The other day, a friend was sharing her (fairly mild) opinion about social media in a general discussion, and another woman in our conversation was immediately moved to express herself, publicly and in a shaken manner. “I’m sorry to disagree, but it’s more nuanced than that,” the other woman said, and went on to express herself in a slightly quavering voice.

For a while, I thought maybe the other woman was actually disagreeing with something I had said, not what my friend had said. I mean, I had suggested earlier in the conversation that given a trolley problem and a certain public figure, I would cheerfully and without compunction redirect the trolley to run him over. That would have been a good thing to argue about, because no, I wouldn’t actually run him over, and it’s not setting a good example to wish people dead.

But then my friend said aside to me, “I’m not sure what I said that she’s disagreeing with,” and I realized for once I wasn’t the one who had given offense.

Somehow, my friend’s genteel personal opinion, expressed much less intemperately than mine, had shaken the other woman to the core.

Someone else in the room also piled on after that, because people like to pile on, and I had to talk my friend down afterwards, both that day and the next.

In our conversation the next day, my friend asked if perhaps she should try to be more temperate in her remarks in general. “You could do that,” I said amiably. “But then I wouldn’t trust you as much myself.” Because that’s me. I prefer people who can easily say what they think, partly because I can’t help saying what I think myself.

People do like to disagree, though, and they often don’t like to listen before they do it.

Recently, for instance, I posted an opinion on social media about a current (and cyclical) controversy in the pedagogy of reading. Someone reacted in high dudgeon, at length. His lived experience, he said, contradicted what I had said, and he went on to lay out his personal experience. His written tone was the equivalent of the quavering, angry voice I had heard the other day.

I mildly pointed out that I hadn’t said what he was disagreeing with, because I hadn’t.

And then I muted him.

I forget what logical fallacy is involved in arguing against a statement that someone hasn’t actually made, but of course disagreeing with people at length and in high dudgeon is part of the pleasure of being human, whether online, in person face to face, or aside with friends, in muttered conversations, afterwards. Also, some of us are more tightly wound than others. I forget that, too.

Anyway, my friend’s opinion that she expressed in the first place was that when someone did something online that she really didn’t approve of, she blocked them. And that, I think, was the bone of contention. The idea of blocking (or muting) people, of choosing not to listen to them, seems to be more offensive to some people than the idea of pulling a switch so that a trolley runs over someone.

I’ll have to think about that for a bit.