I’ve been spending a lot more time on Twitter
lately. I tend to get my daily news digest, the day’s hilarity and at times an
interesting article or two is thrown may way during the day. Perhaps the way a
lot gets said in a meagre 140 characters is what has kept me hooked for the
past few months. Today was no different. Following TED for a long time and
getting intrigued by the videos being tweeted, I decided it was time to
download the app on my phone rather than go through the drill of swiping
everything into my Flipboard magazine for later viewing. On a side note, I
ought to get some sponsorships for this post considering I’ve already mentioned
three online content portals in the first paragraph itself. Thirty eight new
videos uploaded on TED flashed before my eyes as I opened the application. The
first, a talk given by Monica Lewinsky. I must say it seemed intriguing, but I
still scrolled through. Haven’t been one for gossip or conspiracy theories. But
as I scrolled down to probably the fourth or fifth video on the list, the title
struck me again – ‘The Price of Shame’. Now this does not sound like a
political gimmick, a PR act nor did it appear to be a long-awaited confession
of shame. The ‘price’ of ‘shame’ – I do not know. I figured twenty two minutes would
not be a bad investment considering lunch was still a good half hour away. I
clicked on play and listened.
I must confess, there was this anticipation that
it’ll turn into a crib session where she’ll curse the world for making her life
hell. However, listening through the entire talk put a lot of things in
perspective. We wield a power whose strength we do not fully comprehend. Our
digital lives have transformed into something more than just an extension of
our being. The digital ‘us’ defines how we move and function in society, not
the other way around. We pacify our insatiable need to ‘fit in’ with a
conformist approach to be a part of the pack. To hunt is now the only way to
keep yourself from being hunted. We have evolved over thousands of years
suppressing our basic instinct to kill and eat as the most rudimentary
functions of life. Unfortunately, we have not realised that the destructive
mentality has underlined our behaviour to the point where it has become one of
the strongest unifying elements. We rejoice when a news anchor performs a
character assassination on national television, laud the efforts of a
rebellious mob that tries to take law into its own hands, make a hero out of a
keen observer who pointed out one cricket website’s plagiarism of another’s
commentary for a single ball leading to someone losing his job. Our personal
timelines read of unimportant dribble. To rake up a storm, people put up
messages in support of social outrage. Worth is measured in the number of likes
you get, the more you have, the stronger you’re supposed to feel. Nobody cares
about solutions, about application, understanding. It is all about broadcast.
How far can you yell? Message boards get created, ridiculing, shaming, booing.
Hand pick a few of this pack, question them, probe if they really understand
the gravity or the context of what is going on and they disappoint. Why then
this herd mentality?
Because we are too afraid to go at it alone. Let
me wait for some ruckus to brew and I can contribute. If so many people are
doing it, there must be some logic to it, maybe I too should be a part of it. A
tiger hunts alone, because he realises that the risk of going alone is his own,
the choice his own and the consequence his own to bear. Wolves hunt in packs,
for them the choice is never theirs so the consequences of their actions never
theirs to bear. We are a pack of wolves, gladly a part of the hunt, never
willing to be attributed for the kill. It is time we held ourselves accountable
and understood the gravity of our actions. To be compassionate once again, to
not judge so easily and above all to have our heart in the right place. It is
much easier to destroy than it is to build.
It is time to roar like a
tiger than to howl like a wolf.
