By Philo Yunrui Wang
“Of course, we all have the right to criticize—and in fact to do so in profoundly unproductive, unreasonable, and yes, cruel ways.” Emma Camp wrote in her article “Why My NYT Article Inspired So Much Fury.”
Emma Camp, an alumna of University of Virginia, found herself at the center of a heated public debate after publishing her piece “I Came to College Eager to Debate. I Found Self-Censorship Instead” in the New York Times.
In Camps’s article, she expressed disappointment over what she saw as a stifling environment for open dialogue on campus, where students were reluctant to express controversial or unpopular opinions for fear of backlash.
Following its publication, Camp faced a wave of online criticism, with reactions ranging from disagreements to personal attacks.
As Camp wrote, most of us will not doubt free speech to preserve open inquiry and freedom of expression. Meanwhile, she mentions her psychological turmoil and diminished eagerness to participate in discussions after being publicly criticized.
I believe many people also share this experience of feeling constrained and oppressed for what people say, whether in public settings or intimate relationships.
Over time, it’s inevitable that we validate our discomfort by isolating ourselves from the critics, including what they say and the way they say it, or by joining the censorship. Either choice is to inhibit dialogue.
Actually, there must be some of us who think curbing responses to protect the freedom of speech sounds like a paradox, and also have a sense that there is a subtle boundary around freedom. Yet not knowing what it is is also the cost of self-censorship. We never asked.
Is it an exception? Is it a power? Is it a law? Or is it morality? Knowing so little about what leads us to feel affronted makes us very likely to be hostile about the whole thing and the whole person we are facing, fearfully.
“It is completely possible to uphold the value of a legal right while also noting how the abuse of those rights can sometimes lead to undesirable results. If we want a culture that values free expression and open inquiry, we ought to refrain from our most vindictive impulses,” Camp wrote.
“Have I ever been vindictive?” When I asked myself this question, another one came up: What is vindictive, specifically?
Vindictiveness is defined as having or showing a wish to harm someone because you think that they harmed you. It also implies an unwillingness to forgive.
If we peel back the countless voices we hear every day, we find that our fear often lies not in dissent itself but in the potential for harm and the impulse to cause harm. This potential harm can be triggered by ignorance or reinforced by structures and cultures.
Of course, I have been vindictive. I’ve felt this inner fear and ignorance in my everyday life.
Yet, vindictiveness in our interactions is not some mysterious evil embedded in human nature. Rather, it stems from a shared fear of losing basic rights, such as freedom of speech, before they are manipulated by systemic ideologies.
Acknowledging and discussing vindictiveness is the first step toward confronting it openly.
To put it simply, non-vindictive responses aim to encourage continued dialogue. They aim to clarify misunderstandings without resorting to demeaning or hostile tactics.
Conversely, vindictive ones usually intend to inhibit dialogue and communication. They are often characterized by an intent to suppress or isolate someone, which can impact the dignity and reputation of individuals.
The more specific considerations include the motive, manner of expression and its impact.
When a response’s primary purpose is to harm, humiliate or punish the other party rather than to engage in constructive dialogue or express a differing opinion, it is seen as vindictive.
If the response is to clarify misunderstandings, provide critical feedback, or express a reasonable dissenting opinion without attacking or demeaning the other party, they are generally not seen as vindictive.
Using methods like public shaming or inciting a group attack is considered as vindictive. These methods often intend to make the other person feel isolated or suppressed.
On the contrary, expressing differing opinions through private communication, rational discussion or providing constructive suggestions are all good starts to practice a non-vindictive dialogue.
If the response has a significant negative impact on the other person, such as causing psychological stress, social exclusion, damage to reputation or making them feel unsafe to express their views, they are considered vindictive, even if the initial intent was not such.
It should be recognized that non-vindictive responses criticize but still maintain the openness and respect of the discussion, not causing the other party to fear expressing their views or feel excluded.
The vindictiveness will not breed in a place of open exchanges and vice versa, the place of free speech will not nourish vindictiveness. In other words, vindictiveness grows in restraint. Ignorance, the structure, systemic biases and unopened culture all can be the nutrition. They undermine the very essence of free speech by instilling fear and stifling exchange.
By maintaining a communicative environment where dissent is not only tolerated but encouraged, provided it does not cross into vindictiveness, society can ensure that free speech serves its true purpose: to enhance understanding and promote a well-informed populace.
This is the beginning for the dissent to find the consensus, rather than a battleground of fears and vendettas.
