Published: Good Men Project (June 2, 2015)
Matthew Rozsa asks one of the most important ethical questions that any editorial writer must answer: At what point does “personal” become “too personal?”
—-
Last Saturday I published an editorial called “3 Correctable Behaviors That Destroy Relationships.” Drawing from a particularly ugly falling out that I had recently experienced with an ex-girlfriend, the article’s immediate goal was to critique common social behaviors and mindsets that (I argue) inhibit empathy and cause people to unfairly judge each other.
Although the piece has done very well on this site, it also provoked a fair amount of negative feedback, much of it coming from individuals who I’ve known and respected for years… including one to whom I have looked up as a mentor for almost a decade. Their criticisms fell into two basic categories:
1. That discussing such a personal matter in a published article that was guaranteed to be seen by thousands of readers constituted an act of violation against my ex.
2. That it was generally unbecoming of me to delve into such a personal and vulnerable matter in a public forum.
While I don’t necessarily agree with these criticisms (more on that in a moment), they raise important questions about the ethics of discussing personal matters in published writing, and as such merit thoughtful analysis on a point-by-point basis.
Point One: When is it okay to discuss sensitive personal matters that involve other people?
Ethically speaking, the most important factor to take into consideration is protecting the privacy of those who don’t want to be in the public eye. As a personal policy, I have never named or provided other identifying information about individuals mentioned in my articles unless they have given me express permission to do so. I follow this rule not only when writing articles that could be unflattering to the subject in question, but even with more innocuous pieces. Because formally published articles by their very nature are more prominent and widely read than errant blog posts or message board comments, it behooves the writers of these pieces to make sure that the people who appear in their work are comfortable with the impact it will have on their online reputation. Consequently, although my ex-girlfriend’s words and actions were covered in “3 Correctable Behaviors That Destroys Relationships,” I made a point of omitting both her name and anything else that could identify her to those who weren’t already familiar with our situation (i.e., mutual friends).
As a personal policy, I have never named or provided other identifying information about individuals mentioned in my articles unless they have given me express permission to do so… Because formally published articles by their very nature are more prominent and widely read than errant blog posts or message board comments, it behooves the writers of these pieces to make sure that the people who appear in their work are comfortable with the impact it will have on their online reputation.
While it is wrong to publicly identify someone from your personal life against their will, the same rule does not hold for discussing their words and actions without their consent. Like other creative people, writers draw from their personal experiences not only to find inspiration for their work, but to be able to speak knowledgeably about the topics they’re trying to discuss. Great fictional authors from Charles Dickens to Stephen King were known to mine the ore of their real lives when weaving much of the classic literature that we still read today… and what is true for novelists and short story writers is especially applicable for columnists like those at The Good Men Project, whose work so often touches on sensitive issues ranging from gender identity and dating culture to overcoming disabilities and coping with physical and emotional abuse. While there are plenty of great articles on these subjects by journalists and scholars who lack real-life experience with them – and, indeed, that detachment can be an enormous asset – those writers who do draw on their own lives will, out of necessity, be compelled to mention the men and women whose words and deeds helped shape their experiences. To expect anything else is simply unrealistic.
Point Two: Was it unbecoming of me to discuss something this vulnerable in a public forum?
In theory, no: I’ve written about plenty of deeply personal subjects in the past, from my struggles with Asperger’s Syndrome and depression to nearly being murdered in an anti-Semitic hate crime. While many of those pieces only probed my own vulnerabilities, there have been plenty that included criticisms of others, from a piece about a woman who complained that I had “friend zoned” her to an article last year that was entirely devoted to people who I had lost through various conflicts over the course of my life. Up until the publication of “3 Correctable Behaviors That Destroys Relationships,” no one had even told me that they found these personal discussions to be unbecoming.
While it is wrong to publicly identify someone from your personal life against their will, the same rule does not hold for discussing their words and actions without their consent. Like other creative people, writers draw from their personal experiences not only to find inspiration for their work, but to be able to speak knowledgeably about the topics they’re trying to discuss.
This brings us to the difference between “3 Correctable Behaviors That Destroys Relationships” and its predecessors – and, from there, where my critics have a very strong point. Unlike the previous pieces, which were written months or even years after the events in question, “3 Correctable Behaviors That Destroys Relationships” was composed only a day or so after the incidents took place. At the time, I felt the freshness of the subject in my mind would strengthen the article; in retrospect, it also allowed a tone of anger and bitterness to creep into the subtext. This weakened the article not only by giving it an unpleasant and astringent tone, but by distracting the reader from the larger points that it was trying to make. For an essay offering advice to be effective, the focus must always be on illustrating the fundamental argument through personal experience(s) – not on telling the story of said personal experience(s) and then weaving a message through the narrative along the way. Although I had intended to do the former, my tone resulted in me effectively doing the latter instead… and for that, I have no one to blame but myself.
What’s the moral of the story?
Writing about yourself is an ethically thorny business. There are certain rules which are ironclad and obvious—not plagiarizing, not fabricating sources or lying about one’s own experiences, etc.—but in many ways the task of determining the parameters of propriety falls on each individual writer to determine for him or herself. While I have a personal code that I try my best to follow (although even that has evolved considerably over time), other writers no doubt follow different personal guidelines – or, in some cases, no guidelines at all.
In the end, there is no definite answer as to where the line should be drawn when it comes to how writers should incorporate the people around them into their own work. If nothing else, though, it’s clear that there is considerable debate on the subject—and that, I strongly believe, is very healthy.