On the operation of blogs and the management of BBS forums, the most vexing problem is not that nobody reads, but that those who do read are often willing only to be “audience,” not to participate, and not even willing to leave a single word now and then (such as “great, upvote, dizzy, read, re, omg, orz,” etc.). But it is not that they are uninterested, or simply disdain it. In fact, many people come by frequently to have a look, and some of them will occasionally say “inspiring” (which, after all, is also a form of feedback, albeit an indirect one). But on the whole they are just too lazy to leave comments. The key point is that they never give targeted feedback according to the speaker’s rhythm—for instance, saying a timely “mm-hm” at the appropriate pause after someone has finished a certain passage.
I myself am precisely known for being “lazy.” But I think this laziness and that laziness are fundamentally different—I am simply too lazy to read other people’s blogs at all, whereas certain people do have the mind to read blogs, but are too lazy to leave comments; the nature of the thing is different.
Someone once said to me: “After all, your blog is not like other people’s; there are no narrative essays, only argumentative essays, so it is normal that there are fewer comments. After all, commenting on ideas requires caution.” This sounds quite right, and it accords perfectly with the attitude of responsibility toward writing that I have always emphasized.
However, this excuse avoids many problems. First of all, a comment does not necessarily mean that after reading you must come here and voice your own opinion; caution, humility, and an attitude of listening are of course all very good. But the question is, what kind of listening is truly responsible, polite, and humble? Does eavesdropping through a wall count as humble listening?
In real-world communication (by which I mean communication outside the internet), whether it is an equal dialogue, a discussion, an “above-to-below” lecture, or a “below-to-above” report, and so on, the best atmosphere requires some kind of good interaction. When the other side is speaking, it is best to keep one’s eyes on them and look engaged; if listening one-on-one, then at the appropriate moments saying “mm, ah, yes,” or at least nodding, frowning, and the like all count as feedback. If listening to a lecture, then applauding at the appropriate time. If there are questions, they should be raised without reservation; if there are no questions, one can still cheer, applaud, and so on.
These things are not for flattery or ingratiation, but out of etiquette; and etiquette comes from respect, respect comes from sincerity, and sincerity comes from what is natural and spontaneous. In face-to-face communication, you must participate in it; you must give feedback—looking is a form of feedback, and ignoring is also a form of feedback. But the problem is that certain new media technologies have fundamentally changed the mode of communication.
The emergence of writing made communication able to cross vast stretches of time and space. But it also meant that direct feedback was no longer possible. Yet out of respect and responsibility, intellectuals would still respond in different ways. For ancient classics, they could annotate them, explain them, transmit them; for colleagues in the scholarly world, they could exchange letters, cite one another in books, thank one another, criticize one another. If one truly only wanted to read and not speak, one could also make excerpts and notes; the “margin” of books exists precisely for this purpose.
But the appearance of television made everything terrible. In front of the television, the viewer becomes a mere “audience”—in communication, the “audience” loses all initiative except for changing channels, becoming “onlookers” who are willing and able only to passively receive. (In front of my blog, many people also seem to have already given up all initiative except deciding whether to look or not to look.)
This inertia of the “onlooker” has spread, so that even when watching certain serious things, people tend toward indifference—or else they find an excuse: “Precisely because the issue is relatively serious, one must be cautious and responsible, so one cannot speak carelessly.” If your excuse is that you are not interested in these issues, then that is easier to understand. But the problem is that some people claim they have gained “inspiration” from them; how is that to be understood? In a mode of communication that is indifferent and lacking in initiative, from where exactly can inspiration be obtained?
Imagine a person who, while listening, lets his gaze wander, is absent-minded, shows no sign of engagement, and cannot make appropriate feedback as the speech progresses—how could we believe that he has gained inspiration? If a reader finishes a book and does not mark, underline, or circle a single word, cannot even write a single impression, how could we believe that he has gained inspiration?
If my blog were all “narrative essays,” all casually written bits of everyday trivia, then there would indeed be no need for “feedback,” because reading such articles is like watching television: it is merely small talk rather than discussion, and one gains no “inspiration,” nor is one doing it to obtain anything. Communication is equal: if you gain nothing, then there is no need to give feedback; if you do benefit, then you ought to respond in some way. Moreover, only by giving feedback (by actively participating) is it possible to gain more from the exchange to a greater extent.
This is not only true of reading my blog; even when reading the great works of great philosophers, it is similar—or rather, in front of those great figures it is even more necessary for the reader to participate actively in the exchange. Some people say, “Ah, I am too weak, he is too strong; when looking at those great works, I can only gaze up at them with reverence and cannot say a word.” What I want to say is: humility is of course a good thing, and this is something I have always emphasized; however, humility does not mean indifference—if you cannot speak, at least you can underline a few sentences and draw a few circles, can’t you? I want to emphasize once again: “listening” does not mean refusing “feedback” or refusing “response.” The true expression of “listening” is to make appropriate feedback while following the speaker’s progress: nodding, smiling, applauding, frowning, questioning, asking—this is what listening is. It is absolutely not this kind of posture: in front of the speaker, covering your face and lying motionless on the table, pretending to be dead while eavesdropping.
February 21, 2008
最新评论
- mist
2008-02-24 00:53:11 Anonymous 124.17.16.240
I don’t care; I haven’t really been maintaining my blog anyway. Those who like to read can read, those who like to leave comments can leave comments—whatever.
- holy
2008-05-08 19:56:38 Anonymous 116.228.248.154
Hehe, I only recently started following your blog, and then I came across this post, and I am grateful for your instruction! So let me talk about my recent impressions of reading your posts. I found this place because I needed to write a thesis, and after searching I was very happy to encounter someone interested in philosophy of science and technology. At first glance at your thesis, I even thought you were a graduate student! Only later did I find out that you were, like me, an undergraduate, and at a university as formidable as Peking University at that—truly admirable. If I absolutely had to say something, I could only say this much; don’t think my compliments are too boring, because they are all sincere.
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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