Have We Lost Our Civility—Or Is Anxiety Driving Us Apart?
For weeks I have been pondering this. Which came first: rising rates of anxiety and depression, or the erosion of basic human civility?
We know that heavy social media use is closely linked to mental health issues like generalized anxiety and depression. But is there more to this story? Could our declining ability to treat one another with dignity and respect be part of the same downward spiral?
Consider this: when people hide behind screens and anonymous usernames, some seem to lose their moral compass entirely. Social media, once a tool for connection, too often becomes a breeding ground for hostility and cruelty.
A personal example drives (no pun intended) this home. Lately, I’ve witnessed complete strangers curse, spit, and flash offensive gestures at one of my family members—simply for driving a Tesla Cybertruck. These aren’t isolated incidents. In today’s politically charged climate, it seems even a vehicle can become a target for misplaced outrage. Some have gone beyond gestures, resorting to vandalism and aggression.
Why are we reacting to disagreement or discontent with such hostility? When did we stop seeing each other as human beings and start viewing one another as symbols of our frustration?
The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) and the broader political discourse have undeniably stirred strong emotions. But disagreement doesn’t have to lead to dehumanization. There are civil, constructive ways to express dissent—without threatening safety or tearing at the social fabric.
We owe it to ourselves—and to future generations—to pause and ask: Are we becoming more anxious because society is losing its kindness? Or is our rising anxiety eroding our ability to be kind? Perhaps it’s both. And perhaps reclaiming empathy is part of the solution.
When Shock Becomes the Standard: The Kanye West Controversy
Another troubling example of our collective slide into incivility and moral confusion is the recent behavior of Kanye West (who now goes by Ye). Once celebrated for his artistic genius, Ye has made increasingly disturbing public statements—including self-identifying as a Nazi and, most recently, releasing a song titled “Heil Hitler.”
Pause on that for a moment. In any other era, such an overt expression of hatred and historical ignorance would have been universally condemned and quickly silenced by mainstream platforms. But today? The response is alarmingly muted. Some call it “artistic expression.” Others dismiss it as another Ye stunt, not worth the outrage.
But it is worth the outrage.
When we allow such hate-fueled content to circulate unchecked, we normalize the abnormal. We send a message to younger generations that moral boundaries are fluid—and that shock value can outweigh social responsibility.
The question is not just how Ye was able to release such a song. The deeper question is: How did we get here? What cultural and technological forces have dulled our collective moral compass to the point where blatant hate speech can be rebranded as provocative art?
If we tolerate this kind of rhetoric from influential figures, we risk widening the rift in our already fragile social fabric. And perhaps more dangerously, we reinforce the idea that cruelty, when paired with fame, is not only acceptable—but profitable.
When Grief Turns to Plea: Mourning Sarah and Yaaron, and the Erosion of Basic Humanity
Just two days ago, in Washington, D.C., our hearts were shattered.
Sarah Milgrim and Yaaron Lischinsky, two vibrant young souls, advocates for peace, and partners on the verge of engagement, were murdered in cold blood. They were not combatants. They were not symbols. They were human beings, committed to compassion, coexistence, and making this world better.
Their lives were stolen in the name of “Palestinian rights”—a phrase that, in this context, was weaponized to justify the unjustifiable. Let’s be clear: this was not activism. This was terrorism.
What makes this tragedy even more unbearable is the silence. Where is the outrage? Where is the flood of voices declaring this evil for what it is? We as a society are not just facing a civility crisis—we are teetering on the edge of moral collapse when cold-blooded murder is met with apathy or politicized excuse-making.
We are grieving. And that grief must become a call to conscience.
If we cannot unite in condemnation of senseless violence—no matter what cause it claims to serve—then we’ve lost more than two beautiful lives. We’ve lost the thread of shared humanity that binds us all.
Please stand up. Speak out. Reject terrorism in all its forms. Reject hatred masquerading as justice. Refuse to accept a world where lives like Sarah’s and Yaaron’s are seen as collateral damage in ideological wars and where music has become a weapon of hatred.