Following the tragic accident that claimed the life of a schoolgirl, a committee of citizens in my neighborhood campaigned for traffic calming around the school in question. The word appeasement seems very well chosen to me. He is desperately missed at this time.
Whether we find ourselves behind the wheel or behind a keyboard, it seems that this poor little power transforms us, deteriorates us morally and gives us a sadly cartoonish version of ourselves. We suddenly become like that big dog in the Disney cartoon: model citizen, courteous, as soon as he gets into his car, he becomes a kind of demon steeped in impatience!
Road networks, social networks, these highways look alike; road rage, rage on the screen rage too regularly. Is it the speed? Is it the distance? Is it, in one case as in the other, our confinement in an illusory solitude? Or, more broadly, is it the disarray of this time that we are presented with as a prelude to the apocalypse, which wears us out, exasperates us and puts us all on edge?
The fact remains that, all of a sudden, the other no longer really exists, that he finds himself reduced to being an obstacle on our way, a shell in our text. We even wonder what use it can be, this other, as we do for the mosquito, the royal python or this singer who displeases us.
As if what justified the existence of anything was to allow ours, or to be pleasant to us… Well. Since the sun no longer revolves around the Earth, it is visibly around the ego that it traces its orbits.
Poor other! We judge him with a harshness and a lack of nuance that are quite foreign to us in the age of self-criticism, when it comes.
Know how to drive
We have so many good reasons for everything, us, even the worst, and so many extenuating circumstances. While at the other, he is denied even his exhausting circumstances. When we meet him on the Internet or on the road, at this precise moment, this other has neither passed on to us nor injuries or illnesses, this other is no more than a, how to say, inaccurate and out of phase version of us themselves. One would even swear that it was placed there on purpose to raise, a little more, the pressure of this already hysterical time.
However, all these others, whether I precede them, follow them or cross them, are in no way obstacles thrown in my way. Besides, they are no more on my road than I am on theirs! We share a common space. The road is the quintessence of public space.
These others are just other mortals like me, with a childhood, a medical file, a little one at daycare, a relative at the CHSLD, a complicated itinerary, orange cones full of the agenda, and who may be living a difficult day, when I meet them.
An old device, of great simplicity, perfectly illustrates this emotional myopia, this lack of empathy and good manners: the horn. Or rather its use. Because, in itself, it is a very useful accessory. It can prevent accidents; its primary function is the alert. Alert of what? Of our presence, of course. Of our presence which wants to move forward, turn around, not get caught in it, etc. Of our bored, worried, exasperated, impatient, princely presence, in short, of our very, very important presence.
Certainly, the use of the horn is permitted by law, but so is the sale of alcohol, and in both cases, moderation tastes much better. A violent blast of the horn can raise the mood of anyone within a hundred meters radius, so aggressive is this sound; we have all experienced it. It’s like a bad spell thrown around, every day in full force!
To remind someone that the light has turned green, you don’t have to blow up the bridge over the River Kwai. A quick snap does the trick. Knowing how to drive is good, but knowing how to drive is even better.
The blooper trade
Let’s leave the road network for a moment to return to the social networks, worried and frowning, where this irresistible and unbearable creature, the other, is legion, a legion that we shamelessly allow our privacy to cross.
First of all, let’s remember that if we meet this driver driving in the wrong direction on the highway of our values or who writes insignificances in garish capital letters, it’s because we have chosen, in an eternal quest for thumbs up and colored hearts. , to share this collective space with him. (The adjective I just used to qualify capital letters reminds me, aptly, that a horn was called a screamer when I was little!)
“But what are you saying, chronicler! ? Don’t we have the right to judge? Don’t we do it systematically? Isn’t critical thinking a tautology as it is in the nature of an intelligent being to screen reality through its values and its thinking? Aren’t we entitled to anger and indignation? »
Of course, reader. Of course, reader. But that’s not what I’m talking about and I think you know it well. Haven’t you heard it, too, that animal growl that precedes virtuous indignation? The erection of the index finger out of the fist to designate the culprit or the ridiculous comes with a kind of unhealthy contentment, a rise of saliva which has nothing to do with ethics, it seems to me. I would like to analyze it, this saliva… It is probably not exempt from impotent anger, bitterness, envy, the intoxicating euphoria of being part of the pack of good guys. We feel an appetite to be indignant, to honk our horns, to attack someone or something, even before this something has happened; one senses a pre-existing frustration, anger, just waiting for an alibi to spit out their black bile in small print on a white background.
The accusing index finger, like a hunting dog, is released at daybreak. Moreover, many even make a job of unearthing the stupidity or the fool of the week. The blooper is, in fact, a nice little business: little intellectual effort, a lot of media credit, with the bonus of the sympathy of a public too happy to find themselves on the right side of the mockery. I should get on it; but I’m not business savvy.
I rather suggest, before taking the wheel or the keyboard, a few deep belly breaths, followed by small exercises of empathy and self-criticism, all completed by two minutes of silence. This could lead us to take actions, and words, which would contribute a little to appeasement, this appeasement that we all need, especially at intersections located near schools…
As well as on the big digital square where stoning is making a comeback which does not bode well.