The Era of Mean

Monica D'Antonio
8 min readApr 24, 2021

Man…some people are MEAN. Not angry, but mean. There’s a difference. Some people have always been mean. Some people grew meaner as mean became the national attitude circa 2016. Even basic ideological differences became battles to out-mean one another.

For example, someone I know posted a meme of Colin Kaepernick kneeling with the words “the anthem isn’t for you anyway” printed across it.

Mean.

Another person I know posted the following meme about VP Kamala Harris after the 2020 election:

Really mean.

I don’t need to explain that the National Anthem belongs to ALL OF US in America, including those who protest injustice. And, I shouldn’t need to explain — especially to another woman — that Kamala Harris can date whomever the fuck she wants, sleep with whomever the fuck she wants, and marry whomever the fuck she wants and STILL be a successful woman who made it to the top by the power of her own merit. Those things can, and do, exist simultaneously.

Political discourse isn’t the only arena of mean, of course. Real life is mean too. For example, what began as a simple disagreement between two friends about social gatherings during Covid, turned into this:

“You’re an angry manly looking asshole whose [sic] mad at the world and now with this response I’m not concerned with being the nicer person because you’ve turned into such a cunt…You’re an angry manly bully and I was happy to rid you from my life! There’s a reason you have no kids. The universe knew you’d suck at being a mother because you are an angry asshole. Go fuck yourself. Seriously.”

Indeed there is a reason I don’t have kids. It’s because I had breast cancer, which then led to the removal of my uterus, thereby rendering me unable to have children. But, sure, let’s go with the universe theory. (Side note: I haven’t been told I look like a man since the 6th grade, and that insult was likely delivered by the author of the poetry above. Some people never change. But, I digress…)

In another situation involving a difference over procedure, a different friend referred to me as a gaslighting white lady.

Now, let’s be clear…I have said mean things. Very mean things. For instance, I have called Donald Trump and his entire family trash and criminals. I often refer to police and Republicans in less-than-positive ways, and I have certainly judged people’s credibility based on the sources they cite, the positions they support, and who they voted for. In reference to the above person who called me a manly, childless cunt, I called her husband a loser and told her she was pathetic. So, I am not guiltless.

But, that’s just the point. I want to look deeper at what drives this meanness, including my own. What is it about our present time that has led to just so much mean?

Here are my theories:

  1. Individualism vs. the greater good — It’s clear we have a deep divide about how to operate as a nation. Should we be rugged individuals or teammates? I was talking to a friend who applauds Texas’s lax Covid restrictions and thinks wearing a mask should be a personal choice. But can we truly make personal, individual choices when we interact with so many people every day? It’s not like all of us live in rural Montana or tundra Alaska where we might encounter more moose than humans in any given week. If our decisions were truly individual and personal, they wouldn’t impact anyone else. But we know that’s just not true. For example, people’s personal choices about how to maintain their property might drive up or down the value of other homes on that same block. Wouldn’t you be really mad if you worked hard on your own home only to have the value of it upended by the person with a front yard that looks like a jungle mated with a junkyard? Wouldn’t you get REAL mad if that neighbor used personal freedom and individualism as an excuse to be so uncouth? We see that the personal choice to not wear a mask impacts the lives of the nurses and healthcare workers who pay the price — some with their lives — for others’ personal decisions. Sure, they chose that career; they know the risks. But, do we go out of our way to make their jobs harder, or do we show them support as fellow Americans and do our part not to overcrowd the local hospital? Which choice is better, even if not the most individually beneficial? How can we possibly keep our personal decisions from impacting others when we live in a country with 330 million people? That’s where individualism fails and where the mean comes in. When I hear people talk about “personal responsibility” and “individualism” what I really hear is: “I don’t really give a fuck about anyone but me and mine. If people make bad decisions, or if my bad decisions directly or indirectly impact others, oh well.” To me, that’s just meanness dressed up in a costume of personal responsibility…
  2. Questioning — It seems that questioning information or positions is automatically received as a personal attack. For example, during the election, folks would post “Trump 2020!” on Facebook, and I would write “Why?” underneath. Of course, no one is obligated to defend their choices, but what’s wrong with me asking? If you believe in a candidate, why wouldn’t you want to extoll their virtues? If someone asks me who I’m supporting, I have reasons and am happy to discuss them. From Trump supporters, I was met with either silence or responses like, “No more free shit!” I don’t even know what that means or who/what it’s referring to. When I ask for facts or evidence, I’m called a bully. We’re now seeing the legislative version of this with Republican-led state houses passing anti-protesting laws across the country. We can’t ask questions, we can’t protest state-sanctioned murder, we can’t ask why someone supports a candidate, we can’t ask for evidence, and we definitely can’t ask people to support their claims with facts. When we do, we’re met with derision and accusations of being somehow both anti-fascist and unpatriotic. That’s confusing, contradictory, authoritarian, and, simply, mean.
  3. Conspiracy theories — Conspiracy theories are often grounded in hate, othering, and meanness. These “theories” are usually anti-Semitic, racist, xenophobic, anti-science, anti-fact, anti-reason, and just flat out dangerous. For example, when someone spreads lies about the Rothschilds and George Soros or claims Jewish space lasers cause wildfires, that’s some real anti-Semitic shit right there. When a talk show host does an entire segment on “replacement theory” in front of millions of viewers and then it gets picked up as the platform of the Republican Party, that’s some racist shit right there. When people spread falsehoods about sex trafficking rings or rigged elections, that’s some flat out lying shit right there. Making up stories about people that aren’t true and spreading lies can — and DO — endanger individuals and our country (see also: crazy white dude kills Asian women; 1/6/21, 1/6/21, 1/6/21, and 1/6/21). Conspiracy theories — and those who propel them — are, without a doubt, unjustifiably mean.
  4. Mean = $$$ — Piggybacking on conspiracy theories, we also know that mean makes money. Look at the fundraising numbers for the insurrectionist wing of the Republican Party following 1/6/21, following Marjorie Taylor Greene threatening her colleagues, hanging an anti-trans sign outside her office door (purposely aimed at her colleague, who has a trans child), and attempting to create a white supremacist caucus (she’s busy!), following Trump’s four years of angry tweeting after a day fueled by toxic levels of McDonald’s, Diet Coke, and Fox News, and following the GOP literally bullying its followers to donate to Trump’s PAC. The GOP’s meanness has made it rain. So, of course, they’ve doubled down on it! And, since their mean rhetoric pollutes our airwaves via Fox News (see also: Tucker Carlson’s utter meltdown after the Chauvin verdict), the entire constituency has succumbed to the Party of mean, the attitude of mean, and mean as a political platform.
  5. Defensiveness, incredulity, and fighting fire with fire — This is for me. This is where my mean comes from. When people — especially people who share my DNA — spread lies and misinformation, my professor fur goes up because, for decades, I have studied (and taught) what reputable information looks like, yet they don’t believe me or try to shame me for being educated (“Monica knows everything [eye roll, scoff]…” No, I don’t. I just know this thing (research). I don’t know karate, cars, or cave diving and have never claimed to. But the thing I know, I know. Just like the thing you know, you know). When people — especially people who share my DNA — defend white supremacists, murderers, psychopaths, criminals, and anti-science con-artists, I feel embarrassed, humiliated, and scared. I cringe at what this might suggest to others about me, my family, or my country. Sometimes I get mean when I simply cannot believe what is happening right in front of my eyes. And, I get mean because, sadly, it seems to be the only language that mean people respond to.
  6. Bored, tired, and over all of it — Self-explanatory…a few of us just need to get out more and spend less time on social media. I fall into this category as well.

I think we all know that it’s better to kill ’em with kindness than it is to be mean, but, for some reason, we just can’t help ourselves. We choose the vinegar over the honey, and we go low when we know we should go high (#ForeverFLOTUS).

Well, some of us are tired of taking the high road. Those of us who forgave the bullies and allowed them to stay in our lives for decades — no matter how much they abused us, called us names, used us, lied to us and about us — we’re tired of being pushed around. Those of us who held our tongues and tolerated racism, sexism, and homophobia among friends and family because those same people are usually “nice” — we’re tired of quietly seething. Those of us who believe that this nation is for ALL of us and can benefit all of us equally — we’re tired of being called snowflakes and communists.

We’re tired, but we’re not asleep.

Just because you’re mean, doesn’t mean you’re tough. I might argue just the opposite is true: Meanness shows weakness, uncertainty, and a poor sense of self. The times when I’m meanest, are the times I feel most vulnerable and least in control. I would assume that’s true for many people.

So, I’m working on retiring the mean because I am not weak. I’m working on retiring the mean because I am proud of who I am (and certainly don’t need children to validate my sense of self and my importance in this universe). I’m working on retiring the mean because I’m better than that, and I want others to be better than that.

But…don’t for a second believe that giving up the mean means giving up the fire. It doesn’t, not even a little bit.

“It is not light that is needed, but fire” — Frederick Douglass from“What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” (1852)

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Monica D'Antonio

Monica D’Antonio is an English professor. She likes reading, writing, eating, traveling, Zumba, her husband/friends/family, and progressive politics/policies.