“When it comes to privacy and accountability, people always demand the former for themselves and the latter for everyone else.” ~ David Brin

A while ago a well-intentioned friend was caught up in an argument with a person who had once been an acquaintance of mine. I’d had a falling out with the second party who had taken to referring to me in colorful phrases like “the most hated person in all SL.” While I found this amusing, my friend (who is one of those tender-hearted folk) felt some need to debate my merits. In the course of the conversation, the once-acquaintance said words to the effect of: “We don’t know anything about her, everything she says is suspect.”

While I got a healthy chuckle at the notion of being the most hated person in SL (I can’t imagine I even make the top ten), the second point is something that always bothered me. I had a pretty high profile blog in SL terms, I had been on speaking terms at one time or another, with many of the people who consider themselves the movers and shakers of SL society. As SL went, I was more known than not known, and found myself desiring to be less known as the days went by.

“We don’t know anything about her,” hardly seems congruent with the concept of being the most hated anything. Yet, that double-standard is common (and seems to be growing more common) in many of the people I encounter in virtual existences.

What this person was implying, of course, was that because I don’t put my personal information front and center, I lack credibility. But, why should that be? Because I keep my private life private and my RL identity as far as possible from my virtual identity, this somehow brings everything about Salome into question? This “she’s hiding, she can’t be trusted” mentality is most common, incidentally, in people I can’t stand.

The irony, of course, is that I don’t hide my RL identity from anyone that matters to me. There are quite a few friends in SL who have my name, phone number, mailing address, etc. They know details of my life, my work history, my family, pets, and personal relationships. They know, not because they deserve to know, or because I’m obligated to give them that information, but simply because I’ve chosen to let them in.

Our relationships are what we communicate to one another. If you are a person comfortable with physical interaction, you communicate better sitting across a table from your mates. I do not. I communicate better at a distance. I need space and quiet and solitude. And I need a lot of it. Space and solitude allows me to shed the impatience, irritations, and false sense of “needing to please” that comes with being face to face. I am a better friend the further away I am. My worst moments in life all stemmed from trying to be the type of social creature I was never intended to be. My belief system thus developed (in part) from the hard-earned wisdoms that come to us with growing older and learning that you cannot be true to anyone else without first being true to yourself. Put simply: when I meet my own emotional needs, I am better at meeting the emotional needs of others.

Nothing about my RL makes Salome any more or less credible. My reputation, for better or worse, is what I earn under any name. I’m not applying for a loan, I’m not interviewing for a job, I’m not selling shares in the Brooklyn Bridge. I blog about make-believe clothes and virtual living. I owe no one anything beyond my words and the name I chose to write them under. Anyone who feels owed something more than that is someone I tend to find I don’t need in my life.

Part of the reason I loathe the entire facebook/myspace movement is because they have devalued privacy for an entire generation. Attention is now currency, and personal privacy merely a casualty of the “look at me, pay attention to me” war. It has reached the point where those types (and it’s always the same types) who clamor for attention all over the place go beyond discarding their own rights of privacy. They now feel obligated to the information of others. The act of being private equates to something suspect in their minds. I consider this to be a terrifying reality that will need to be faced down by right to privacy crusaders in the courtrooms of future generations. I’m also well aware that most of the people that I see as dangerous in this respect would find my values to be outdated and embarrassingly silly.

They have a point. I am a throwback. I do not come from “open book” people. I grew up in a house where I had the right, even as a young child, to close and lock my door if I so wished; I didn’t dare enter anyone else’s room without knocking and being granted permission first. I was raised with the understanding that asking people personal questions was rude – you waited for others to share if they chose, and you were free to share if you chose. I was taught to respect the fact that we all have bad days, dark moments in our histories, and times when life can treat us unkindly. Moreover, I was taught that some people simply require more peace and quiet than others. Far from stuffy, I’ve always considered my formative years to be rather liberal and empowering. My imagination, my ability to love and communicate, my sense of humor — none of those things were stifled by the lessons on virtues of privacy and dignity.

I often wonder if this gratification via exposure hinders creativity in the general population. It certainly seems to take a toll on the logic center of their brains. With so much energy spent grandstanding and keeping in constant touch with the hum, is there any need to distinguish one’s self with, you know, merit? All this interfacing more often than not stops at the most shallow level possible. The insipid back-and-forth of valueless topics, the frivolous drama — it all takes a toll. For some of us, it takes too much of a toll. In order to deal with those people who seem to be in constant need of attention, buzzing about like happy hummingbirds, pushing their feelings and their thoughts and their agendas toward us, some of us need more than just occasional solitude. Some of us need to detox from society in general. And those of us who are not hummingbirds do not owe our bustling cousins anything.

So if you are one of those people who feels that you’re owed someone else’s personal information, or that you have a right to demand someone’s time, or that you deserve an explanation beyond anything that’s been offered to you, allow me to lay out some information that your parents should have imparted:

1. You’re entitled to no part of another person that isn’t offered to you freely;
2. When someone needs space, unless you are in a life partnership with them or writing their prescriptions they don’t need your permission to take a sabbatical;
3. If you don’t understand 1 & 2, repeat them over and over until you get the fuck over yourself and it sinks in.