Imagine Everything You Could Accomplish if You Just Spent Less Time Being a Jerk on Social Media

I’m really lucky.

When I was younger I wanted to be a writer–only to quit on that dream. Eleven years later I started writing on LinkedIn Pulse for fun, and that grew into a following, which grew into this column on Inc., which grew into a role as a contributor to CNBC and CNN.

My writing gives me the opportunity to interact with my fellow human beings on social media, which for the most part is a true pleasure. I’ve gained wonderful friends, colleagues, and clients from some of those interactions. Overall, it’s been great.

Except when it isn’t.

Like when someone disagrees with an idea I have or a position I take by suggesting that my dead mother wouldn’t be proud of me, that I look like I have Down Syndrome, or ask where they can mail a flaming bag of excrement to my door.

Those were real tweets and emails I received, within hours of one another.

I understand having thick skin is the cost of getting to do what I love.

But I also wonder what these individuals–what any of us–are hoping to accomplish by acting this way.

If it’s to rattle the individual you’re targeting your venom at, I think that usually succeeds. We’re all human, and when you start talking about someone’s dead mother, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

But changing someone’s mind?

Fail.

Engaging in productive dialogue?

Fail.

Making yourself look witty or informed?

Fail.

Making the world a better place?

Fail.

People disagree with me all the time. I’ve had other bloggers write respectful, engaging posts for the sole purpose of telling me how wrong I am. I have all the respect in the world for that.

But a hate-filled tweet, comment, or message doesn’t demonstrate intelligence. It shows your influence, imagination, and ability to articulate your thoughts is limited to 140 characters, or less.

One of my favorite movies, Ratatouille, features an ending monologue from the villain, a restaurant critic, that begins with the following lines:

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgement. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.”

If you define bravery, wit, and your contribution to the world by how harsh you can be to those willing to actually create something–whether that “something” is a widely read column or a simple social media post–you are failing.

You are failing to change anyone’s mind and failing to make any positive change in the world. Your insult might get a few likes, but there is a reason “likes” come so easy.

Likes come so easy because they are fleeting and worth very little.

We all have limited time in the day, and the time spent composing that tweet calling someone an idiot could be spent doing something more productive. What, specifically, would be more productive?

Almost anything.

Read something. Smile at someone.

Create. Produce.

Put an original idea out there.

That’s how you actually make an impact.