Did 9/11 push us into cowardly rudeness?

Our family’s reminder over our back door to never forget 9/11.
Did 9/11 numb Americans to common courtesy? Is it possible that our decorum got buried in the rubble of that fateful day? Was our ability to enagage in a civil discussion forever lost as those planes flew into buildings?
Each time I board a plane to fly to a speaking engagement, I think about the heroes of 9/11. The images from that day still bring me to tears. The change we’ve seen in our country in the decade since 9/11 is the most saddening. I recall how Washington, D.C. morphed overnight from a symbol of freedom to being locked down. Airports moved travel into an entirely different level of craziness as 90 and 9 year-olds were treated as terrorist threats. And images of soldiers brought home in caskets streamed crossed every media outlet, with nightly parades of mutilated “bad” guys being put on the news (which I no longer watch).

While working with this agriculture education group in Egypt, I was touched by their kindness, quest for knowledge and sense of humor.
Yet the most telling change is how society has delved into new depths of rudeness, hate and sensationalism. I don’t know if it started on 9/11, but I do know that American culture forever changed on that day. There is no clearer example of this than Americans hatred toward Muslims. Just because someone shares a religion with an extremist terrorist, do they deserve to be insulted? After working in Egypt (before the Arab Spring) and learning more about Muslims firsthand, I find our country in fault of extreme sensationalism and hatred. I’m a Christian and consider my religion to be deeply personal – plus I know better than to get into a religious debate in a professional setting – so I rarely mention it in this blog. However, after working with mainstream Muslims, having conversations with them about faith and finding common connecting points – I find great difficulty in how many Americans label Muslims as terrorists when they’ve not ever talked to a single one.
More evidence of rudeness and uncalled-for personal attacks are found across the internet. The blogosphere and social media have made it easy for cowards to hide in a veil of anonymity. Case in point – discussions about food. Food has become as polarized as religion or politics – and apparently the breeding grounds for rudeness. Is it really necessary to insult a person, a company or an organization because they post something you don’t agree with? Is that really what freedom of speech – one of the very principles we claimed to defend on 9/11 – is about? Then why can’t we engage in civil debate?
I see common courtesy lacking around all sides of the food plate. Activists proclaiming biotechnology is poisoning the world and driven by corporate greed are screaming as loud as they can from one side, while farmers are shouting that activists are stupid from the other side. Large farms are terrible and animals are being beaten is screamed at the same time as insults about small farms and local. Undoubtedly, the worst is when farmers turn against each other on issues of CHOICE, such as organic vs. conventional, food vs. fuel and crops vs. livestock.

Courtesy of @AgSalesman
Somewhere in the middle is the average food buyer, who’s left confused. The screaming makes them back away from engaging in any way – it’s like the playground bullies duking it out, with mud slinging on everyone. The consumer, with no firsthand experience in food production, becomes distrustful of both sides. And ultimately, farmers lose their freedom to care for land and animals because distrusting and confused consumers do not support 1.5% of the population they rarely hear from or see.
On the anniversary of 9/11, I would like to simply ask you to consider decorum. Show people what it’s like to take the high road. Expect common courtesy in a civil debate. Respect the freedom of choice. After all, isn’t freedom one of the virtues we were supposedly defending? Decorum can speak louder than any word you write or say – and it’s badly needed.
