Against Gatekeeping
what is the media so afraid of?
For twenty years or so, I have made my personal email available on my website. The same email used by family members, the gas company, and spam mills.
People send me questions all the time. They often hear back. For questioners, my website has a link to “buy me a coffee.” It is routinely ignored. I usually—not always—reply anyway.
People wonder, “Don’t you hear from a lot of crazies?”
Hardly ever. Here is a secret: Hostility does not believe in itself—it just wants an audience.
People who vent over social media virtually never write to me, even though my attention is near-guaranteed; even though a personal reply—if they conduct themselves reasonably—is likely.
Because—they do not believe what they are saying. They simply wish to position themselves with authority and attract negative appreciation.
Why do so many authors, journalists, politicians, and media personas make themselves difficult to reach?
I ask that not rhetorically but earnestly. I already know what they tell themselves: I’ll get buried. For the reasons I cite, they are wrong. So—what do they really think?
I think it is fear and lack of accountability, in many cases at least.
Now, some limits must exist. I do not, for example, post my text, which must be available for urgencies and, unfortunately, political campaign solicitations.
I used to post my work number and would occasionally get tiresome calls—perhaps there exist no other kind in the twenty-first century.
And, of course, I do not expect mega-celebrities to post their contact information for obvious reasons.
An important note: anyone who has experienced harassment is, of course, exempt from what I propose.
But many people in media, especially legacy media, which has a tradition of distance, can afford to. Indeed, in our era of mistrust, they cannot afford otherwise.
In my forthcoming book Esoterika, I write:
That is human nature: obliviousness of debt, impact, and what has been granted. This is why Gurdjieff threw out letters requesting advice but without significant contributions. And why you should too. Even if I cannot. I am trying.
I have changed my mind—or rather my emotions—on this matter. Even when people ignore the damn coffee link, I will, if they are reasonably brief, reply and do so with heartfelt concern.
It is my way.
Though I will note: you have a different relationship with things you pay for versus those you do not. I think the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (1911-2008), founder of Transcendental Meditation, understood this. His aim was meeting Westerners where they live—offering a simple, transformative method, which costs roughly the same as a few sessions of therapy.
Cries of calumny toward this fee arrangement reveal what the complainers value: not meditating, not effort, not giving. Something else. Something along the lines of why people who wish to levy a protest, or ostensibly so, rarely if ever use my email.
I am often touched by readers’ testimonies and questions. Sometimes their stories or conflicts find their way into my books.
Without this personal exposure to the public (social media is not personal), I would not know what people are really thinking, or would know less of it.
Not infrequently, a sincere question challenges my capacity to respond. And then I am reminded of the truth of the situation: we are all seekers, we are all struggling, and, critically, we are—in my work—doing so together.
That, above all, is what unites us.
I was so touched when you answered my email question. Worth far more than a coffee.
Nice timing.7:27