Not too long ago, I had a conversation with my friend Neil about whether people -- not any particular people, but people in general -- are generally good or generally bad. My argument is that as much as we like to think of people as generally good, they really aren't. I pointed out how many roommates -- which could be taken as a random sampling of the population -- have been horrors, and added as strictly anecdotal evidence that our friend John has also had remarkable bad luck with roommates.

"Well, roommates generally suck," Neil agreed, but in a manner that implied that they're really the exception to the rule.

I then cited Internet chat rooms and message boards as further evidence, pointing out how often people use the mask of anonymity and the assumption of geographical distance as opportunities to say astoundingly antagonistic things to each other, for little to no reason. (Typical [and actual] example: Poster #1 says, "I liked this movie," and poster #2 immediately replies, "that's because you're an idiot.") Neil posited that the Internet is probably not an accurate reflection of humanity, since said anonymity and geographical safety from their targets tend to make people bolder than they would otherwise be, but I disagree with Neil's conclusion; if all it takes is the thought "this guy doesn't even know who I am, and even if he did, he can't get to me" to make someone comfortable with cruelly and needlessly insulting somebody, then I don't see how that isn't a reflection of that person's humanity -- and I would argue that the fact this happens so insanely often is a reflection of humanity in general.

I also pointed out how the culture of the automobile has allowed the concept of road rage to evolve from the rare, news-worthy occurrence, to an everyday term. I can't remember the last time I drove somewhere where I didn't hear somebody lean on the horn furiously at somebody (no, not necessarily me every time), and as for more extreme forms of road rage -- well, I've been the victim of a road rage stalker, and so has my sister. And as for even more extreme forms of road rage . . . well, is anybody really shocked anymore when they hear or read about someone who was attacked or even killed by an angry driver? We disapprove, yes, but as a society, we haven't been shocked by such events in a long time; they're just too commonplace to maintain our shock, or even, sometimes, our interest. Happens all the time.

And while we're on the topic of driving, think about how many times you've had to slam on your brakes because some idiot zoomed in front of you just to move ahead in the line by one car space, just to catch that one traffic light only to stop at the next one a block away. It's no overstatement to observe that plenty of drivers routinely choose to risk their lives rather than allow fellow motorists the slightest bit of courtesy -- and if you think that's an exaggeration, just take a moment to reflect on what had happened if you had been just a bit slower to slam on that brake when you got cut off the other day. Maybe they didn't deliberately weigh the potential consequences of cutting you off, but on some level, that driver did make a concious decision that, given the choice between letting you drive safely and risking a serious accident so they can cut you off, yes, it's worth the potential carnage.

Neil admitted that too many drivers "become different people" behind the wheel, but for me, this is too similar to the "not a true reflection of that person's humanity" argument. They become different people? No, not literally. What we really mean when we say this is that people let loose a different (perhaps usually hidden) side of their personality behind the wheel. When viewed at in this light, a person's rude and overly aggressive behavior while driving is very much a reflection of that person's humanity. That may not be how they behave with their coworkers or families, but give a person that same dual protection of anonymity (because who really writes down licence plates on a regular basis?) and distance (by the time you have a chance to emotionally recover from most road ragers, the culprit is long gone), and people realize, just as they do online, that they can get away with horrific behavior.

That's what it's all about. I almost said that people feel that they have an excuse, but the sad thing is, Internet trolls and road ragers don't even feel the need for excuses, all they need is the chance to get away with their behavior, and they routinely indulge in acts of random cruelty.

And make no mistake, use of the word "cruelty" is by no means an exaggeration. Random name-calling online, or shouts of "hey asshole!" from passing cars are bad enough, but I've seen far worse. I can't tell you how many times I've visited online depression support groups and found anonymous users encouraging people to kill themselves. I cringe at how easily and quickly even the most minor disagreements on the IMDb can degenerate into people insulting each other's intelligence. And God help us all with any chat room or message board involving politics or religion, and how much they're filled with messages from people who enthusiastically declare how everyone who disagrees with them is worthy of death and Hell. (Again, I assure you, this is no exercise in exaggeration, I see this all the time.)

While I am touched by Neil's faith in humanity, it also saddens me a little bit. By the time the discussion with Neil was reaching an end, I pointed out to him that I had provided not one but several different ways to observe how people behave cruelly to each other on a routine basis, and he had more or less dismissed every one as being unimportant for various reasons. Why did this disturb me? I guess because I agree with Andrew Delbanco when he said, "the line between explanation and excuse is always a thin one."

Maybe this is a part of our problem. It's one thing for Neil to forgive people out of his generosity of spirit. But the problem is when we, as a society, come to not only expect such behavior, but even to explain it away -- because Delbanco is right, the result is too often a blurring of that line between explanation and excuse -- right when we need explanations the most and excuses the least. Yes, it might be important to understand why we do what we do. But once we start excusing unacceptable behavior, we serve only to perpetuate it.