If Only There Were A Button...

I did not plan to write this. I planned to sit quietly in the back of a car on the way to the airport, zoning out like a responsible adult. Instead, my driver decided the ride was an emergency town hall meeting, and it was his turn to take the podium.

For forty minutes he delivered a monologue about how civilization is teetering on the edge, citing sources that included “common sense,” “everyone knows,” and “you can look it up.” The list of culprits included Democrats, trans people, Black Lives Matter, lawyers, the medical establishment, immigration, Cardi B, California, and a surprising grudge against Taco Bell. At one point, I realized this was not a conversation. This was a hostage situation.

When he didn't take the hint that I wanted him to stop, I began fantasizing about a single button that could deliver my feedback instantly and universally. A less-than-polite but clear reminder that not every thought needs to escape someone’s mouth.

This essay is about that button.

I have reached a stage in life where my most fervent innovation idea is not a flying car or a universal cure for disease. It is a button. On social media, on our phones, on our TVs, everywhere that humans feel compelled to share a thought. Labeled, quite plainly, STFU.

The world has made astonishing advances in communication technology, all seemingly designed to give people more places to express themselves. There are now millions who wake up every morning determined to share their opinions on everything from the geopolitics in Uganda to whether lizard-people have infiltrated the government. Some insist there’s a secret branch of physics that “proves” the Earth is flat. Others claiming sunscreen causes athlete's foot.

These are often the same people who believe cultural sophistication comes from a weekend at an outlet mall and whose medical expertise is based on a cousin who once shadowed a dental hygienist for half a day.

This is precisely why a simple “thumbs-down” no longer feels adequate. Thumbs-down is something you reserve for a mediocre talent-show performance, not for someone connecting the price of eggs to whatever Taylor Swift is doing. The STFU button would give us a necessary midpoint between polite indifference and the desire to throw your phone into a lake.

Because the problem is not just your uncle posting conspiracy theories from a basement full of expired canned goods. The loudest offenders are often the ones paid to share their certainty.

The STFU button would certainly apply to presidents, cabinet officials, and politicians, and to cable news hosts and guests who shout for a living as if the fate of the nation depends on their volume.

It should also cover sports analysts for whom the entire meaning of life can be traced to a tight end’s hamstring injury, billionaires convinced that their bank account qualifies them to explain humanity, and business leaders who congratulate themselves for caring about workers, provided those workers do not ask for things like time off or oxygen.

This includes the well-known Wall Street bankers who deliver “back in my day” speeches about returning to the office while ensuring their young employees can’t afford to live anywhere near it.

There are the inane podcasters opining about the structural flaws of food stamp programs, pausing only to plug tickets for their next MMA cage match. The 20-year-old fraternity bros who learned about feminism last week but are now ready to present their findings to Congress. And the “wellness” gurus selling mushroom dust that promises you will live longer than the Galápagos turtles.

There are others, of course:

• The crypto evangelists who claim getting rich is easy while asking their mom for gas money.
• Former high-school classmates now offering bold new strategies for nuclear disarmament, despite barely passing sophomore history.
• TikTok life-coaches who record every moment of their “quiet morning routine.”
• Adults who explain science by beginning with “As a parent…”
• Tech wizards convinced the only thing standing between us and utopia is their app that is still in beta.
• The CEO who calls himself a visionary for finding new ways to cut payroll.

Some voices would break the button.

And yes, I fully acknowledge that such a button would almost certainly be used on me. I write essays like this one. Occasionally, I have a thought that is misguided or tedious or simply too long for anyone to care about. I am prepared to accept a STFU now and then. Democracy, after all, demands sacrifice.

The idea is not to silence the world. It is to restore a baseline of sanity. A friendly reminder that not every passing notion should be broadcast to billions. Sometimes the greatest contribution a person can make to society is to be quiet. Say nothing.

If someone would just add that button, I promise to listen more. Or at least hit mute on myself occasionally. Everyone wins that way.