I see people who shouldn't talk to each other

The more time you spend on the internet, the more you realize that every type of person exists. Think of a political philosophy that's obviously made up and no one would actually sincerely believe… "children should all be switched from their current parents to a random new set of adult guardians when they turn 5". I bet there's someone who believes that sincerely. Given enough time and effort, you could find them.

I used to think that all my friends would inherently have to like each other if they ever met, because they're all objectively kind and cool people. I also used to think that any argument could be productive for the people involved as long as you were all engaging in good faith and able to well-articulate/narrow down to the cruxes of your disagreement (a massive idealization, but possible given the right amount of time and effort). The principle for that conclusion was largely similar — If people treat each other the right way, there is no reason they shouldn't be able to get something good and meaningful from each other.

But as I grow up, I'm starting to realize my former views are probably not a totally universal truth — There are some people who just shouldn't talk to each other… and that is okay.

The moment that made me realize I wanted to write about this was, as usual, another person who is probably far smarter than I am expressing it about a specific online controversy I had been… Vexed by? Captured by? Fallen into caring about?

99% of the discourse on here is just both sides becoming so legitimately triggered with every new interaction that it's completely pointless to expect anything to come from it but more anger and misery. genuinely hurts to watch

— rayne fisher-quann (@raynefq), October 23, 2022

I'm now realizing the tweet itself is quite context-free, which might be why it pushed me to generalize the principle in my mind, but the context it's referring to is Taylor Swift's 'Antihero' music video — Specifically the moment where she steps on a scale that says 'Fat'. I'm realizing, pretty ironically, that I haven't actually watched the video, so I'm going to take a break from writing to do that, feel free to do so as well.

Interestingly enough, that moment is no longer in the video! But you can definitely tell where it was cut from. Anyways, the point is this:

• Many fat people (many of them fans of Taylor) pointed out how hurtful it was to see an aspect of their identity nakedly portrayed as someone's worst fear, as if becoming like them is something that is normal to fear
• Many people who have or have had eating disorders, body image struggles, etc, pointed out that the portrayal of this fear exists in an artistic context, one in which a real person is portraying their real fears, not in an attempt to legitimize or gain approval for them, but to authentically portray a category of thoughts many people do have in ways that are harmful to themselves and others.

Clearly, both of these perspectives are, to use an often overused word, valid. By that I mean precisely that they can reasonably be expected to exist in well-intentioned people who have gone through difficult things in their life. In fact, they can be so reasonably expected to exist that I'm absolutely sure both of these perspectives exist simultaneously in many people. Quite obvious if you remember that many people with eating disorders are themselves fat. For those folks, coming to a synthesized "take" that allows these two perspectives to coexist may be necessary. Personally, I have for most of my life been quite small and skinny, but recently gained weight with the medication I'm on that helps with my fibromiyalgia pain. I've noticed how even a small amount of weight gain causes me to fear "becoming a fat person" (whatever that means), how others inevitably will notice and project their own fears about their own health and weight onto me (despite my own weight gain coming alongside a significantly higher ability to manage my pain and quality of life), and how that has all affected my relationship with my own body and with food (which has always been difficult and was by no means introduced by the weight gain, it had already been present during the times in my life when I was "underweight"). I am also… generally… a fan of Taylor's and her art. All that is to say, I do feel both of these perspectives "inside me" to some extent, and do feel a need to work out an agreement that lets them coexist. Here's mine, in best way I can describe it:

(A) Our society is fatphobic, and this directly causes harm to all of us, but it disproportionately harms people who inherently have larger body types, despite this being a completely morally neutral trait. We should acknowledge this harm and its disproportionate effects, but doing so doesn't mean we have to erase or ignore the harm caused to people with smaller body types – a part of liberation along this axis of oppression needs to be non-fat people honestly and transparently reckoning with their own internal relationship with fatness, and part of that process may be creating art in which the concept of fatness is represented negatively. However, the need for this type of expression does not preclude the potential for criticism of it — Consumers of art should be allowed to speak to how it affects them, even if the effect is negative and harmful — And this feedback should be taken seriously and incorporated into the art itself when possible. In this case, I'm glad that the entire cycle described by this process happened: the art was made, the criticism was heard, taken seriously, and incorporated back into the art itself.

Or, in even simpler terms,

(B) People need to be allowed to make art. People also need to be allowed to criticize art.

I want you to consider both (A) and (B) for a moment. Are they exactly the same conclusion? Do they express exactly the same point of view? Are they the same way of solving the "problem" as I described it? In my opinion they are not. Although they may both be pointing towards the same concept, a concept which synthesizes the conflicting, equally valid points of view in this controversy, one uses far more words, and more effort, to try and point with more clarity, more nuance, and more precision towards that concept. (Is (C) this piece? 🤷)

In other words, though they point to the same thing, they are not the same thing. Both are pointers. One is larger, more effortful to produce and more difficult to carry, and the other is lighter, simpler, easier to produce while maybe containing slightly less actual knowledge.

I'm getting far too abstract here, as people who love me will know I'm extremely prone to doing. What I'm trying to build towards is the conclusion that (A) and (B) are actually meaningfully different solutions to the same problem. (A) represents the product of a nuanced, thoughtful, effortful, probably emotionally difficult debate, either among two full people, or at least two equally real parts of one person. (B) represents a wise decision to abstain from such a debate, with faith that there may be knowledge to be gained from it, but that knowledge doesn't seem worth the struggle, at least for you, at least right now.

I can imagine two hypothetical, yet assuredly existing, people who are coming from opposite ends of this conflict — a Taylor fan who has been skinny all their life, but has continuously struggled to have a healthy relationship to their body and to food, who feels represented by this unflinching characterization of some of the most toxic, prejudicial and harmful thoughts one can have while still being a kind and well-meaning person — and then, someone who has never really been super into Taylor's music, has been lucky enough to have a healthy relationship with food and with their body, but who has been continually reminded of society's arbitrary and cruel distaste for people who look like them, who became aware that one of the most famous, attractive, and successful musicians in the world just announced through her art that one of her worst fears was looking like them. They get it, but it still hurts, and no one seems to believe they get it when they say it hurts, even though all they are saying is that it does hurt.

I can imagine those people talking to each other. I can love them both. They can both love themselves and love other people in the general, abstract way that kind people do. I believe they could get to (A), even (C), together, if they each gave enough time and effort and emotional resilience to the cause.

I sometimes catch myself in the assumption that knowledge is the only inherently good and meaningful thing worth pursuing. I don't know why my brain works this way, but it does, and it often causes me to reflexively prefer (A) over (B), and even (C) over (A) if that's an option.

But as I'm getting a little older and a little wiser, I'm coming to realize that (B) can really be the best solution. Sometimes.