The recent violence in Manipur is yet another example of the unravelling of the social fabric of our country. It seems as if we have descended into a state of constant, and worsening, conflict amongst ourselves. Indeed, the finance minister recently expressed her sadness about the lack of personal regard that politicians had for rivals despite having differences in opinion. She observed that even though earlier politicians used to have heated arguments, they were cordial with each other. Referring to an altercation which took place decades ago between two politicians who embraced competing political ideologies, she said that “however bitter they spoke in the Parliament, they had some kind of care or concern for one another… I can’t imagine giving a cup of coffee today to anybody saying it’s alright, you are speaking against me, come have coffee. This can be grossly misunderstood (now).” So true.
I think the minister’s anguish is shared by most of us. I remember a time not so long ago, when I could spend hours in meaningful and joyful conversations with a person who held divergent views on specific issues. Despite our differences, we could break bread together, slap each other’s back with affection, share our thoughts without hostility and, not infrequently, discover that we actually agreed on many things but only saw them through different prisms. These days, however, I have found myself drifting apart from those with whom I have an ideological difference, and even found myself harbouring a visceral dislike towards them. No longer are dinners with extended family members or friends relaxed affairs when diverse voices could be aired with abandon and where arguments were conducted in a respectful way, in an acknowledgement that our relationships were our most important asset. Nowadays, these suppers occur less frequently and, when they do, there are hidden rules which none of us wants to break for fear of the argument morphing into barbs and insults.
The worst offenders of the rules of civility, no doubt, are our political class, exemplified by the recent election campaign in Karnataka with scarcely a morning going by when we did not have to endure yet another poisonous exchange between our political leaders. Even though India has always had a fractious and argumentative polity, I can’t recall such a sustained period when such intense hostility poisoned the bonds which have held us together as a diverse nation. How did we land up in this situation? Perhaps it is sobering that people are asking the same question in other countries too.
In the US, for example, I hear exactly the same melancholic refrain, nostalgic for the days when dissent was considered an essential feature of society and disagreements would not mutate into a hatred for the person or groups which embraced views we did not like or accept.
The word “polarisation” has become one of the most frequently used in recent times across the world. This must indicate that something which is happening globally is playing a key role in fueling its metastasis. Is it just a coincidence that polarisation has accelerated at lightning speed since the advent of the smartphone and social media? I think not. While smartphones have allowed a person to be hooked into the online world at any and all times, social media has drowned the person in a virtual echo-chamber where ideas, lies and hate proliferate and get transmitted instantaneously. Our disagreements about ideas rapidly spiral into a hardening of our attitudes towards the person or the groups they belong to, and as the hate is reciprocated, the two sides move further apart, ultimately leading to the heart of darkness when words escalate into actual violence. Indeed, isn’t this why the internet is typically shut down at the first hint of civil strife, as in Manipur?
Social media has not only fueled the spread of hate but also desensitised us from its effects. I cannot imagine the kind of vitriol being poured into personal attacks in the days gone by, perhaps because our targets were not conflated with their beliefs and we were conscious that they were people with feelings, just like us. Back then, a common medium to express a critique was to write a letter, a process which took time which typically meant a person could reflect on what they had written, often leading to a moderation of language. Besides, one never shared this letter with an amorphous community of persons whom one barely knew or had little affinity. Social media has not only contributed to the dumbing down of public discourse, but many commentators have pointed out that it also represents an existential threat to democracy, for democracy requires dialogue and respect to build consensus and compromise on contentious issues.
Moreover, social media has amplified the most unpleasant aspects of human personality: Our tendency to be narcissist, which is to say, thinking of our own opinions as the most important of all, and to be sociopathic, which is to say that one couldn’t care less about the feelings of those we are intentionally hurting. The human brain which evolved gradually over millennia is wholly unprepared for the sudden and profound effects that social media has had in replacing the real-world with a virtual one where authenticity and conversations have been swamped by fake personas and telegraphic text. This is one reason why many fingers are pointing to social media as a major contributor to the youth mental health crisis sweeping several countries. And the situation is about to get worse, if you can imagine a world when one can no longer be sure if the words you are reading or the videos you are watching were made by, or depict, real people? Welcome to the new age ushered by AI.
While I know my concerns are shared by many, we all feel trapped and hopeless as it appears that the genie is out of the bottle and there is no one trying to catch it. After all, the world’s richest companies have done little to control the misuse of their technologies while reaping unimaginable profits from selling our personal data, while governments continue to dither about what their response should be. But there is a citizen-led solution which we can adopt immediately and, if enough of us do so, the threat will diminish. I had misgivings about social media right from its inception which is why, despite the exhortations of my colleagues and watching some of them amass large “followings”, I resolutely refused to sign on. You can do the same, and this is especially true for young people who are the most prolific users, and potentially the most vulnerable victims, of social media.
So, start to wean yourself off the addictive tentacles of social media, one day at a time. And when you are ready to do so, delete your account altogether, replacing social media with social connectedness by opting for a world in which we cherish our interactions with real people, read newspapers with views from all sides of the political spectrum (such as this one!) and rebuild the social fabric of our society.
Vikram Patel is The Pershing Square Professor of Global Health at Harvard Medical School