When I was young—and yes, there was a time when I was—everything in my world was black and white. Every view I had, or cause I supported, was based on rock-solid certainties.
There were no grey areas or nuance. Anyone who disagreed with me was wrong, old, stupid or barking. Today, aged 62 (my birthday is August 13, so feel free to bombard the Irish News office with presents) my only certainty is death.
Every few weeks I visit a school somewhere to talk to A Level students about politics. Nearly every one of the pupils burns with certainty. That’s because they have the passion of youth—they still believe they can move mountains and topple every institution they don’t like. All of which is good. It’s the passion of the young which fuels change in society; the belief that just because something is presently being done one way doesn’t mean that it can’t be done another way. If it weren’t for that passion and self-belief from the young then nothing would change. It’s the young—spread over two generations as it happens—who have changed Ireland on issues like divorce, same-sex-marriage and abortion. They have helped to make it a more liberal, less stuffy, increasingly relaxed state.
But as I’ve got older I’ve realised that my old certainties have gone. I find myself thinking about the views of others in a way I wouldn’t have done in my late teens and twenties. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a pushover: but rather than simply ignoring or trying to demolish those with whom I differ, I find myself wondering why they think as they do. As Atticus Finch noted, it does no harm at all to put yourself in the other person’s shoes and have a look at yourself from his backyard. Believing that someone is always wrong and always will be wrong is the worst form of arrogance and stupidity.
I grew up in an era when it was considered perfectly acceptable to make fun of the Irish, homosexuals and coloured people on mainstream television. I remember the American Civil Rights Act of 1964. I remember a whole raft of changes in Northern Ireland. I remember the 1967 Abortion Act, the 1967 Sexual Offences Act (which decriminalised homosexual acts between two men aged 21 or over) and the 1968 Race Relations Act. And when I say I remember them, I mean that I remember the heat, passion and hostility generated by all of those pieces of legislation.
I also remember that the fiercest battles were between the young (who wanted change) and the old (who preferred the status quo ante): although it’s always worth bearing in mind that not every young voter was progressive, nor every old voter conservative.
I find, though, that in trying to see the world from the other person’s perspective (which I try to do in my columns and commentary) I get beaten up by both sides. When I point out that unionism has enormous challenges to face and needs to rethink and reinvent I’m accused by some unionists of being ‘Sinn Féin’s friend.’ (When I mentioned that the Irish News had offered me a weekly column a number of pro-loyalist sites on Facebook said that I was now ‘working for the enemy’.) When I point out that Sinn Féin is likely to be disappointed when it comes to Irish unity I’m accused by some republicans of being a ‘typical unionist’
One of my primary concerns about social media—particularly Twitter and Facebook—is the tendency for people to only listen (which means ‘follow’ and ‘like’) to people saying the same sort of thing. Huge audiences and constantly easier means of communications was, I think, meant to spread and stimulate debate: instead, it seems to be forcing people onto one side or the other on every issue and assuming themselves to be always right. There isn’t debate. There is simply mudslinging. No middle ground. No willingness to concede that maybe the other side has a valid point. And if someone does tweet that they’ve changed their mind on something, then they can be certain that the pack will descend to devour them and drive them into the void.
To be honest—and this, I hope, isn’t usually the case with my columns—I’m not quite sure what point I’m trying to make. Maybe it’s this: certainty at any age isn’t necessarily a good thing. Listen carefully to every argument and be willing to change your mind if the facts justify change. Debate isn’t about destroying the other side. It’s about a solution or accommodation that most of us can live with.
