Culture of Criticism

A recurring theme with inquiry partners in my philosophy practice is their desire to express their creativity more, which usually means putting something online. The resistance to freeing their creative life has a source: fear of criticism.

I don’t believe this fear is irrational. Instead, it is intuitively pointing toward the rite of passage that will occur when creating in front of others on the enmeshed shit show that is the internet. The following golden rule is a guarantee: those who create publicly will face the jealous wrath of cowards who lack such courage.

With enough time spent online, particularly in intellectual or political spaces, all of the following become possibilities: becoming a meme, being ridiculed as cringe, experiencing creepy stalking, receiving poor attempts at seduction, facing nasty insults, encountering judgement through the narrow worldviews of midwits, enduring audience capture, being parasocially projected upon, and being diagnosed with personality disorders by armchair psychiatrists.

It’s good to have conscious protocols to respond to “criticism” from anonymous commenters, keyboard warriors with no impulse control, and covert egoists parasitically siphoning attention from those who have creatively earned it. Responsive protocols can include having a private space to process emotional triggers, assess truth claims, sense intentions, make parasocial risk assessments, and determine if a response is justified, which usually no response is the best response.

In addition to such protocols, I recommend two things. Firstly, cultivate offline friends of virtue who are not shy about disagreeing and are lovingly critical of character and proposition. My experience in “The Club,” an underground debate club where week-by-week men aggressively and uncharitably yelled at each other, has shown me the beauty of being forcefully humbled by piercing criticism. However, being criticized by friends of virtue in a group that gamifies the devil’s advocacy is a different beast than being criticized by strangers on the internet who arrogantly present themselves as overseers of what is socially good and propositionally true.

The second thing is the establishment of a taxonomy of judgemental feedback. Many people are muddled with what criticism even means and proceed to weaponize an “online criticism fallacy”—those who choose not to respond to online criticism must be wrong, afraid of confrontation, or unduly sensitive to criticism. Those who use this fallacy want to force the hand of those they want attention from, attempting to leverage social shame by creating unfavorable impressions. The best way to avoid succumbing to this tactic is to understand clearly the different judgments one can receive online.

I’ll share my taxonomy, which may be useful for those called to express themselves online intellectually. I'll present seven kinds of judgemental feedback, with personal definitions; the first three are found in all online spaces, and the last four occur in the culture war. The first three:

1. Criticism: Passing judgment on another's fault. This judgment may involve propositions but typically centers on perceived character flaws.

2. Critique: A thorough judgement of one's propositions. 

3. Brickbat: Insults done in a mean-spirited way to hurt someone's feelings.

Good criticism and critique are needed, as they are the lifeblood of moral and intellectual progress. As my friend

Jonathan Moregård

rightfully argues, a “culture of criticism” should complement any boldness from a poetically attuned intellectual life mentioned in the previous entry. Such spaces will not be found on the sociopathic playground that is Web 2.0.

Additionally, brickbat in certain contexts can be prosocial. For example, masculine trash-talking serves as a “leveling mechanism” for the ever-present chimp politics that occur when heterosexual men with high testosterone socialize with one another. As

Slavoj Žižek

argues, insults can be an invitation to friendship, dropping any unnecessary rivalrous dynamics.

Naturally, navigating judgmental feedback becomes tricky within the culture war. In the next entry, for the first time, I’ll introduce the “Culture War 2x2,” along with recommendations on how to less foolishly respond.

Philosophical inquiry and journalling helps process fears of criticism. If you’d like to inquire with me, and sense into your creative projects and how to wisely position yourself online, you can schedule a call here and read more about my practice here. To join Collective Journalling, become a Less Foolish member and RSVP behind the paywall. You can also show support for my work by subscribing, sharing, or leaving a comment.

What is Collective Journalling? This communal practice happens via Zoom and is 90 mins, with check-ins in the chat at the beginning and an opportunity to connect with fellow journalers in breakout rooms at the end. You do not have to stay the whole time. If you are in an antisocial mood, you do not have to interact with anyone, yet you can still enjoy the coffee shop-esque communal vibe. The session concludes with an optional sharing of a passage in the chat. Most of the time is spent in silence together, individually inquiring about what matters most. A lovely group of people has formed around this practice. The practice occurs on weekdays @ 8 AM ET. RSVP link is behind the paywall.