Social media and why perception is real

As the events of this past Wednesday in Washington, D.C. unfolded, my social media feed continually lit up throughout the day.

Often, the words included something along these lines, “If you are OK with what happened, unfriend me now.” I saw that time and time again. I also saw long posts from people reflecting on what happened, sharing their emotions and reactions in a raw and powerful way. Such is the advantage (or in some cases, the curse) of social media – its immediacy and the sense of connectiveness it offers.

How I wanted to weigh in with my own opinions. Of course, about the same time I received an email reminder in my work inbox about the company’s social media guidelines, which instruct working journalists to refrain “from using social media to take a political position, criticize or attack a candidate or express personal feelings about an outcome or ruling.”

It’s a wise policy and something I adopted personally a few years ago when I returned to journalism, which, admittedly, has changed a great deal since I originally left the business back in 2007. Objectivity is a precious commodity and one journalists should protect. If you’re using your Facebook page or Twitter feed to criticize candidates or policy positions, you’re going to have a hard time defending your impartiality in the stories you write.

Beyond that, I don't talk politics publicly because I'm also a part-time pastor. I know there are some who disagree, but I don't believe politics has a place in the pulpit. I encourage people to vote and participate in democracy, but that's it.

Finally, I try to remember that most people see one’s personal page as an extension of who they are professionally. They will read the thoughts expressed there as representative of the larger institutional voice. It comes with the territory.

That may not matter to some who call themselves journalists. They don’t mind jumping in the fray with both feet, telling people exactly what they think about an issue or a person, including, in many cases, a person they report on. There are those who see this as their duty. In fact, we now have a practice that has been coined as “resistance journalism,” where the media can ignore traditional practices and push unvetted, often unsourced, material into the public sphere so long as the subject of the report is someone immensely disliked. Digging deeper into the contours of resistance journalism is a column for another day.

This is the fast track to self-inflicted eroding media credibility. How we personally feel about someone or something should not be detectable in what we write/report. Obviously, I’m talking about news reporting, not opinion writing. The two should be separate, but I’d be the first to admit the line is becoming steadily blurred – in some ways because that’s what a certain audience segment wants and rewards. I’m not saying that’s bad or good, just that it’s the reality of the day and not likely to change in the near term.

As a result, my Facebook page isn’t really jazzy. I share quotations, scriptures and personal/family milestones. I’m certain there are those who might look at the page trying to find bias or some inkling of preference that informs these opinion pages, but they will be disappointed.

What you will see there is often what you see here – a fidelity to encouragement, compassion, kindness and optimism. Those are usually things (most) people can get behind. Those are the kinds of stories I share, not just because of the job I’m privileged to hold here, but also because what I say on social media will be seen by family, friends, congregation members, fellow pastors and others.

Perception matters, and if it matters to me, then it matters to readers. Consequently, if you want to know how I feel about something, your best bet will be looking at this space most Sunday mornings. I would also hasten to point out I try to be choosy about the issues I wade into. Possibly the best piece of advice I received this past week went something like this: “Just because you’re invited to an argument doesn’t mean you have to show up.”

It is a challenging time in the opinion business. I don’t necessarily write to persuade and convince. My hope, most times realized, is to inform. Just about everyone who picks up a newspaper or clicks on the web already has their mind made up.

For the most part, I’m inclined to keep my personal opinions off social media channels, other than when I share what I write here. It’s old-school sensibilities, I suppose. I’d rather hash out society’s challenges over good conversation, fresh coffee, fine cigars and great drinks. These days, I get a lot more satisfaction from a face-to-face discussion. I think it’s important to be able to look people in the eye when you’re sharing things from the heart.

I’m also not in any hurry for everyone to hear what I have to say. The past few years, especially on social media, I’ve tried to live by a few simple rules: First, does what I’m about to say really need to be said? Second, does it need to be said right now? And third, am I the one who should say it? Rarely can I answer all three questions in the affirmative, and that’s saved a lot of wear and tear on the keyboard.

But just so there’s no misunderstanding, the violence that took place on Capitol Hill was shameful and wrong. It was an unmitigated assault on the nation’s institutions of democracy, and politicians on both sides of the aisle have been quick to condemn it. I believe violence is never the answer, and the country has processes in place for people to be heard or seek redress without resorting to the sad behavior we witnessed last Wednesday.

Don’t expect to read that on my personal social media channels, but if you find yourself in need of a cup of encouragement, stop on by my Facebook page.

Doug Hensley is associate regional editor and director of commentary for the Avalanche-Journal.