From the Madcap Idealist: Civility Media

A feature of old-stick-in-the-mud-ism is to deplore what the world is coming to.


The world has come to social media. I don't deplore it. It's a wonderful thing, to join the ambient reality of another human being's experience of life, to have immediate access to their insights and perceptions, to invite them to join in yours. And I'm old enough to remember that prescient McLuhan phrase about a "global village." 


Here we are.


One small problem: We the villagers have lost sight of a community's dearest value and commodity. We've forgotten what it means to be civil.


We use social media as a hedge to hide behind, to launch commentary that exalts those who agree with us, and shames or excoriates those who do not. It's easy to search and find punditry and stats that support our opinions; much harder to convene opposing viewpoints and agendas, and discern common ground. 


Today, public discourse is more polarized and rancorous than most Baby Boomers have ever known, yet this democracy was based on our willingness and ability to hold public discourse, whether that occurred in a town square or a Facebook thread.


Without civility, we become not merely savage (eg, the bullying of bus monitor Karen Klein), but accepting of — and inured to — savagery. We adapt and learn to avoid those who disagree or challenge us, right when we could be learning from each other. We reTweet for respect because it's far easier to press the RT icon than to actually practice civility — day-to-day and face-to-face — with that colleague or neighbor who irks us because their beliefs run antithetical to our own.


Glibly we talk about love ("our hearts and prayers go out to..."), about coming together as an American family, and embrace each other at candelight vigils for the dead, but we won't afford each other the most common courtesies in the routine run of a day. (Or, as a friend of mine put it: "Given the guys I work with, sometimes it's like death by douchebag.")


Basic courtesy is a rational act of love — for yourself, your self-respect, as a functional villager. It's an act of love for your fellow villager, your family, your community. So while reTweeting for respect and sharing anti-violence memes on Facebook, why not ramp up a couple other actions?


Hold the door open for someone else. Give up your seat on the subway to someone who maybe needs it more. Don't walk away from the copier with the paper jam you just caused. React to inflammatory behaviors with restraint, not insult or denigration. Understand that someone who disagrees with your opinion likely has an intensely personal experience of the same issue — and that is worth respecting. Choose not to shun, goad, provoke, or even to raise your voice. Articulate your disagreement not with name-calling, but with facts, figures, compassion, and a desire to learn more. If you're active on social media, curate diverse points of view, not merely rallying those who agree with you. Become the example, because we really need good leaders right now.

It takes nothing to be kind. The alternative is far more costly: if July 20 in Aurora, Colorado, taught us anything, it's that the ultimate WMD may be a single human being, existing in isolation, fully alive only when online, twisted by rage and illness.

What Does It Take? (Part 2)

There’s no real secret formula to life but here are qualities I’ve observed in others I consider successful, as professionals and as human beings.

Practicing trust and humor is a good way to boost personal courage, especially during stressful episodes. Trust means readily showing others proof of your intent, your motives. Even saying “I’m still not sure what I want from the situation” is better than nothing.

Humor loosens up tense muscles, enables rapid learning, and makes it fun to collaborate over the most difficult tasks and situations.

Most of us practice the wrong sort of humor, however; rather than being situational, humor is used to poke fun at someone else. But charming people know the most engaging humor is self-deprecating. For example, have you ever noticed that very arrogant people have a weak sense of humor?

Be kind. This can be hard, especially if you work in a place where a good day is one long defensive play. But if you think a colleague really has it out for you, wait for a pattern to develop before you stage a pre-emptive strike against them. If you receive credit but know it was wholly a team effort, don’t be a credit hog: share it.

If you listen more than you speak, you’re probably doing a lot of things right.

Kindness is too often confused with permissiveness. To be kind is not to be soft and yielding, but — in tough situations — to be disciplined in communicating difficult concepts so that we don’t take down the other person’s dignity at the same time.

I knew a guy once who was brilliant—articulate, ambitious, driven. He aspired to be, and was, “first in everything,” winning industry award after award—until I heard his assistant mutter behind me, scoffing, “First in everything? Last in people’s hearts.”

Freshman Required Courses: Courtesy 101, Empathy 102, or You & Internet Law

(Sorry for the longer than usual post).

           

Maybe this is just me, but any time someone sets up a task force, I figure they’ve either got to appear like something’s happening, or they’re in a rush to get it to happen.

Such was the case at Rutgers University, when the suicide of freshman Tyler Clementi ignited a national—no, global—scrutiny of civility, bullying, and the ethics of the Millennial generation (of which my daughter is a member).

In their response, Rutgers set up their own Civility Project. Several universities have them: P.M. Forni, the guy heading up the Rutgers project, was key to the one at Johns Hopkins.

For about a week I tracked the commentary thread on a particularly inflammatory op-ed piece in Rutgers’ student-run paper, The Daily Targum, and it was anything but a civil discourse, with disagreements devolving to infantile profanity and name-calling (eg, "ur a d*#k"). But in this regard, the now-commonplace phenom of abusing those who disagree with us is not limited to Rutgers students or even Millennials, given how easy it is to fire off venom from the safe anonymity of one’s computer.

This year was interesting for me as a consultant, because more and more I’ve been asked to speak on the value of workplace civility—in one case, to a group with a notorious workplace bully in a position of power.

What does all this mean for the current American workplace?

• Schoolyard bullies generally evolve into workplace bullies. The nature of their victims changes, however. Whereas schoolyard bullies tend to pick on kids who seem vulnerable or different, workplace bullies target personable, competent, popular achievers—and usually drive real talent away from the organization.

• The inability of any generation to hold civil discourse means there’ll be more conflicts—especially at work, where process disagreements are bound to occur. It wasn’t just that the Targum commentary thread got ugly, but that both the comments and the op-ed piece were inarticulate. Aside from spelling and grammatical errors, the sentiments were badly expressed and seemed (un)hinged on the belief that disagreement was a green light for reality-TV-style flying off the handle. There are conflicts that clear the air, strengthen relationships, and fix process bugs: this type of disagreement is not that.

How you handle yourself in conflict is considered part of your skillset. If you can’t articulate yourself in written or spoken words when you have a serious point to make, how can you expect to advance in your profession?

• Very little has been said about the role of the bystander. All week, it’s haunted me that few ever speak up for the victims of bullying—very likely because school administrators and workplace leaders are so passive about addressing it, everyone fears retribution from the bully. And yet some change might begin if only two or three people stood up to the bully on the victim’s behalf and said, “Stop it. Just stop it. This is abuse. We’re colleagues, this is not acceptable, and if it happens again we will do something about it.”

Why do bullying and incivility continue? My gut tells me bullies will always be with us, in every generation, because there will always be weak, frightened, attention-seeking individuals who need that rush of power over someone else.

What can and should be changed are the way we respond to bullying and incivility, and the environmental variables that foster these terrible behaviors. Add in too, the manner and speed with which transgressions are addressed. (At this writing, Rutgers’ Civility Project is a two-year commitment, and a recent Targum poll posed the question, “Should the University implement safeguards against Internet abuse in residence halls?” . . . Hmm. You tell me if these are durable solutions.)

As for civility itself, that white tiger of human values, all I can say is that whether or not you enact a task force to restore it to your workplace, ultimately, inevitably, it boils down to one person and how you choose to respond, especially in the face of conflict and disagreement. And, like the white tiger, it's a beautiful thing when glimpsed and experienced.