On December 1, 2015, a mass shooting occurred in San Bernardino, California. Typically, I would have been quick to say something on Facebook, but this time I waited. I saw that my liberal and conservative friends were talking past each other when debating the issue of gun control. I wondered why this was? So I conducted a small research project.
I waited for one week. I just watched and took notes on my newsfeed. Then I wrote up my observations. Bottom line: people were talking past one another largely due to the information they were consuming. They were using completely different sets of information, narrative, and even language to understand the situation. Later, the Wall Street Journal would provide some astounding confirmation of that initial observation.
That exercise set a new standard for me in my social media commentary: Wait a week or longer before posting anything related to a controversial public debate. Why?
What I learned is that the news cycle is not the full information cycle. Over time, more data and information becomes available. As the additional data emerges a fuller picture of an event or issue comes into focus, often contradicting initial opinions formed in the immediate aftermath of an event.
This is critical from a policy standpoint, because good policy should be based on as clear an understanding of a problem, its causes and effects, as possible. Rushes to judgment, however, can often create unanticipated side effects and exacerbate problems for having misunderstood an issue.
The Conversation after Parkland
In the case of the Parkland shooting on February 14 of this year, I’ve delayed for over a month, watching, reading and listening.
Bottom line: I’m observing the exact same trends in terms of communication and social media interactions.
People are still talking past each other, but there has been a huge twist: The constant stream of misunderstanding is creating harsher language patterns.
Two Weeks, Two Stories… One Policy?
As in my 2015 project, I kept track of the narrative following the tragic events in Parkland. Here’s a rough timeline I’ve set up so far based on news reports:
- February 14: The shooting occurs at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.
- February 17: Emma Gonzalez’s “BS Speech” at a rally goes viral.
- February 21: Student-led Tallahassee demonstration for gun control measures.
- February 22: CNN Townhall broadcast.
- February 23: New York Times and the Wall Street Journal release transcripts of calls to FBI tip hotline expressing concern over Nikolas Cruz’s intentions.
- February 24: Imagery surfaces of Broward County deputy not entering the building to confront the shooter.
- February 25: Jake Tapper interviews Broward County Sheriff Scott Israel.
- February 26: Local and federal law enforcement failures are known.
- March 1: Bill Maher interview with David Hogg and Cameron Kasky.
- March 14: National school walkout.
- March 18: 60 Minutes talks with Parkland survivors, including Hogg, Kasky and Gonzalez.
- March 19: David Hogg and Emma Gonzalez claim they’ve been threatened by the NRA in a news interview.
- March 24: March For Our Lives in DC to call for.
By the end of the second week there was a significant shift in the story. Did you see that?
What at first appeared to be a clear cut instance of easy access to guns leading to a mass shooting became a story of lax law enforcement plus access to guns.
However, the public policy debate did not change. Not one iota. To hear it reported, to see it discussed, the debate is still about guns and gun control, the villain is still the NRA. In fact, in none of the televised interviews with students in the month of March (the 60 Minutes piece is the longest I could find), did the issue of law enforcement failures even come up.
This is not to take away from the important policy debate about gun control, but let’s also acknowledge that crucial data is being ignored in the public conversation/debate that we’re having.
Ignoring crucial data in a policy debate creates confusion, poor reasoning, and ultimately fails to address problems while potentially causing new ones. But we still get sucked into the poor reasoning and emotionalism that characterizes debates on guns. Why?
Is it our polarized politics? Our hyper-connected, social media-driven lives? Our poor reasoning skills? I’m sure I can find advocates of all these explanations, but I think there’s a deeper cause that unites these questions as symptoms. It’s a cause that lies at the very base of culture, in the hardwiring of our society. It’s in our language, and I call it the “Rhetoric of Certainty.”
The Rhetoric of Certainty
Maybe I had an inkling of it in 2011 when I first saw Eli Pariser’s TedTalk on “filter bubbles.” Pariser introduced the idea that social media algorithms were homogenizing our news sources and creating information echo chambers on a mass scale.
In filter bubbles, we tend to take on the habits and manners of expression of the groups we are a part of. As we do, our perception of events and modes of communication will become narrowed to reflect only the viewpoints we consume.
Now put yourself in that space. If you are constantly reading and hearing the same thing day after day, and it was dominantly tailored to reflect your own likes, wouldn’t you feel pretty confident in your personal beliefs and opinions? Of course you would. That is the Rhetoric of Certainty in its earliest stages of growth.
From habits of thought, the Rhetoric of Certainty leads to habits of speech that express a settled confidence in your perspective as the right perspective. It assumes your information to be the best, most complete information. You hear the Rhetoric of Certainty in phrases like:
- “We are the experts”
- “Just do something”
- “We/I would have”
- “We/I will”
- “Never Again”
It is a rhetoric that uses a limited vocabulary, largely relying on universalist and exclusive frameworks and either/or dichotomies. What it lacks in linguistic depth, it makes up for through strong appeals to emotions and bias confirmation.
The appeal to pre-existing biases is particularly noticeable in the use of implied arguments and rhetorical questions as premises and conclusions. The Rhetoric of Certainty relies on such highly contextualized statements to get its point across. In a way, it allows for public statements with private meanings.
Perhaps it’s our way of sounding non-confrontational in a world where everything we say can and will be recorded and reported. We craft messages for our audiences’ ears alone, even though others are listening.
The downsides to this Rhetoric of Certainty are few, but sinister. The exclusionary nature of the message results in, at best, ignoring and, at worst, demonizing opposing viewpoints. This creates a reduced ability to empathetically listen to the “other.” Safely ensconced behind the comforting layers of filter bubbles and confirmation-bias, one can become moralistic and self-righteous in relationship to others. We may even make a meme about it. Questioning one’s in-group becomes unthinkable in such a context lest one be publicly shamed and excommunicated by the group’s puritanical elders.
Now, let me be clear, I’m not saying that someone cannot know something objectively, or should never use generalizations or universal language. Rather, I’m describing a rhetorical habit in which such language is the default setting. It renders aspirational, hyperbolic and predictive language perceptually concrete. Perceived threats become real, disagreements create enemies, speech is understood to be violence. Fear abounds.
Regaining a More Inclusive Public Discourse
Why should you care? Because one thing our polarized populace should be able to agree on is that the cumulative effects of such a linguistic turn are potentially devastating.
Divide the language and you divide the community and destroy trust. Diminish the language and you render citizens unable to effectively communicate, agree, or compromise. Disagree on what information is true and you cannot craft effective policy. Destroy the policy process and you ultimately destroy the rule of law and personal freedom.
Crafting shared meaning via conversation is an essential cultural and social activity. The Rhetoric of Certainty, by contrast, is a nihilistic use of language to justify one’s self at the expense of the community. That is something that should concern all of us.