Suppose Power comes up to you and says hey, I’m gonna kick you in the balls. And when you protest, they say they don’t want to make anyone unsafe, so as long as you can prove that kicking you in the balls will cause long-term irrecoverable damage, they’ll hold off. And you say, well, it’ll hurt quite a lot. And they say that’s subjective, they’ll need a doctor’s note proving you have a chronic pain condition like hyperalgesia or fibromyalgia. And you say fine, I guess I don’t have those, but it might be dangerous. And they ask you if you’re some sort of expert who can prove there’s a high risk of organ rupture, and you have to admit the risk of organ rupture isn’t exactly high. But also, they add, didn’t you practice taekwondo in college? Isn’t that the kind of sport where you can get kicked in the balls pretty easily? Sounds like you’re not really that committed to this not-getting-kicked-in-the-balls thing.
No! There’s no dignified way to answer any of these questions except “fuck you”. Just don’t kick me in the balls! It isn’t rocket science! Don’t kick me in the fucking balls!
In the New York Times’ worldview, they start with the right to dox me, and I had to earn the right to remain anonymous by proving I’m the perfect sympathetic victim who satisfies all their criteria of victimhood. But in my worldview, I start with the right to anonymity, and they need to make an affirmative case for doxxing me. I admit I am not the perfect victim. The death threats against me are all by losers who probably don’t know which side of a gun you shoot someone with. If anything happened at work, it would probably inconvenience me and my patients, but probably wouldn’t literally kill either of us. Still! Don’t kick me in the fucking balls!
I don’t think anyone at the Times bore me ill will, at least not originally. But somehow that just made it even more infuriating. In Street Fighter, the hero confronts the Big Bad about the time he destroyed her village. The Big Bad has destroyed so much stuff he doesn’t even remember: “For you, the day [I burned] your village was the most important day of your life. For me, it was Tuesday.” That was the impression I got from the Times. They weren’t hostile. I wasn’t a target they were desperate to take out. The main emotion I was able to pick up from them was annoyance that I was making their lives harder by making a big deal out of this. For them, it was Tuesday.
It’s bad enough to get kicked in the balls because Power hates you. But it’s infuriating to have it happen because Power can’t bring itself to care.
https://astralcodexten.substack.com/p/still-alive
Background: The New York Times wanted to write an article about Scott Alexander, but they would have to reveal his real name as per their policy. Scott wanted to maintain his anonymity and didn’t like the New York Times’s strategy of doxxing random bloggers for clicks. So, after much deliberation, he decided to delete his entire blog.
Do read the full article if you have some time to spare, and click on all the links, it’s a cautionary tale of what can happen when you start to gain a bit of fame on the internet.
Ziel Translation 