Critical Instinct

I watched a new writer be torn to shreds on the internet the other day. Not in real time, but the aftermath. They had published an entire book online and posted it both on a website and then linking to it through social media. Their initial post was in response to user reviews and asking that others not destroy the book without getting to a later chapter. The subsequent comments then attacked that sentiment pointing out the various flaws in that argument, too. Ouch. 

It's daunting to see that sort of response to what was clearly a love and a passion. Maybe this is something cultural. I wonder if people in other parts of the world are less harsh, or even more so and that is part of what led this person to submit themselves for critique. Or maybe it is universal: perhaps our sentience makes it too hard not to edit or criticize each other. Because we seem to do this naturally, and in an almost innate manner as if we have been doing this for long into our own history, way back to when we could first observe and reflect on the actions of others.

To be clear the criticism was correct: the person had written something far too hastily with perhaps no editing at all. That said, they stated clearly that they were writing in English as a second language. My feeling is that they will be all right since writing in another language takes a sort of courage in itself, let alone the strength to show someone else, and again to show total strangers. 

What interested me was the need to criticize without instruction. We seem to need to show others of their mistakes without a corresponding need to help correct them. Why is that? Is this a feature of our social nature -- a deep urge to establish our superiority to others we encounter? Is this why we make fun of each other without knowing the other person. Are we simply cruel because this is the nature of nature and we merely have means to express it outside of violence and intimidation? Or is it something else? 

The result of this is clear. Rather than speculate outside of my depth, it seems safer to simply leave it at the hypothetical question. This is an example of what it is meant to do: to keep us in line, to prevent us from straying too far from the unexpected. To do so, knowing that, feels horrible and makes me want to fight back and resist the pressure to conform. That's a reaction, too, though. It's hard to know when you are exerting free will or when you're just bouncing back and forth -- ping-ponging between various manipulators and unable to avoid falling exactly where they want you. Or one them anyway. 

What I think I'll do is go tell that mincemeat writer that I think they are brave and not to stop trying. I think they'll be fine without me saying so. Who am I, after all? But it feels better to tell them so and hopefully they will, too.