ThinkBlog

I tend to take a similar tack to trying to post somewhat “anonymously,” (see the immediately preceding post) though for different reasons. I don’t blog about anything that I wouldn’t be willing to face the consequences for if it was read by potentially everyone. Don’t assume that means “I don’t mind facing the consequences,” because sometimes that could mean loss of friendship or employment and gain of enmity or spite; nobody just “doesn’t mind” facing these kinds of things except perhaps The Stranger thought experiment of Camus fame.

There are good reasons for both blogging intimately, passionately, and precisely; and for blogging, to an extent, anonymously. I will take them in turn; they play off of one another.

First, authenticity, insofar as we are able to give it, is of paramount importance, whether conveyed via blog or other means of communication. The accountability of having to say precisely what you mean, and (insofar as you have control over your own verbal clarity) not have someone misunderstand you, is an important factor often missing from even everyday life. I wrote my (offline) journal during my second and third years of high school with a specific demographic in mind: my friends most immediately, but ultimately, my children. So now I write in this blog, more or less, in much the same way: immediately, for my friends* and whomever feels like checking this admittedly often-prolix blog, but ultimately for my students.** Students? Yes: to commune with my fellows who enjoy engaging in the life of the mind; to edify fellows who Google for something and stumble across my page; and to inspire serious thought in those who may not have cogitated on something they might read here.

Not only friends and “students,” though, can see this; and so I also write it for my masters or, if you like, my “betters.” Being conscious of the fact that, whether you know whom or not, you have readers, is like the Jewish yarmulke: just as being constantly conscious of the glory of God makes us mindful of our moral actions, knowing that we have the more seasoned reading our words makes us consider it more carefully, that perhaps they may see our willingness to strive for understanding and may edify us in doing so.

Part of this ideal of precision in blogging extends from writing in any form, and that is that its telos, the end toward which all writing is directed, is communication. (You might say, self-expression, or some other such; but you and I would agree, for what is that but the desire to communicate?) As such, depending on our outlooks, we write for our chosen demographic, if you will, our “audience.” Those who write for their clique write colloquially; those who write for a potentially-global audience write both explicitly and precisely. This is largely, if not entirely, opinion, as is the idea that it is better to write in the latter way than the former.

Opinion notwithstanding, if you blog, you will have readers. (If you don’t want readers, keep a handwritten journal in your personal fireproof safe, or a text-only journal on your non-Internet-accessible computer locked in 2048-bit RSA or Rijndael cipher.) I unashamedly want to be heard, understood, communed with. Whether or not people comment on my posts, I write as though I have readers in potentially any country in the world for any given post. If I want to communicate, then, I need to use the best English I can, and not distorted with colloquialism, idiom, local jargon, or incorrect grammar and punctuation. (Not that it’s altogether wrong, bad, or even avoidable; but a good blog, I think, is not like a rap song, where the meaning is deliberately hidden behind hip-hop speech that can only be truly “felt” and “understood” by the initiate elite. This blog and, IMHO, no blog meant for public consumption, should ever be like a rap song.***)

But what it comes down to is the same reason for not gossiping, slandering, and all the rest: we have to be willing to be held accountable for what we have done and said. If my future boss Googles me and finds this blog and reads every single post, I want to be able to give an account for why I wrote what I did. If I am refused a position because I am a vocal Christian, or because I study philosophy, or because I enjoy the occasional cigar, or because I link to places my boss disagrees with, that’s acceptable, however much it may be to my displeasure, because it’s a matter of personal integrity. But if I am refused a position because I’m a hypocrite, a slanderous loudmouth, a backstabbing fairweather friend, a foul-mouthed jerk, or a libelous employee, that is justice: that is to my shame, and however much it may displease me, I must take responsibility for it.

For this reason, griping about work is to be kept, IMHO, between you, the Lord, and perhaps the lamppost (or your handwritten, safe-locked journal) if you really need someone to complain to. If you need to say something about illegal activities within the company, complain to management or the appropriate authorities. If you then cannot get it resolved, take it to a higher authority. If it goes to court and is officially a matter of public record, then blog about it. But spouting off about a personal issue or doing something on company time (or in company uniform or on company property) that is outside the scope of your job is asking for pain, and is ultimately stupid. Resolve it on a personal level first.

Secondly, discrimination is, to some degree, an inevitability. Even the strongest of us naturally make certain judgments in trying to get a foothold on what a person is like, how he or she “seems.” This does not necessarily mean, or immediately lead to, prejudice or stereotyping, although it can. Therefore, it is better, I think, to remain anonymous in some very important respects. In the case of a strictly personal blog, this might not be necessarily the case, but with something publicly accessible, anonymity is best. What I mean specifically by anonymity is, first and foremost, physical characteristics, including (in order of importance) pictures, age, height & weight, &c. I think nationality or ethnicity is, in most cases, either unavoidable (insofar as it might conflict with the accountability factor) or perhaps inconsequential.

I cringe every time I post anything that might give away my age or station in life for this reason. I don’t want to be discriminated against, but rather, to be heard. We might have something to say–we might well indeed, something important!–but if we convey our thoughts sloppily, we diminish the respect of our readers and, in many cases, convince them solely by means of carelessness that we are not worth listening to, because we have not exerted the discipline even to form coherent thoughts in language. (There is a time to be ambiguous and lofty; that is poetry, and it is prose that is meant to be read poetically. But the best poets know the rules of language so well that they transcend them by exerting their energies within their bounds and so paradoxically seem to break all the rules.) You can find my picture on some sites, of course, those friend-networking places and whatnot; but when it comes to communicating, that kind of thing too often detracts from the Real Point. Jesus “had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him”****; Socrates was remarkably ugly; Leibniz and Kant look ridiculous; Sartre, well, you get my point. (Whether I’m ugly as sin or not shouldn’t matter when it comes to what I have to say.)

Such are my thoughts on blogging. It is best to be authentic, real, honest, truthful, open, a teachable teacher via one’s blog; and it is also best to account for and short-circuit anything that might inhibit communication, including but not limited to things that could cause evitable prejudice or stereotyping.

Let me know what you think!

* To be quite honest, not many of my friends check this very regularly if at all, but then, we’re all busy these days. But what I think it really comes down to, if it’s not simply a matter of having time, is that my friends know me and my faults. Everything I say will necessarily be cast through the filter of whatever else they know about me. We might say, then (I wonder if this is your experience), that a man/teacher/person/friend is not without respect/readership/listeners except where he is known. But perhaps the joy of real friendship is that it keeps you from taking yourself too seriously.

** Anyone can be a student, at any age; but it requires honesty, and above all, humility. No one can teach you anything if you’re not teachable, i.e., if you think you have nothing to learn. I don’t purport to be “humble,” but insofar as it is a choice, I choose to be the student as often as I can exert my will to do so. I firmly believe that I am as much a student of the five year old child from whom I can (re)learn wonder and discovery of the now-seemingly-commonplace as I am a student of Jesus Christ and indeed of the learned masters of old, Plato through Kant and the rest.

*** My musical tastes notwithstanding.

**** Isaiah 53:2, New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society.

I tend to take a similar tack to trying to post somewhat “anonymously,” (see the immediately preceding post) though for different reasons. I don’t blog about anything that I wouldn’t be willing to face the consequences for if it was read by potentially everyone. Don’t assume that means “I don’t mind facing the consequences,” because sometimes that could mean loss of friendship or employment and gain of enmity or spite; nobody just “doesn’t mind” facing these kinds of things except perhaps The Stranger thought experiment of Camus fame.

There are good reasons for both blogging intimately, passionately, and precisely; and for blogging, to an extent, anonymously. I will take them in turn; they play off of one another.

First, authenticity, insofar as we are able to give it, is of paramount importance, whether conveyed via blog or other means of communication. The accountability of having to say precisely what you mean, and (insofar as you have control over your own verbal clarity) not have someone misunderstand you, is an important factor often missing from even everyday life. I wrote my (offline) journal during my second and third years of high school with a specific demographic in mind: my friends most immediately, but ultimately, my children. So now I write in this blog, more or less, in much the same way: immediately, for my friends* and whomever feels like checking this admittedly often-prolix blog, but ultimately for my students.** Students? Yes: to commune with my fellows who enjoy engaging in the life of the mind; to edify fellows who Google for something and stumble across my page; and to inspire serious thought in those who may not have cogitated on something they might read here.

Not only friends and “students,” though, can see this; and so I also write it for my masters or, if you like, my “betters.” Being conscious of the fact that, whether you know whom or not, you have readers, is like the Jewish yarmulke: just as being constantly conscious of the glory of God makes us mindful of our moral actions, knowing that we have the more seasoned reading our words makes us consider it more carefully, that perhaps they may see our willingness to strive for understanding and may edify us in doing so.

Part of this ideal of precision in blogging extends from writing in any form, and that is that its telos, the end toward which all writing is directed, is communication. (You might say, self-expression, or some other such; but you and I would agree, for what is that but the desire to communicate?) As such, depending on our outlooks, we write for our chosen demographic, if you will, our “audience.” Those who write for their clique write colloquially; those who write for a potentially-global audience write both explicitly and precisely. This is largely, if not entirely, opinion, as is the idea that it is better to write in the latter way than the former.

Opinion notwithstanding, if you blog, you will have readers. (If you don’t want readers, keep a handwritten journal in your personal fireproof safe, or a text-only journal on your non-Internet-accessible computer locked in 2048-bit RSA or Rijndael cipher.) I unashamedly want to be heard, understood, communed with. Whether or not people comment on my posts, I write as though I have readers in potentially any country in the world for any given post. If I want to communicate, then, I need to use the best English I can, and not distorted with colloquialism, idiom, local jargon, or incorrect grammar and punctuation. (Not that it’s altogether wrong, bad, or even avoidable; but a good blog, I think, is not like a rap song, where the meaning is deliberately hidden behind hip-hop speech that can only be truly “felt” and “understood” by the initiate elite. This blog and, IMHO, no blog meant for public consumption, should ever be like a rap song.***)

But what it comes down to is the same reason for not gossiping, slandering, and all the rest: we have to be willing to be held accountable for what we have done and said. If my future boss Googles me and finds this blog and reads every single post, I want to be able to give an account for why I wrote what I did. If I am refused a position because I am a vocal Christian, or because I study philosophy, or because I enjoy the occasional cigar, or because I link to places my boss disagrees with, that’s acceptable, however much it may be to my displeasure, because it’s a matter of personal integrity. But if I am refused a position because I’m a hypocrite, a slanderous loudmouth, a backstabbing fairweather friend, a foul-mouthed jerk, or a libelous employee, that is justice: that is to my shame, and however much it may displease me, I must take responsibility for it.

For this reason, griping about work is to be kept, IMHO, between you, the Lord, and perhaps the lamppost (or your handwritten, safe-locked journal) if you really need someone to complain to. If you need to say something about illegal activities within the company, complain to management or the appropriate authorities. If you then cannot get it resolved, take it to a higher authority. If it goes to court and is officially a matter of public record, then blog about it. But spouting off about a personal issue or doing something on company time (or in company uniform or on company property) that is outside the scope of your job is asking for pain, and is ultimately stupid. Resolve it on a personal level first.

Secondly, discrimination is, to some degree, an inevitability. Even the strongest of us naturally make certain judgments in trying to get a foothold on what a person is like, how he or she “seems.” This does not necessarily mean, or immediately lead to, prejudice or stereotyping, although it can. Therefore, it is better, I think, to remain anonymous in some very important respects. In the case of a strictly personal blog, this might not be necessarily the case, but with something publicly accessible, anonymity is best. What I mean specifically by anonymity is, first and foremost, physical characteristics, including (in order of importance) pictures, age, height & weight, &c. I think nationality or ethnicity is, in most cases, either unavoidable (insofar as it might conflict with the accountability factor) or perhaps inconsequential.

I cringe every time I post anything that might give away my age or station in life for this reason. I don’t want to be discriminated against, but rather, to be heard. We might have something to say–we might well indeed, something important!–but if we convey our thoughts sloppily, we diminish the respect of our readers and, in many cases, convince them solely by means of carelessness that we are not worth listening to, because we have not exerted the discipline even to form coherent thoughts in language. (There is a time to be ambiguous and lofty; that is poetry, and it is prose that is meant to be read poetically. But the best poets know the rules of language so well that they transcend them by exerting their energies within their bounds and so paradoxically seem to break all the rules.) You can find my picture on some sites, of course, those friend-networking places and whatnot; but when it comes to communicating, that kind of thing too often detracts from the Real Point. Jesus “had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him”****; Socrates was remarkably ugly; Leibniz and Kant look ridiculous; Sartre, well, you get my point. (Whether I’m ugly as sin or not shouldn’t matter when it comes to what I have to say.)

Such are my thoughts on blogging. It is best to be authentic, real, honest, truthful, open, a teachable teacher via one’s blog; and it is also best to account for and short-circuit anything that might inhibit communication, including but not limited to things that could cause evitable prejudice or stereotyping.

Let me know what you think!

* To be quite honest, not many of my friends check this very regularly if at all, but then, we’re all busy these days. But what I think it really comes down to, if it’s not simply a matter of having time, is that my friends know me and my faults. Everything I say will necessarily be cast through the filter of whatever else they know about me. We might say, then (I wonder if this is your experience), that a man/teacher/person/friend is not without respect/readership/listeners except where he is known. But perhaps the joy of real friendship is that it keeps you from taking yourself too seriously.

** Anyone can be a student, at any age; but it requires honesty, and above all, humility. No one can teach you anything if you’re not teachable, i.e., if you think you have nothing to learn. I don’t purport to be “humble,” but insofar as it is a choice, I choose to be the student as often as I can exert my will to do so. I firmly believe that I am as much a student of the five year old child from whom I can (re)learn wonder and discovery of the now-seemingly-commonplace as I am a student of Jesus Christ and indeed of the learned masters of old, Plato through Kant and the rest.

*** My musical tastes notwithstanding.

**** Isaiah 53:2, New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society.