A surfeit of bad takes
Hello again friends, I’m Alan Henry, and welcome back to Productivity, Without Privilege, where look at me—look at me. I’m the captain now.
If you haven’t already, I am once again asking you to preorder my book, Seen, Heard, and Paid: The New Work Rules for the Marginalized. I had a wonderful (but also extremely overwhelming) meeting with my publisher about how we’re going to promote the book, so I’m probably going to be very busy soon! I’m excited! But also terrified! I’m a whirlwind of emotion. And speaking of which, I also have a Goodreads author profile now! I’d love it if you’d follow me over there, maybe add my book to your shelves? I appreciate you.
So let’s jump in today, shall we? This week I want to talk about something maybe not quite related to productivity, but something I still think is really important: Why you’re seeing so many bad opinions lately.
And by bad opinions, I mean why you’ve seen a trend in major publications’ op-ed pages to giving space to writers who are, generally, not representative of the publication’s newsroom or audience, to share some of the absolute worst takes imaginable. You’ve likely seen what I’m talking about. I did a quick thread about one last week, and even after that there was another terrible take by another well-paid columnist about the Covid-19 pandemic that I won’t abuse you by linking here. In both cases, the takes were bad, horribly bad, and generally the result of people sheltered enough by class and privilege that they’ve never once considered that their opinions may not be indicative of most peoples, or their own thoughts anything but original and inspired.
So here’s the problem: the usual reaction to stories like these is to try not to hate-read it, collectively dunk on it on social media, and then dismiss it as just another bad take, engineered to get clicks and drive traffic. That’s partially true, but I’ve been around long enough to notice there’s something a little more consistent about them. While yes, they’re definitely engineered to drive engagement, they’re also engineered to remind you that these people have the space to air these bad, generally ill-thought-out opinions, and you don’t. That they’re not only of a class of people with the privilege to be arguably bad people without consequences, but they get paid to be. And they get paid, on average, a lot.
They’re there to remind you that they get to make the rules and you don’t. That you’ll always, on some level, be on the outside of the club, looking in, that they get to define the status quo, regardless of how ridiculous their definition may be. Periodically I get a brief window into those worlds—the ones just apart from ours, where these people live, work, and play, and where they make their own rules and have no interest or obligation to obey the ones that control our lives. It’s not pretty.
They have a platform and a megaphone to air how terrible they are, but the rest of us will likely never have the same platform to discuss how we should be good to each other—and even if we did, it wouldn’t be interesting because it’s not the kind of thing you couldn't hear anywhere else. After all, encouraging empathy and compassion aren’t newsworthy, but telling someone they shouldn’t trust the CDC or those generations of cultures that ask you remove your shoes when you enter someone’s home are all wrong because I say so are guaranteed to be “buzzy” and “generate discourse.” See the issue?
That’s all bad enough, and explains the majority of these takes in isolation, but I beg you to look a little deeper and ask: Why are there so many of them right now? Why can’t I seem to get away from these people’s bad opinions?
Here’s why. The first thing you should understand is the history of opinion sections and op-ed pages. Usually editorials, written pieces with a point of view and a specific take, were written by journalists and newspaper employees—that’s where we get editorials from. Op-ed, or “opposite of editorials,” was originally the physical page in a newspaper opposite of those editorials, where, ignoring facts entirely, editors published the opinions of readers and other people unaffiliated with the paper who had thoughts on the news of the day. It’s also a relatively recent invention, only about 100 years old in its oldest form, and in its modern form that we all take for granted only about 50 years old, and started in, you guessed it, The New York Times.
Now who directs the shape and form of those editorial and opinion pages? Op-ed editors, of course, who are usually senior editors and shielded from both the wider effects of their work on the newsroom and from the actual effects of what they publish. But what they are responsible for is the success of the section and the direction of it, and I’ve noticed a strong trend in opinion pages away from partisan horse-racing (although that’s still there, it’s definitely shifted to political reporters, but that’s a whole other conversation…) and towards an “us” versus “them” mindset. This has been baking for a long time, but it’s really accelerated during the pandemic: we’ve seen more outlandish takes designed to drive engagement, sure, but we’ve also seen the overall vibe of opinion sections change from “here’s some thoughtful opinions on the news” to “I have a vested interest in this topic and let me explain to you why I’m right,” or worse, the more blatant “caring about other people and their lives is wrong.”
And that’s the big shift that I’m really really terrified of. In a world where we need to look out for each other and support each other, where now more than ever we have to take action on individual and systemic levels to make our lives and our world better, there’s a world of people who use their voices and platforms instead to tell us that they have no desire to do so, are only interested in looking out for themselves or people in the same narrow band of privilege as they’re in, and everyone else is simply unimportant at best or their lives have no value to them at worst.
So let’s back up quickly. I don’t think any (or many) individual writer thinks this way, but I guarantee that there are opinion section editors who see this dichotomy—“i care about us” versus “i care about me”—as the frontier social divide of the era. Even if it doesn’t have to be, even if arguably shouldn’t be, and even if it definitely shouldn’t get air blown into it.
Now, this isn’t a dig on opinionated journalism in general—lots of great journalists are out here doing what we like to call “movement journalism,” or journalism that’s rooted in reporting fact, speaking truth to power, and encouraging action in the service of its readers and communities. I am but a humble service journalist. To me, if your journalism doesn’t serve its reader or empower them to take action or take a stand, or even to be informed when such an opportunity to take action presents itself, then I ask you: Who are you actually writing for?
And I challenge you to think this way as well when you read the news, especially when you read opinion pieces, and when you see people dunking on the news on social media. Remember that dichotomy, and remember that, in some ways, it’s being engineered by people who have the privilege to never have to deal with the consequences of the poison they’re pouring into the well.
[Worth Reading]
These are the 5 biggest barriers for Black professionals, by Damali Petersen: This piece is incredible. Not only does Petersen explain each barrier in detail, but she also explains what allies and Black professionals can do to break those barriers down. For example, she goes into detail about how poor salary transparency holds workers of color back, something that we’ve actually discussed before, and she explains what you can do, whether you’re on the short end of this or not, to push back against it. (h/t to Lydia Kan for sending this to me!)
Empathy Rules, by Sherry Turkle: Speaking of situations where one group of people have to obey a certain set of rules while others operate on their own, this piece in Harvard Business Review explains exactly how an abundance of empathy can actually help us all navigate those situations, instead of succumbing to them.
An Afternoon in Harlem With the Wheelie Guys, by Paula Aceves: I’ve had this article up in a tab on my phone for months—since it was published, really, and partially because it’s about my neighborhood and partially because I love what it has to say about the city as a whole. But when the weather warms up, I’m hoping to hear these guys again.
[See You, Space Cowboy]
One day these recommendations will turn back to the useful and professional, but today is not that day. Mostly because I just discovered you can play Oregon Trail—yes, the original Oregon Trail—on the state of Oregon’s website.
Honestly, it’s pretty much the same as it ever was, but it’s still fun to revisit, and especially fun if you have some friends nearby to enter in as people on your wagon and play the game to see which of your roomies or family members die of dysentery first. What, you mean that’s not how everyone plays?
I’ll see you in two.