I Miss Nobodies: In the Good Old Days, Nobody Cared What We Thought, and We Were Fine With It
Once upon a time, in a world not so long ago, there existed a magical place filled with nobodies. These nobodies went about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of the banality of their existence. They had no followers, no fans, and certainly no blue checkmarks to validate their importance. They were the people who lived next door, your cousin twice removed, or even the guy who served you coffee at the local diner.
These everyday, ordinary folks were content toiling away in obscurity, blissfully ignorant of the cacophony of opinions that would one day engulf the world. They didn’t feel the need to broadcast their thoughts on the latest celebrity scandal or dissect the geopolitical implications of a presidential tweet. Life was simpler, and frankly, a whole lot quieter.
But then the internet came along, and with it, social media. Suddenly, everyone’s opinion mattered — or at least, that’s what we were led to believe. In the new digital landscape, every Tom, Dick, and Harriet felt compelled to share their hot takes on everything from politics to pet grooming. The once-sacred realm of the nobodies was invaded by the self-proclaimed somebodies, and we’ve been drowning in a deluge of unsolicited opinions ever since.
Nowadays, we have “experts” like Gary, who earned his PhD in armchair epidemiology by binge-watching YouTube videos on vaccines, and Patricia, who’s managed to become a relationship guru despite her own romantic life resembling a series of unfortunate events. With their newfound internet fame, they’ve become the loudest voices in the digital room, leaving little space for the nobodies of yesteryear.
Take Dave, for example, a mild-mannered accountant with a penchant for 18th-century porcelain. In the pre-social media era, Dave’s passion for antique tea sets was something he shared only with a select group of equally enthusiastic friends. Now, Dave hosts a weekly podcast where he debates the merits of Rococo versus Baroque ceramics and has a Twitter following of 3,000 people who hang on his every word. Sure, it’s impressive, but do we really need another opinion on the finer points of gilded teacups?
Or consider Susan, a stay-at-home mom who once enjoyed scrapbooking in her free time. In the age of the nobodies, Susan’s creative outlet was reserved for family gatherings and the occasional PTA meeting. Today, she’s an “influencer,” documenting her family’s every move on Instagram while dispensing unsolicited parenting advice to her thousands of followers. We’ve all met a Susan, and we can’t help but wonder, is anyone really better off for it?
Now, I’m not saying there’s no value in sharing our thoughts and experiences. After all, both Dave Berry and David Sedaris have made careers out of transforming everyday life into humorous anecdotes that resonate with millions. But there’s a significant difference between crafting a well-thought-out essay or witty commentary and firing off a half-baked opinion on the latest trending topic. And that’s where we seem to have lost our way.
So, let’s raise a glass (or a gilded teacup, if you prefer) to the long-lost nobodies. They may not have had a platform, but they knew how to listen, to ponder, and to savor the art of contemplation. In a world where everyone feels the need to shout their opinions from the digital rooftops, and where Gary and Patricia masquerade as experts, perhaps it’s time we rediscovered the quiet dignity of being a nobody.
