Post #54
March 2, 2022
Claire Bodanis
In the midst of conflict, and on the coincidence of blog day and Ash Wednesday, Claire reflects on a habit we might consider giving up for Lent.
‘If I’d made a howler in one of my posts, I’d want someone to tell me!’ shrieked self-righteousness. ‘Yes, but would I really want every follower of that generous commentator to be alerted to my mistake?’ replied good conscience. ‘In fact, wouldn’t I prefer a discreet personal email so I could correct it, with luck before anyone else noticed?’ ‘But I don’t know this person, so I can’t send a private message!’ howled self-justification.
As many of you know, particularly those who’ve been following the furore on LinkedIn over Professor Robert Eccles’s post about the International Sustainability Standards Board (ISSB) the other week, which prompted some quite unpleasant criticism of him personally, I am genuinely fearful of the individual and collective nastiness that we see so much of online. Why? Because of its potential to stifle truth and thus cause fundamental harm to society. A very vocal minority can silence reasonable, well-informed debate, since those who would otherwise take part in such debate stop doing so for fear of being the next target.
A bit of background. While I was off for half-term, Bob posted an article1 he’d written with a colleague in the Harvard Business Review on the hopes we all have for the ISSB to create the set of universal ESG reporting standards we reporting folk have all been clamouring for. A pretty benign subject one might think, but it prompted a wave of criticism such as I’ve never seen on LinkedIn, and which was so furious that it even became an article in the FT – ‘Sustainability schism raises questions for the ISSB’2. I responded by posting3 a call for ‘ecumenism over schism’, and a return to the civility I’d hitherto found on LinkedIn; the only social media platform, in fact, that I properly take part in, because it’s the only place I’ve found that one can debate substantive issues in a constructive way. Until that day, anyway.What worried me, as I noted in that post, was that the noise and argument might stop the nascent ISSB in its tracks before it had even been given a chance to achieve anything. But what encouraged me was that I received more requests to connect on the day of my post than I’ve ever had on a single day before; more reposts of my post; and even some personal messages from complete strangers saying how pleased they were that I’d written it. Why? Because it had encouraged them to re-engage in online public debate having hitherto been put off by the ranters.
Back to my ‘criterias’ moment. As my inner argument was raging, I realised that what had prompted my ‘helpful correction’ was not, in fact, a kind wish to help a fellow human being and promote the cause of good writing. Rather, it was the ignoble wish I’m sure all of us have felt on occasion to vent our irritation at someone else’s ignorance. To show that we know better. To show that we are, in fact, superior. Had I posted that ‘helpful correction’ for all to see, rather than finding a way of communicating it privately, I’d have been just the same as all those I criticise for ranting on the internet. Worse, in fact, because I’d have been using my professional skill as a writer to manipulate language, to vent my inner unkindness through words that masqueraded as constructive and supportive. What’s worse than nastiness online? Nastiness that hides itself under a cloak of civility.
Today, 2 March, is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. For Christians, as I’m sure you know, Lent is (supposed to be!) a time of self-reflection and spiritual discipline in the run-up to Easter, and many people – including plenty who aren’t religious – give up something. For me, it’s usually a toss-up between chocolate and booze, although this year, with Lent starting before we’ve got all the December year-end reports out of the way, I did wonder whether the Lord might give us corporate reporting folk special dispensation.
As I was wondering – chocolate/wine? Wine/chocolate? – a verse from Proverbs (15:1) came to mind: “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” And so I had my answer. For me, controlling what I eat is quite easy. Controlling what I say, particularly in the heat of the moment, is far harder. And frankly, who except me benefits if I give up chocolate or wine, or indeed anything else edible? But the world has far more wrath and anger than it needs, and way too many grievous words. If I can not only refrain from such words, but in doing so encourage even a few others online to do the same, then perhaps my spiritual discipline can achieve something a tad more useful than maintaining a trim waistline.
Pass the Lindt.
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If you’re interested, here are links to the posts and article:
1Bob’s original post. Plus a follow-up post he wrote in response to his critics on which I commented.
2You can read the FT post here – it seems to be available without firewall via the New York Ledger (ignore the hydrogen title and first article – it's the piece underneath you want).