Pseudonymity.

There's a theory, nay an outright axiom, that deals with the nature of the internet and the behavior of its denizens.  Anonymity combined with an unlimited worldwide audience leads people to write things they would never dare say in public, and maybe not even in private, thereby creating a world of pure id.  The converse of this axiom is essentially that if people had to post comments using their real names, they would never in a million years write some of the heinous, awful things they do.

There was a story on NPR the other day about people fighting to be able to use pseudonyms on social networking sites like Facebook or Google+.  It's one thing to sign up for an account with the New York Times and post your horrible thoughts about their stories on vegan cooking classes on the Upper East Side (zing!) using the name "MeatLvr" or "PETAsux", but to actively fight for more anonymity seems to highlight some deeper issue.  What in these person's minds is so base and callous that they not only need to express it publicly, but are so ashamed of it they need to hide it?

Winnicott was one of the first to write about The False Self, the mask that we put up to meet the expectations of others.  Each of us at some point in our lives has a False Self that we present to the world; someone (some thing, really) that we think is better than out true selves.  Someone that is...what?  Smarter?  Funnier?  More confident?  Less affected by criticism?  We all do it, but at some point you grow up, you drop the mask, and you realize that you are a wonderful, lovable, complete person (yes, YOU!).  You allow the True Self to be the dominant personality, and discard the mask. 

And now there's a group fighting to remain anonymous.  Fighting to keep their masks in tact.  What must they think of themselves that they need to hide?  What must they think of others, to want to hide?  Maybe it's  case of arrested development.  Maybe they just have so much hatred in them that they can only expel it on message boards in disguise. Or maybe they lack the surety of their friends loyalty that they can express themselves without fear of wounding a relationship. 

I count myself amongst the lucky that I know my friends love me enough to put up with my ravings, and that I need not present a False Self to the world.

Sincerely,
Wilfred Q. Krackenback