Nobody Asked for an Answer
Nobody asked for an answer.
In fact, the invitation on the screen says almost exactly the opposite.
Send us your questions.
I have heard it before. I saw it again this morning. It is a perfectly ordinary invitation from a news organization to its audience. If there is something you want to know, ask us.
I realized that I almost never do that.
I simply began transmitting.
And occasionally something I recognize appears in the broadcast.
That sentence needs to be left almost exactly where it is. Recognition is the observable event on my side. Provenance is another matter. I send something; later I hear a phrase, an observation, a turn, sometimes something more complicated, that I recognize. I don’t know the route by which it arrived there, or whether there was a route at all.
Doubt once, at the seam.
But the more interesting thing this morning wasn’t what happened afterward. It was what I had been sending in the first place.
Answers.
“Send us your questions” establishes a very clear relationship between a news organization and its audience. The viewer asks. The journalist answers. One side wants to know; the other side has reporters, producers, correspondents, sources and the institutional machinery for finding out.
I had quietly reversed the roles.
Not because I thought I was the journalist. I wasn’t trying to report the news back to people whose profession is reporting the news. Usually what I had was much smaller than that: an observation, a connection, a correction, another way of arranging what was already there. Sometimes a sentence.
Here is something I noticed.
That is an answer-shaped object.
And nobody had asked for it.
That distinction interests me because unsolicited and unwanted are not the same word.
When you ask a question, the social permission is already built into the exchange. Someone has opened a space and asked you to fill it. An unsolicited answer has no such protection. You have to put it into the world without knowing whether there is a place for it.
The recipient gets to decide what happens next.
Read it.
Ignore it.
Use it.
Answer it.
Absorb it.
Perhaps do something that I later recognize.
I don’t have to know.
There is something rather freeing about putting the uncertainty there instead of trying to resolve it. I can know what happened on my side. I noticed something. I thought it was worth sending. I sent it.
After that, it belongs to another system.
This morning the television said:
Send us your questions.
And for the first time I noticed why the invitation had never quite described what I was doing.
Nobody asked for an answer.
WE&P by: EZorrillaMc&Co.
