Words ≠ Weapons

I scoffed when I recently saw a leaked FBI document listing imagery of the Betsy Ross flag as a call sign for extremist militia members. I think it’s actually a call sign for American history buffs and 10-years-old school children, but I digress. Reality is bleeding over into parody.

We’ve reached the point in society where debate is considered extremist activity. A disease that spurns the cure. It’s tragic.

In a 2017 New York Times article, Feldman Barrett suggests that hateful speech is so stressful that it should be prohibited because, as she reports, chronic stress can shrink your telomeres. However, she omits an important word. High levels of perceived stress are associated with the shortening of telomeres. You and I can interact under the same circumstances and perceive the stress of that experience differently. If I think that listening to a speaker is going to be intolerable and harmful, it stands to reason that my experience will be more stressful than for the person who tells themself it will be illuminating, or an opportunity to defeat a bad idea.

Speech may be upsetting, but that doesn’t make it violence. Disagreements may be uncomfortable, but discussion and compromise are foundational to a functioning society. There are two sides to every coin and, likewise, at least two opinions on any issue. I recently saw a Twitter thread asking, “on what policy do you agree with your opposite political party on?” and it was truly eye-opening. These shared beliefs, opinions, and strategies are often masked by a low-hanging cloud of hatred and resentment.

Equating speech with violence not only robs us of our understanding of ourselves as competent and civil human beings capable of defeating bad ideas with better ones, it gives us license to use physical violence in response to speech–or even in advance, as “self-defense.”

We have the choice to enter every conversation with either an open mind and willingness to consider an alternate view, or with defenses up under the belief that we are coming up against a violent enemy. If we place the locus of control externally, we are likely to blame the outcome on fate, luck, happenstance, or the “enemy.” If we place the locus of control internally, we are likely to believe our own actions determine the outcome–our patience and understanding can lead to truth, understanding, and common ground.

The media is weaponizing words. I can’t keep up with political correctness and I gave up trying years ago. That wielding of language is destroying us. There are two resounding echo chambers, growing ever louder and further apart.

If ancient upholstery cloth–a symbol of America’s founding–is considered extremist militia paraphernalia, what’s next?

It’s important to talk about the hard things, attempt to understand one another, and work through our differences. At our core, I think all humans want safety, security, affection, and to have our basic needs met. We’ve become so entangled with symbolism and meaning that, I think, many have forgotten that were aren’t all the different at all.