Have you ever started to throw a tennis ball for a dog and then only pretended to throw it?
You monster.
That dog is probably the most trusting, loving, beautiful soul on this planet. And you just denied it the pleasure of chasing that tennis ball.
It gets worse, though. Most of the time, you don’t just pretend to throw the ball once. You pretend to throw it twice. A third time. Maybe even a fourth time. As many times as it takes for that dog to learn to watch the ball all the way through the throw. As many times as it takes for that dog to learn that it can’t trust you.
And when the whole charade is over, all you’ve really succeeded in doing is taking what little love and magic was left in the world and diminishing it that much more.
Pretending to throw a tennis ball so you can trick a dog is one of the lowest, most depraved acts of common humanity. I will accept no debate on this fact.
What is the point in fooling a less-intelligent life form just to bolster your own ego? Why visit such heartless trickery on an innocent canine? It is an indefensible act.
Here’s an interesting question for you, though. Have you ever seen one of those viral videos where someone performs a magic trick for a monkey? Maybe they make a little ball disappear or perform some simple, rudimentary sleight of hand at a zoo, and then the monkey reacts. And I use the term monkey loosely, here. It could refer to any number of simians.
What amazes me is how the animal always loves the trick. Every time I’ve seen one of these videos, and I’ve seen a surprisingly large number of these videos, the monkey inevitably reacts with joy and amazement. Every time. It looks silly to us because, well, it’s a person doing magic for a monkey, and more often than not we’re on the end of the trick where we can see just how stupidly simple it really was all along. Again. Magic for a monkey.
Let me show you my cards a little bit here. I’m not really interested in the animals receiving the tricks all that much, aside from their differing reactions. The dog will always respond with trust, followed by disappointment when it realizes you’re tricking it. The monkey will always react with amazement and awe. These reactions are immutable.
What I’m interested in is the all-too human attitudes and motivations at play for the people behind each of these actions. As I’ve already hinted, my opinion of those who try to trick dogs is none too high. It’s a base mentality that belies severe lack of empathy. When you try to trick a dog, all you’re doing is trying to bamboozle someone else for your own benefit. For the person who performs a magic trick for a monkey, though, you’re just trying to introduce a little bit of wonder into the world.
Okay. So my own attitudes towards people who trick dogs might be based in hyperbole. I’ll admit that. But I want you to catch the same revelation I did the other day when this concept first hit me.
When people are actively spreading information to others, they are generally doing so for one of two reasons: They either want your attention for their own benefit or for yours. When someone stands up in front of a crowd and relays some type of information, they almost always fall into one of those two camps.
The dog tricker wanted the dog’s attention strictly so that they could garner enjoyment for themselves at the dog’s expense. The monkey magician wanted attention so they could turn it into enjoyment for someone else.
We are in an era where critical thinking is exceptionally vital. There is no denying that. Admittedly, I’m not sure if there’s ever been a time when critical thinking was just an added little bonus in life’s skill sets, but you know I’m right here. People are constantly spreading misinformation or outright lies for seemingly no reason. Personalities traffic in frenzy and hyperbole and social media, especially, is a realm ruled by clans of the extra-enthused and under-informed.
If you can’t navigate these waters without recognizing the inherent dangers, then you’re bound to end up riding the wrong bus.
Maybe I mixed my metaphors in that last sentence a tad. I don’t know. Just be careful.
Perhaps the most valuable skill you can have when trying to wade through the muck out there is the ability to recognize why someone wants your attention. All content out there is intended to grab your attention for one reason or another. So does someone think you’re a dog to be tricked, or do they think you’re a monkey to be amazed?
That distinction seems arbitrary and minimal, I admit, but the subtle difference is vital. You need to be able to tell when someone wants your attention so they can just trick you and feed you whatever false reality they want you to believe. You need to be able to tell when someone just wants to fool you.
What makes it all so dangerous is just how infectious attention can be. When crowds of people are eating out of your hand and telling you that everything you’re saying is lovely and wonderful, now that’s a rush. Far too many people derive their self-worth from hearing that sort of support from total strangers. If they don’t fall in love with the social accolades for delivering the message someone wants you to hear, then they fall in love with the money they get paid for fooling you.
My message here isn’t just for the audiences. Not just for the monkeys and dogs. My message here is also for those of us who dare to speak for the purpose of public consumption. If you open your mouth or clack your keyboard for the purpose of communicating to an audience, you have the responsibility to do so…responsibly. Communicate truthfully. Communicate honorably. Communicate for the purpose of helping your audience, not fooling it.
I’ll leave some allowances for accidents and errors. It can always happen. Even I’ve been wrong on occasion. I think there was that one time. But I have made a covenant with myself that I would never lie to make an audience happy. Or in order to make an audience angry. Having spent a year in the world of sports radio and three years in newspaper sports reporting before that, I can tell you that it is a bizarre reality that some people just enjoy the attention they get from making people mad.
I don’t quite understand why anyone would want an army of sports fanatics mad at them for no good reason, but there are some people who thrive on that brand of attention. And they’re exactly like the rest, just pretending to throw a tennis ball to see what the dog does.
In the past, I’ve talked about Nate Staniforth’s book Here is Real Magic. Staniforth is a magician. In the book, he talks about the pursuit of wonder. To magicians like Staniforth and Brian Brushwood, a personal favorite of mine, magic is not about fooling the audience. Magic is about providing the audience with wonder. It may look on the surface like magicians want to fool the audience. You would be coming to a reasonable conclusion if that’s what you thought, though you would still be wrong.
This particular school of magician wants to wow the audience. They want to sign a contract with you that says even though they present a lie to you, they do so with the agreement that you know it is a lie and you still receive a sense of pleasure from it. These magicians do not want your attention so they can have the sense of smug satisfaction that some magicians might derive from pulling the wool over an audience's eyes. Magicians like Staniforth want your attention so they can give you something back in return: Wonder.
The line here can be so razor thin. And that’s why it is so important that the audience can recognize when they’re being misled. And why it is so important for communicators to remain vigilant and to constantly check their motives.
There is no lasting value in being the type of person who derives their self-worth by taking it from others. Strive to be better than that. Strive to be better than being the kind of person who live for fooling the dog.