argument – I'm Not Doctor Who

Second only to the patented “Everyone Is So Entitled These Days And Should Just Shut Up” argument-defuser is the ever-faithful “Everyone Should Realise That There Are Bigger Problems In The World And Should Just Shut Up” conversation-closer.

I shan’t get into the former here — everyone has talked it to death and should just shut up — but I feel I should address the latter, since I saw it come up on Twitter earlier today. (And, if you’re reading this and you know that you used it, fear not — this isn’t a personal attack on you by any means, just my own thoughts on that particular argument.)

The trouble with the “Everyone Should Realise That There Are Bigger Problems In The World And Should Just Shut Up” argument (hereafter referred to as ESRTTABPITWASJSU) is that it assumes that people who are commenting on or complaining about something are equating their personal reaction to something that is “close” or “important” to them with something that is unquestionably a Big Problem For The World.

This is not the case at all. Recent examples where the ESRTTABPITWASJSU argument has been applied include independent game developer Phil Fish‘s ill-advised admonishment of the entire Japanese game development community in a very public place (and subsequent beratement of those who criticised him on Twitter, culminating with him leaving the social network altogether); and public reaction to the Mass Effect 3 ending. I have no desire to beat those particular drums in any great detail for now, so let’s put the specifics aside for a moment.

Yes. There are bigger problems in the world than both of those things. There are people losing their homes and livelihoods to the economic crisis. There are people in the world with not enough food or water. There are places in the world where diseases go unchecked. There are countries that are ruled by people with only their own interests at heart, not those of their people. There are wars being fought in the name of… what? And there are people who get so passionate about their religious beliefs that they blow themselves up in the name of their god, usually killing many other people in the process.

These are big problems. They are fucked up, massive, humongous problems that we, as individuals, can do very little about. Sure, we can throw our money at charities and, if we’re feeling particularly activist-y, attempt to take some sort of action against. But realistically (or pessimistically, if you prefer) there is very little that Josephine McAveragepants can do about these things since she does not run a government and/or army and/or bank. The problems become so massive that they take on an unreal quality — they often feel like they take place in a parallel reality distant from our own.

This is why people prefer to turn their attentions to problems they feel they can solve, or that they feel they can at least have an impact on. They have every right to do that. They may often have selfish interests at heart, but recent examples of organised action aimed at these relatively minor issues have proven that it’s far from being isolated individuals shouting and screaming about Games for Windows Live in Dark Souls or whether the Mass Effect 3 ending constituted false advertising (apparently, according to one Better Business Bureau blogger anyway, it does, believe it or not) — these are groups of people who are prepared to stand up and be counted in order to tackle problems they feel like they can face.

It’s an idealistic, utopian vision to believe that people (read: the Internet) will rise up together and do something about the bigger problems in the world than the ones they have successfully tackled to date. Maybe it will happen one day. Maybe these small “victories” will give some people the confidence to try something bigger, a little piece at a time. Protesting, say, a war is a bigger deal than signing a petition against the ending for a video game. Some people may be scared to jump in at the deep end, particularly with the apparent risk to life and limb frequently presented by the media, so they take the “safe option”. They feel like their voice is being heard, but relating to an issue which is smaller, closer, more relatable.

The key thing, though, is that none of these people who are sweating the small stuff are saying that the issues they feel strongly about are more important than the Bad Shit Happening Everywhere Else In The World.

No-one is equating those things except, ironically, in many cases, those people making use of the ESRTTABPITWASJSU argument.

I hate arguing. In fact, I’d go further than that. I hate disagreeing. I have absolutely no doubt that this particular aspect of my personality is a side-effect of the social anxiety that I suffer from, but it sometimes makes discussions hard to participate in.

I’m fine with expressing my opinion and feel I can argue my viewpoint pretty convincingly in most instances — this blog is filled with numerous examples of that, as longtime readers will doubtless know. It’s in the things that happen after my opinion has been stated that things get a little trickier — namely, if someone comes along with a diametrically-opposed viewpoint and the willingness (and/or ability) to argue until they’re blue in the face about how much I’m wrong and how they’re absolutely right.

Most of the time, these disagreements don’t descend into “you’re an idiot”, but my discomfort with disagreeing makes me sometimes feel like it’s implied. I like to think that I go through life as a fairly likeable sort of chap and take great pains to try not to offend anyone (swearing and masturbating stickmen aside, obviously — I’m referring specifically to personal attacks here) so having someone disagree with me and argue their case in an impassioned manner is a frustrating, disquieting experience that often makes me wish I had kept my mouth shut in the first place.

Part of this is due to the fact that I tend to cycle negative experiences around and around inside my head involuntarily. Even a seemingly innocuous, irrelevant discussion that might have gotten a little bit heated somewhere along the way is enough to keep me awake at night sometimes — and those rare situations where someone is actually genuinely upset by something which has occurred? I can pretty much forget about remaining calm, instead preferring to stare into space, replaying the incident in my mind and wondering what could have happened if things went a little differently.

It can happen before time, too. If I know there’s some form of difficult conversation coming up, I’ll find myself role-playing it in my head, imagining what might happen. Inevitably my mental conversation has the worst possible outcome, usually descending into someone getting yelled at or thumped. This does at least make having the actual conversation pleasantly surprising almost without exception, since no-one ever gets thumped and hardly anyone ever gets yelled at.

I guess part of the frustration over all this is to do with power, or more specifically, a feeling of powerlessness. If you know (or at least believe) that your opinion on something is inherently sensible and others seem to think that you’re speaking gibberish, it’s disheartening — particularly if said opponents of your viewpoint are aggressive and stubborn in their dismissal of what you have to say. It’s particularly disappointing and upsetting when people whom you like and respect fall into this category, too.

Nine times out of ten, the argument just wasn’t worth having in the first place, too. So what I have taken to doing most of the time these days is just stepping back before jumping in to a debate, thinking “will this get heated? Is it worth potentially getting upset over?” and then — only then — making a decision on whether or not to proceed. In some cases, said decision leads to launching a discussion and dealing with the consequences. In others, it leads to walking away — deleting the unsent tweet, closing the comments section, biting my tongue. And in extreme cases, it leads to me feeling like the correct course of action is simply to remove myself from the situation in question and ensure it doesn’t arise again — online, that means unfriending, unfollowing and/or blocking people; offline… well, you just walk away and don’t look back.

Some people are built for arguing. I don’t think I’m one of them.