. Last Worditus is what happens when we see a post from someone who is deluded, misinformed and as wrong as a tuxedo with tennis shoes, and we’re overcome with the urge to tell them so. I’ve been sucked in before. On more than one occasion, I’ve decided to make a witty, spontaneous response to someone’s obviously erroneous post. But it takes me a long time to sound witty and spontaneous. I carefully crafted my comment only to have them comment on my comment, apparently unconvinced. Also, apparently faster at being witty and spontaneous than I am. Then I commented, they commented and days passed with me looking at my phone every few minutes to comment on their latest comment.
2) I won’t believe everything I read on Facebook, even if I really want to, and sometimes I really do want to. But before I muck up the news feeds of people I care about with the latest chowderheaded thing some politician did or said, I’ll go to Snopes.com or one of the other debunkers/verifiers of internet rumors. And even if a sordid rumor is true, I still won’t share it. That’s what cable news is for.
3) I pledge to be respectful to all, even those I believe to be a few chads short of a full ballot. I’ll leave the name calling to politicians. This is not only polite, it’s practical. I’ve never been persuaded to change my mind by someone who called me names, so I imagine I’ll never change anyone else’s mind using that technique either, tempting as it may be.
4) I will never behave as badly as the people I think behave badly. There’s a race to the bottom on social media and, while I normally don’t do well in races, I think I could win this one if I choose to participate.
Two columnists I know, one from each side of the political aisle, have both told me that, based on feedback from their readers, the other side is obviously ruder. I would have made the following insightful comment to both of them, except I didn’t think of it in time: Well, duh. Of course the side that agrees with you is more polite—to you. They may not be so nice to someone they disagree with. If you doubt that, check out what they share on Facebook.