Homage to My Facebook Friends

Sometimes, Facebook is like a hammer blow to my hand that I can’t live without. I’ll explain.

If Abraham Lincoln lived today, I think he would be on Facebook.

Lincoln lived before public-opinion polls. He had to gather his information about what people were thinking in old-fashioned ways.

He read newspapers.

And he talked to people.

He lived in a time when a man or a woman of no fame could walk into the White House and demand an audience with the President – and get it. He lived in a time when the President walked the streets. In fact, people felt so comfortable with Lincoln that they would ask him for money. One day, he had to tell a man that he couldn’t give him money, because he had given away all the money that he had started out with.

So Lincoln as president lived among the people, and he knew about them firsthand.

I’m not exalted (and isolated) like the president of the United States. But we live in an atomized age. That is, I don’t think that people today join groups where they mix with people very different than themselves. People today are more socially self-contained. Our lives follow the rut of work, family, TV, and, increasingly, the internet. And friends tend to be like-minded. And the programming and websites that we choose tend to confirm our beliefs, instead of challenge them.

That’s not completely true of me. I sometimes go to a conservative church, and I suppose that most people there are politically conservative. (Can I generalize and say that conservatives make the best preachers? Maybe. But my exposure is limited.) And I have my newfound friends at the Masters swim meets – a diverse group.

But by and large I don’t have the wide access to people of different opinions that Lincoln and his generation had. That’s why I value Facebook.

On Facebook, I interact with people who have opinions that are stunningly different from mine. In fact, they have ideas about the world and reality that make it hard to believe that we live in the same neighborhood, city, state, or country. It’s almost like we come from parallel universes – theirs where Barack Obama is a secret Muslim; mine where he lives to make their lives better.

But it’s important for me to know their opinions. That’s true for a lot of reasons.

First, I grew up with many of these people. So they’re a permanent part of my life story, just like, in some way, I’m a permanent part of their life story. So to know what they’ve become and what they believe is to better know parts of the story of my own life.

Second, in this world, we share a common fate. If the country capsizes, it won’t be just Democrats or just Republicans who fall into the water. This is important because we live in perilous times. I don’t take for granted our continued prosperity, nor our continued freedom. I agree with those who sense a fragility in these things unrecognized by most people.

So I want to know my shipmates. I want to know who I depend upon to keep us afloat. I want to know who I’ll be treading water with if we capsize. To know who they are and what they think gives me a sense that I can see where the country is headed. This might be illusory. But it feels real.

Third, what my friends believe challenges my own beliefs. Reading the words of my Facebook friends makes me honestly ask: why do I believe the New York Times and not Fox News? I wouldn’t ask this if I didn’t have friends who gather their information and opinions from sources alien to me. It makes me put myself through a cognitive safety-check. That’s a good thing.

Fourth, there’s simple curiosity. Honestly, sometimes I read what my friends write, and it feels like I’m watching a small plane dive into a water tower. (They probably feel the same way about some of what I write.) But we humans have curiosity – even if sometimes it’s morbid curiosity. And sometimes it’s just interesting to know what other people think.

Fifth, politics makes me angry. I get frustrated by it. But knowing people who hold opinions that I hate reminds me that these opinions are held by people of good will. Of course, I believe that we all are innately evil – and I don’t except myself from that religious article of faith. But if the term "good" can be applied to the unrighteous hominids that we are, then I’m reassured that people who hold opinions very different from mine are "good" people. That keeps me from becoming a hater. That also is a good thing.

I’m grateful for the toleration of others. So far as I know, none of my Christian Facebook friends "un-friended" me after I wrote a blog called "When Christians are Assholes" and posted a link to it on Facebook. I’m sure that that wasn’t welcome on the Facebook news feeds of some of my friends.

This toleration gives scope to my opinions that otherwise I wouldn’t have.

By keeping me as a friend, my conservative friends show that they value some mix of the things I value about the diversity of Facebook opinions.

My Facebook friends might never make me believe that Obama is a secret Muslim. I might never make them believe that Obama lives to make their lives better. But their opinion is valuable to me exactly because it’s their opinion. I hope they value my opinion.