There’s been a lot of talk lately about anonymity in the blogosphere; some speculation about what motivates people to use a fake identity and a lot of judgment about those of us who do. There have also been a number of high profile campaigns to “out” some of the more perturbatious among us. Some of these campaigns have been motivated by malice and the desire to complicate or ruin an adversary’s “regular” life. Some have been the defensive reciprocal response to such a campaign, and some have been by sheer misadventure or accidental indiscretion.
Regardless of the motivation, I’ve never been a big fan of the sport of “outing” even the most pugnacious of trolls – not for a lack of curiosity, as much as a lack of will to devote my very precious time to the activity of ferreting out jerks who get their kicks from leaving steaming piles of turd on the internet. Although, I must confess, I have never been the subject of a campaign to maliciously expose me and my extended family to ridicule and attack for the offense of having caused offense to the wrong person. But I do understand the urge to defend one’s family against the possibility.
That is why I have chosen to remain relatively anonymous.
Not that it is a carefully guarded secret. I have attended many political functions and blog functions – all in my real name. I have also frequently corresponded with long time readers by email, often signing off with my real name and a few close ones have got my family picture as part of my Christmas greeting. A couple of blogging colleagues have my cellphone number and home address and one mysterious but tenacious little bugger managed to locate me on Facebook, for reasons I can only guess at.
Some secret identity, huh?
The simple truth is that even without these lapses in discretion, anonymity is not the force-field of cowardice as characterized by some. Each comment I post at another blog gets linked through my “fake” name to this blog and the posts in this blog reveal a more complete picture of who I am than the components of my proper name, or a search of public records, could ever provide. You readers, without the benefit of my real name, know more about me than most of my own family does. That is not a consequence of cowardice, but rather a product of comfort -- this is the medium I’ve chosen and these are the terms by which I share my life with you.
A few who pass harsh judgment on the pseudonymous offer some valid criticisms of a freedom – the freedom to be anonymous – that is often abused for the purposes of libel or spite. I do not disagree. But some have extended their criticisms into judgment of the courage or principles of all anonymous bloggers, as if they alone hold the courage of conviction by virtue of their willingness to stand by their words in the real world.
Ideally, I would agree. But the complicating factor, the one thing often missing from the dissection of motivations, is the concession that sometimes anonymous bloggers have more than just themselves to consider in their musings. Sometimes the urge to remain anonymous is not based on fear of reprisal to oneself, but rather concern for how that reprisal could be affected upon an innocent bystander – a peripheral victim of association.
I have 3 children and all of them go to school in this province. I have written many words critical of teachers and the education system in general. Would my courage of conviction offer my son solace if he was failed in a course because his unionized teacher didn’t appreciate my conservative sentiments on unions? Should he be expected to bear the brunt of retribution from an employer who associated my controversial views with his upbringing and concluded that he was unfit for employment? Would the publishing of my real name at the bottom of my posts defend my youngest children from teasing in the playground, because their mom occasionally posts a racy picture of herself on the internet?
And it’s not just my children to consider. I have 3 more who cycle through this household regularly, and on whose behalf I have no right to make such a decision. What consolation would I ever be able to offer my sweet Mikey, if something I said here were twisted and used against him in a way that interfered with his custody and access to his children? Would it matter to him that I had the courage to put my name to my convictions? Are they more deeply held by me, once the characters on my birth certificate are revealed with some super-secret special decoder ring?
I think it is laudable to take responsibility for your words and damn the consequences – but I also think it is an easier luxury for someone who only has to concern themselves with their own starving belly.
If I lose my job because my boss doesn’t like my opinion on immigration, it’s not just me who starves. There are 7 other people in my household and most of them don’t even understand what immigration policy is, much less whether my opinions have any merit.
I have a responsibility to offer at least a minor buffer between my need to vent and their need to be sheltered from the spiteful jerks out there who would use umbrage as an excuse to exact revenge through my family.
As it stands, I do not guard my identity as zealously as I probably should under the circumstances. But I have never made a secret of who I am or what I believe in. No friend, colleague or relative would be the slightest bit surprised of anything written here. It’s not a double life…just a means to keep the psychos at bay a little.
It’s not a choice that everyone makes. But then again, there are a lot of choices I make every day that many others don’t have to make – and live with the consequences of. That doesn’t make them better than me or me better than them. It just makes our lives, and the choices which affect them, different.
I challenge anyone to question my conviction to principle, regardless of the name I choose to write under.
