A Little on Tone Policing.

Tone policing is the term used for when an argument is rebutted by attacking its delivery style instead of its content. "Calm down, dear" is a form of tone policing. The reason that tone policing itself is so consistently flagged and criticised is because it is often used to derail an argument away from the points being made and towards the (technically irrelevant) tone of the critic. It's a frustrating tactic and often a cowardly method used by people who are happy to stoke the fire with pointed opinions but who cannot handle the inevitable flames. Most of the time tone policing is just a bad defence and, to the initiated, draws a spotlight of weakness upon those who use it.

Having said all that, tone is not always an entirely irrelevant part of an argument and whipping out the "tone police" objection at the first sniff of a tone-based argument may sometimes be hasty. When making or observing an argument, you need to consider what the objectives of the argument are and the environment of the argument.

(By the way, I'm using 'argument' in it broadest sense, be it a fierce disagreement or a more friendly debate or discussion.)

The environment of the argument is often where the fuzzy edges of the internet (where most arguing appears to take place these days) can make things confusing. In the real world (or the wonderful term 'meatspace'. I love how we've started to describe the real world with secondary terminology, like 'snail mail'), it's much easier to pitch your tone accordingly. If you're sitting across a table from someone to whom you strongly object it is unlikely you would put yourself with in inches of their face and start screaming at them. At least, I hope you wouldn't - this is pretty abusive behaviour. You are far more likely to scream and shout if you're arguing passionately to an audience, raising a rabble or leading a march. It's not uncommon for things to get enflamed even in a one-on-one debate, because you are performing for an audience and not scaring the shit out of just one person.

This is where consideration of the objectives come in: what are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to change the mind of the one person to whom you disagree, or do you just want them to know how angry you are? Are you trying to convince an audience (be it a readership or physical spectatorship)? As sound and valid as your argument may be, it is naive to think you can be as effective in all situations with the same tone. It just isn't the case. While it is perfectly valid to shoot down tone policing from an opponent who wants to derail your argument, I don't believe it is as valid to shoot down an ally who wishes to strengthen the effectiveness of your argument.

I think we're too quick to do that.

This thought vomit sprang out from a discussion about Caitlin Moran over twitter. In Moran's case, she has shown that she is unresponsive to any form of criticism, aggressive or measured. In this case, what do you do? I think we have to accept she's not going to listen to those who think her dangerously narrow form of feminist philosophy is all kinds of wrong, so there are two contructive things we can do. The first is to deconstruct her bullshit for everyone else who may have read her work, or heard of it. This will expand the knowledge and understanding of your common audience and hopefully prevent or innoculate people from her bad rhetoric. The second is to let her know you disagree with her, and why (even if she'll ignore you). This will remind her that she keeps saying disagreeable things which may (optimistically) make her think a little harder in future. Firing abuse at her is not particularly useful or productive and does little more than ease the burning anger a little. There's being aggressive, and there's being a dick.

Mum

Today is my mum's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mum.

It's curious with people like your parents, who you spend so much time with over the years, how many things float around unsaid. Sure, your parents say a lot of things to you - that's their job; they teach you about the world, show you when you've gone wrong, answer you're increasingly difficult to answer questions. But, at least in my case (I'm quite a quiet and reserved individual, despite what my online persona might betray), there hasn't really been a lot said in return. I don't tend to say what's on my mind, mostly because I assume that it's obvious already and saying obvious things like, 'gosh, it's hot', are reserved for people you don't know well enough to enjoy comfortable silences with.

My mum is awesome.

Most people who have met my mum know this. Certainly people I know that have been lucky enough to meet her have told me how awesome she is, as if I didn't know. I wonder if she knows.

My mum's youth is packed with enough stories to make a boxset of indie movies. I won't embarrass her by retelling them here, but you might not even believe some of them if I told you. I've still got my work cut out for me to catch up with all the adventuring she undertook by her mid twenties. Even the story of how my parents got together reads like a script for Only Fools and Horses. If you run into her you should buy her a (non-alcoholic) drink and ask her about it. She's quite the storyteller.

I said you might not believe some of the her stories, but that's not because she's lost any of that sparkle in her middle-age. Sure, my parents are at the end of their mortgage with a grown up son and have lived in the same house for 30 years. But have you seen my mum's jacket that's made entirely out of sequins? Have you seen her ever-growing collection of animated, musical teddies? Have you seen her cry with laughter at novelty pens? Have you been with her to see ever Harry Potter film on opening day? Have you seen her Christmas earrings that flash? You really should. Just don't ask her to tell her favourite joke. It's... it's terrible. She told it to my friends about 12 years ago and they still bring it up, shrug their shoulders and say, 'I don't get it,' and burst out laughing.

As a mother to me, she balanced being an adult and 'fun' with what seemed like very little effort at all, teaching me and guiding me but also just going out for frivolity's sake. In a way, our relationship has the same kind of structure as it always has - she's a mother and a friend. We still go out to the cinema together, cause it's nice to. But she's still and always has stupidly supportive of me, endlessly patient, kind, and genorous while standing firm when she thinks I need a kick up the arse, which I often do.

It's weird: I've known this about Mum forever, but haven't really said it, because it just seems obvious. But maybe it isn't. And even if it is, it probably still needs saying every so often.

By the way, my mum is alive. I know this reads a bit like a eulogy, now that I think about it, but then again, Mum always wanted to have her funeral before she died because she didn't want to miss it. You should totally come to my mum's funeral, by the way. She's got it all planned out, it's going to be amazing.

Anyway. Happy Birthday, Mum, was what I was trying to say.

Future is Meaningless

I was in Vue the other night (this is a cinema chain in the UK, and probably other places) where, before the film, they give us a little advertorial trailer thing about themselves, describing their super HD screens and Dolby megablasters as 'the future of cinema'.

This got me thinking about the overuse of the word 'future' in advertising. I get it: technology has moved beyond what you're used to and is now so amazing that it feels like you're in the future. Everything you were promised is now a reality. This is the future and it's happening now. But actually, apart from being overused to the point of making it a meaningless, clichéd buzzword, 'future' is a strange intangible concept.

You can never have future technology. Future technology is like 'tomorrow' and even little orphan Annie knew that tomorrow was always out of reach. Sure, that's what she loved about it, but Annie feared the future. She was a realist. Anyway, you know what you can have? Present technology.

If you think about it, Present Technology is the most advanced technology you can get. Anything less is Past Technology. Think about it. Now that we have self-driving cars, people-driven cars are so totally in the past man. GOD. Self-driving cars aren't the future. They are the present. In the future, cars will drive people (after the automobile revolution of 2021).

Now, I'm not just being pedantic. It's probably a better advertising technique, too. If they say 'this phone is the Future of phones', you might think, 'well, one day I'll be able to get that phone and I'll be awesome, but I'm happy to stay in the present. If, however, they say 'this phone is the Present of phones,' you'll think , 'shit, my phone is stuck in the Past! I have to keep up!'

We live in the Present. I want to buy stuff that occupies the same temporal location as me. You have to bring the Future to me in the Present. You have to tell me that hoverphones (previously in the Future) are now available in the Present. Then I will get one.