The Modern Strangling of Discourse
It is standing on the edge, leaning towards a mighty fall
Emotions are hitting the highest note, and hearts are pounding. It is a race to the bottom who will pick up the crown, dust it off, and place the shiny object on their head. By the look of it, civility has lost its name and meaning yet hides behind the curtains, waiting to reveal itself eagerly. Has discourse always been this contentious, or am I witnessing something of a new origin?
In the ancient world, there have been many forms of discourse. Some are quite foreign and detestable to modern sensibilities, such as facing the guillotine for uttering the wrong words or holding a dissenting view on a minor position. As fancy as that may sound, this happened in those times. Then, we had giant public areas in ancient Greece where debates and discussions were held for entertainment with drinks and parties, mostly to make good use of leisure time. This setup was also called a “symposium” or “symposia”. These are derived from the Greek words "syn" meaning together and "posis" meaning a drinking party. The symposium was not necessarily a place for ordinary strangers but for the big guns — the upper-class Greek citizens. Great minds from all walks of life participated, not limited to Plato, Aristophanes, and Socrates. Plato himself wrote a book titled “Symposium,” which documents some of the events that took place. The symposium was unique in its format; the participants did not aim to tear down their opposing side but were tasked with elevating the conversation. These intellectually fiery activities served as a wellspring of philosophy, drama, and literature for the Greeks. Some of these ideas have been catapulted onto the global frontiers, leaving a bright stain on many fields.
The symposium was a vibrant theatre where characters of different perspectives and ideas interplay. A subject is chosen for the occasion. Every person puts forth a unique, creative speech. The audience is delighted. Sheer dialectics are offered as objects of collision. Praises are heard. And for each person who holds high the golden cup filled with wine, another person bolsters the hand of that holder and lifts it higher. In Plato’s “Symposium,” we see all these details come to fruition. The subject at hand was to discuss about Love or Eros. The attendees at the roundtable were a sect of great thinkers. An event hosted by the poet, Agathon. Aristophanes, Socrates, and other usual suspects were there. As per the rules, each had their turn and was given a chance to polish the discourse with bouts of praise. Their words are often idiosyncratic and hit points on the nature and shiny parts of love. When it is all set and done, one takes a break to listen, and the next person has the opportunity to speak. This is not a lonesome one-man army activity. There is teamwork in the play no matter which side one is. All the participants are elevated together to the heavens in pursuit of greater understanding and pleasure. No one is thinking about winning the crown for that is worthless. Those little petty devices that disintegrate over time are forgotten. The task is exploring and elevating well-reasoned ideas, and the best ideas stick forever.
Our body, mind, and soul, are being weathered with uneasy storms, by the modern world. There seems to be no end to it. The information we have accumulated is so expansive. One can drown in it. Influences are thunderously striking from all sides, and trying to hold us hostage. The unceasing and restless mode of work. People are burdened by the hustle and bustle culture of work. Leisure time has become a nostalgic thing of the past. The prospect of having to stop for a second, and think about a thoughtful and enjoyable discourse with peers, loved ones, and some idiosyncratic strangers. What? I’m already extremely tired, and all the stress makes me fall apart into a million pieces. Sculpting a few words together and sharing them with others, as well as having a back-and-forth, is more than enough for me. Though the neck most likely won’t come under the knife in doing so, unlike in the past. This is the pitiful condition we are under. Of course, not all of us are. Some will figure out a way to crawl out of their embattled caves, the ones they were thrown into by someone or by virtue of their unforeseen existence or perhaps, thrown themselves into by their own volition. However, a significant portion of society is trapped under the hollow darkness. So significant enough, have been letting the cycle continue for the next generation and beyond. For those who escaped, there are happy and sad stories to tell on the way out.
There are a variety of conversations to have. Of different tastes but with the same ingredients in varying ratios. Sadness creates conversations. The caveat is that the words appear as flowers on barren grounds. The atmosphere is either dull or gloomy, nothing is ever bright. It is akin to conversing beside a graveyard but not in it. When in extreme limits, we are walking in the certified territory of the dead, carrying flowers and mourning over the loss of a loved one. A little bit of sadness is delightful for the sake of the conversation. If not done, it may appear disingenuous because the world is not always sunshine and rainbows. We may risk reflecting something that is not true.
In the era of the internet, a whole new genre of discourse is putting a dent on the stage: bloodsports. It may be as old as time. The idea is to tear each other apart ruthlessly, to drain blood, so to speak. It is a complete disaster, a dumpster fire of toxicity. It does the job of attaining likes, views, and shares. For this reason, it has become a monetizable pattern of conduct. No longer does one bump into genuine, good-faith debaters who prioritize understanding without preconceptions or ulterior motives. It seems for a few elect, tossing coins into the trevi fountain works. Miracles left all places to happen for them — somewhat a rarity. On the bright side, there are folks with strong takes, including weird ones. For the onlooker, it is entertaining to watch the participants run their mouths at each other as the air gradually gets heated and fiery. It is a good exhibition of both grinning and gnashing of teeth at certain times, all equally in a bad sense. Similarly, smiling and frowning all mean the same. It is part of the battle between colliding worlds.
The virtual world is a Wild West. Whoever sticks the spear into the opponent as fast as the fastest ticking hand on the clock, wins. With short clips and out-of-context sound bites, people are sawed into dust before they can utter a word. We watch the verbal wrestlers. We watch the mighty fall off the cliff. If entertainment is the only benefit other than truth temporarily shot to death from the get-go, let's still have the benefit over nothing, right?