Have you’ve noticed an uptick in disrespectful behavior lately? Pressures of isolation imposed by the pandemic demanded that we change how we respond to one another. Fewer face-to-face relations coupled with mask-wearing and increased Facetime, Skype, Zoom, and other digital screen messaging have resulted in life-changing and unhealthful social distancing, which leads to self-centered behavior, which finally leads to frustration and anti-social acting out. The internet culture has long been infested with trolls, and they have divided their forces between the World Wide Web and us here in this actual world. Most post-pandemic conduct has yet to recover.
In the past, my glib response and private joke to any situation that I found unpleasant was, “This is an outrage!” If I had to stand too long in the checkout line at the grocery store, if the neighbor started his noisy leaf blower at dinnertime, if some telemarketer called shortly after my neighbor’s leaf blower ruined the quiet of the evening, if that woman standing in front of the cheese section at Trader Joe’s refused to move until she touched every package within reach—that was when I said, sotto voce, to no one in particular, “This is an outrage!” While I tried to make light of the situation, part of me felt a twinge of outrage.
Why is everyone so rude? For all that, why am I rude? What’s going on? In my view, rudeness is a societal malady that spreads from one person to another like a common cold. Rudeness begets rudeness. Say, you find yourself in a movie theater, and someone in a row ahead starts talking on a cell phone half-way through the film. How rude! Which emboldens you to a rudeness of your own when you say, loudly, “Turn off that phone, buddy.” See? One rudeness begets another. If the contagion spreads, as it likely will, soon all those in the theater will be shouting and punching one another. How dare you? That’s the way rudeness works. Distress and insecurity usually figure into any significant display of rudeness. Honk your horn at that lady who struggles to cross the street even though the traffic light blinks ‘Wait.’ and she, frustrated and angry at her struggles, just may flip her middle finger at you. So you honk some more while she pounds on the hood of your car with her cane. Manners and courtesy be damned.
Ever since the pandemic picked up steam, people have been angry and feeling trapped, more so, it seems, than prior to the spread of the virus. You’ve probably noticed, haven’t you? Road rage incidents pop up daily on the evening news. In addition, the FAA recently sounded an alarm about air rage. Airline passengers have berated and assaulted flight attendants, creating an unfriendly mood at airports and on airplanes. Health-care workers, many of whom now carry personal safety alarms, must work around bad behavior as they care for their patients. Rage is on the rise. Political divisiveness has grown in mind-bogglingly degrees, and tribalism has become a clash between our group and your group in whatever context. Difficult times have caused anxieties. Russia, China, Trump, North Korea, COVID, inflation, crime, Putin, gas prices, job security, homelessness, empty shelves at the grocery store, mask mandates, war, climate change, violence, scams, political animus, mass shootings—so many stressors that one would have to be made of marble to avoid anxiety.
My lighthearted response about being outraged at every petty annoyance has been my isolated way to cope. But for many folks, outrage is a daily response to damn near every disappointment. How could they do this to me? Not again? Why, I never…. Why is that school bus not moving? Who dumped a car ashtray in front of my house? Not another telemarketer call. Goodness, look at this utility bill. I don’t understand why anyone would speak so vulgarly around young children. I am sick and tired of, well, of everyone being sick and tired.
It’s all an outrage!