Fence Sitter
By A. R. Samson
Conversations often consist of an exchange of opinions. The more pleasant swap involves those who are on the same side of an issue. A personal perspective is solicited with little regard for: a) Expertise on the subject matter; b) Personal involvement in an issue; or c) Individual bias arising from kinship, organizational affinity, or political leanings. Any subject is fair game for anyone offering an opinion: please take a shot.
We bravely give an opinion whenever we are asked for one. It does not occur to us to give a forthright demurrer — “Sorry, I have no opinion on that subject.” We sail through uncharted waters and give our ideas regardless of their ability to weather a tempest of facts.
It is perhaps in preparation for this constant social quiz that we endeavor to keep ourselves informed. We see movies in a film festival to be able when asked to give our opinion — It’s a no-drama documentary on human trafficking with a weak plot and jerky camera angles; or — It’s aimed at the school homework market for obligatory history lessons on the Philippine religious movement.
Books, fortunately for the non-reader, are rarely subjects for soliciting informal views. Requests for literary opinions are infrequent in any social event, including book launches. An admission of not having read a particular book (or any book at all) is seldom a ground for social ostracism. (Who has time to read?) Besides, if the book has been made into a movie, there is always a safe comment — the book was better, even when one hadn’t even seen the movie.
The social sin is not being the last to know, but not having any opinion to offer.
It seems unforgivable not to have a view on front page news items. A subject that has people marching on the streets with placards demanding justice for the victim of fraternity hazing, road rage, or capital punishment without a trial requires not just an opinion, but a stand.
This expectation for personal opinions creates the market for professional opinion makers, who don’t necessarily undergo any accreditation process. In the case of the published observer and critic, being opinionated is a job description. Still, the dogmatic person, who does not even have to be a whiner, does not need a pulpit to preach from. He just has to wait for somebody to ask for his opinion. He has a point of view ready for any subject, except books.
Opinion mongers no longer need to research. They can write a journal of their activities in their blogs: what happened to me today which you should pay attention to. (Here’s a photo of my lunch.) A personal incident is a fit enough matter for comment, an opinion worth uploading. The coffee at a food chain they visit is the best in that mall. A new convenience store in the neighborhood carries their favorite ice cream flavor, avocado. They just got a poodle. These little items themselves try to solicit reactions — do you like it?
Opinions are what surveys are about. They gauge the popularity of politicians as well as preferences for shampoos. In this case, even those without opinions are tracked (don’t know).
It is a rare bird who does not have an opinion, or who keeps it to himself, even when asked, feeling unworthy of inflicting his views on others. Asked about his impression of anybody, such an unbiased individual will only shrug and talk instead about the décor of the restaurant. What is an opinion of a person, after all, but a judgment of his worth, or lack of it?
A personal view on an issue seldom provides new insights or an understanding of the complexity of an issue. Opinions are too quickly arrived at. They can simplify, even distort, reality. They also change depending on who one is talking with.
Another person’s opinion seldom counts, even if we appear to solicit it, unless, of course, it agrees with what we already believe. There’s no one more pleasant than somebody who nods at the opinions we spout. That is why in this era of fragmented media options, we choose to read or view the ones that appeal to our biases.
This echo chamber of opinions can also be called a comfort zone.
A. R. Samson is chair and CEO of Touch DDB.