Assumption of malevolence

Good

As I sat at a picnic table near the boardwalk along Lake Ontario, I watched parents pushing children in strollers, local residents walking dogs and chatting, and a squirrel accost me for my choice in sandwiches (seems he preferred nuts over chicken).

It wasn’t long, however, before the gentle peace of wind and waves was broken by an angry tone.

“Hey! Your dog left a package back here!” shouted a woman to people further along the boardwalk.

“Sorry?” came the gentle query.

“And let’s just say it’s a present I wouldn’t want to step in,” the angry woman shouted while mimicking the slide of sneaker on grass.

“He did?” the other woman questioned, turning back down the boardwalk.

“Yeah! You want to get back here and pick up after your dog,” the first woman barked. “It’s over there behind the bench.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see him do it.”

“Of course not! You were too busy talking to your friends,” the woman sniped as she stormed across the park to some other destination.

The dog owner reached the bench, and after a few moments of searching, bagged the offending substance and rejoined her friends.

Poop

I appreciate that dog dirt litters our parks and streets and beaches, and that the angry woman was fed up with this happening in her neighbourhood.

And based on the demeanour and response of the accused (woman, not the dog), I am confident that this was not a typical dump-and-run, but rather an innocent oversight.

Sadly, rather than assume any degree of innocence, the angry women immediately jumped to an assumption of malevolent or at least willful ignorance.

She could have approached dog owner calmly with “Excuse me, but your dog seems to have left something behind that you may not have seen.”

Instead, she attacked with a tone that suggested the dog owner herself left the steaming pile.

At least in North America, there seems to be a growing trend to assume malevolent intentions before acknowledging the possibility of innocent ignorance or unfortunate stupidity.

Are there malevolent self-centred people in the world? Certainly.

But should that be our default assumption about anyone who slights us or causes us discomfort?

If the answer is yes, then I want out of this society. It has become too angry for me and I have no desire to be victimized by it.

I wish both of the women in this story well.

Engage me, don’t yell at me

While on LinkedIn earlier today, an acquaintance posted the following image that has been circulating lately; an image humourously designed to explain social media.

Look at me!

Look at me!

What this also highlights, however, is our complete lack of understanding when it comes to social media…that it has to be social.

Well, it doesn’t have to be social. Plenty of examples on the Internet (probably some written by me) where an individual or company has used social media to scream out their own message, not bothering to wait for a response or worried whether they are engaging the individuals on the other end. Just one giant game of: Look at me! Aren’t I clever? Love me!

Again, I recognize my own culpability in this. I too can be accused of approaching social media like a dog barking at a window, with little or no concern about those at whom I am barking. I do my best to have a point and always enjoy engagement.

Social media should be about engaging and building a community of which you and I are just one member. It should be more about listening than talking. It’s about starting a conversation, not a speech.

Thus, I offer the following revision of the white board presentation above.

Look at us!

Look at us!

In social media, everyone can hear you scream…but how many of us are listening to what you are screaming?

(Of course, this could all be high-handed holier-than-thou BS…in which case, I expect you to hold me to account. Go ahead, prove me right!)