I had pored over numerous resources about dog training, yet nothing seemed to do the trick. My pup, Bella, was anxious and uneasy, and after weeks of using the bathtub as her makeshift bathroom (which was quite clever, to be honest), I felt a wave of relief when she finally took me to one of those little tree pits lining NYC streets for a proper potty break. What I didn’t realize was that dog urine is harmful to soil and can kill off flowers and plants. Turns out, people really don’t appreciate having their greenery trampled by pups leaving toxic “gifts.” I learned this the hard way when a man on his way into his brownstone stopped to unleash a storm of fury on me.
“Are you kidding me? Get out of there! You know you can’t be in that tree pit! Take your dog out of there, you idiot!” (This was also when I discovered that those little plots are called “tree pits.”)
People tend to do this all the time: Instead of conveying a lesson, they leap straight to punishment. The man assumed I was willfully ignoring the rules, like a rebellious teenager, but he was mistaken. His aggressive approach only clouded his message—rather than feeling remorseful, I was tempted to leave a bag of flaming dog poop at his doorstep.
This happens frequently. Instead of teaching, individuals skip the important part and jump right to reprimanding. They tally up all the people they’ve previously yelled at and unleash their frustration on the next unsuspecting soul as if every new encounter were the same. Yet, the lesson never gets imparted. No one emerges wiser; they only receive a barrage of anger. Those on the receiving end know they are in the wrong, but they don’t understand how or why, leaving them bullied for their ignorance.
After several minutes of being verbally assaulted, the shock faded, and I realized we weren’t allowed in the tree pit. I looked at him and stated, “Oh, you’re one of those people.”
“Excuse me? One of those people? Who exactly are those people?” He advanced, clearly irate.
“The kind that shrinks the world with their anger instead of expanding it through discussion.”
“Shut up.”
“Exactly,” I replied, proud of myself yet trembling from the confrontation’s aftershocks.
This unprocessed anger is pervasive, often surfacing in online comment sections but now increasingly noticeable in articles themselves. Perhaps it’s always been there, and I’m just now tuning in. Writers often scold and patronize readers, presuming they should already know information they don’t—after all, that’s why they’re reading the article in the first place! The tone of moral superiority is growing louder and harder to ignore.
I get it: It’s maddening that in 2014 we were still fighting for rights that should be inherently ours. People face oppression every day simply for existing as non-white or non-male. Young black men are shot, women are assaulted, and these horrific acts often spring from fear and ignorance. Some individuals learn a different way of thinking because someone took the time to teach them. It’s our responsibility to educate those who are unaware, even if it’s disheartening that not everyone shares what we believe to be obvious truths. Once, we were also uninformed, and while we may not have acted violently in our ignorance, it’s important to recognize that someone had to guide us toward understanding right from wrong.
Sanctimony doesn’t drive change or empower others—it breeds more hostility. Scolding readers and filling journalism with accusatory language won’t create any meaningful change; it’s actually quite easy and simplistic, merely showcasing the writer’s inability to authentically connect with others. Hostility divides us, and when a journalist prioritizes tone over topic, readers end up recoiling from the writer’s self-righteousness, forming negative associations with both the writer and the publication for which they write. Journalists squander countless chances to foster change by choosing to rant instead of educate.
Anger is a passive, yet harmful, force. It masquerades as action, making it seem like it’s doing something productive. When I encounter articles saturated with combative language, I sense the writer is merely projecting their issues onto others rather than offering solutions. They inadvertently contribute to the very problem they’re decrying. This kind of journalism sets a poor example, perpetuating the idea that issues should remain unexplored and that readers should feel ashamed for not knowing what the journalist knows but refuses to share. These articles are simply campaigns fueled by unprocessed anger, harming society and exacerbating mental health struggles.
Getting angry is easy; grappling with complex and uncomfortable truths is the real challenge. We can’t chastise others for being fearful and lazy if we’re too afraid and lazy to articulate our perspective.
Trolling often occurs when writers, seeking conflict, lean on unrefined anger rather than thoughtful discourse. A small but growing number of online journalists adopt this approach to relieve their frustrations, but anger can be isolating and burdensome. Who wants to ally with someone always looking for a fight? The more we inform others, the less isolated we feel. One person protesting on the street might be seen as a lone nut; many people protesting together creates a powerful rally.
In summary, journalists fail when they let anger overshadow education, missing opportunities to foster understanding and connection. Hostility creates barriers, while thoughtful dialogue enriches our shared experiences. If you’re looking for more insights on home insemination, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.