Remember when ten years ago, if you wanted to stop being friends with someone you just stopped calling or writing and let your friendship die a slow, peaceful death?

Or, maybe you just actually (gasp!) called them and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like we’re friends anymore or we can be friends anymore, so I wish you well, but…”

I remember that time.

It was a time of courage.  A time where people had to stand by their actions and face the music by actually seeing the hurt they were inflicting staring back at them from someone’s eyes or hearing the pain they were causing resonate in a human voice.

Before un-friending, un-following, unsubscribing and blocking.

There’s an unspoken idea floating around in the social media and blogging world that now that everyone and their mom is online, somehow the rules of human behavior, shows of mutual respect and general courtesy have drastically changed.

My friends?  I submit that this notion is just amateur, and that deep down inside we all know it.

You know that little “what-if” game people play about traffic lights?

Would you cross a red light if there was absolutely no one around?

No.

What if you were hurt?

Probably not.

What if there was a woman in the car who was about to have a baby?

Yeah, okay, well.  Yes, then I would.

The game goes on and on until the person says yes with total conviction.

It’s an exercise in determining the limits of your own behavior.

And it’s not only fun, but extremely useful.

In those moments, when nobody is watching you and you don’t have to face up to any major consequences, the things you do matter the most.  Your deeds in those moments exist as unequivocal proof of who you really and truly are.

Are you kind because you’re afraid of being perceived by others as mean or are you a truly kind person?

That difference matters.  A lot.

Kindness and courage mean little if their employment depends upon the approval of others.  Then, they are simply the mirages of a person who has built their whole persona around the fickle opinions of other people.

And, in my opinion, that is not a very evolved way to live.

I will go so far as to say that your actions when you think no one else is watching reflect more about you than anything else.

I have seen people online say terrible things because they think nobody will notice or find out it was them.

Like call someone horrible names.

Like pontificate on the impending collapse of a marriage.

Like make fun of someone’s appearance, race, or beliefs.

Like say that someone is a bad parent or, worse, make fun of their children.

Like tell someone to go kill themselves.

Sometimes, these things are said under the guise of a pseudonym, but it doesn’t matter.

These words and actions are still who these people really truly are.  Even if nobody but them knows it, it doesn’t matter.  In fact, the use of a pseudonym just makes them more of a coward.

The Internet is not a free pass to be a jerk.

And, oh?  It is also not an excuse to take the easy way out of an offline relationship.

Online or offline, we are not acting in a vacuum.  Someone else is always being affected by our actions.  The fact that we no longer have to face a person while, during or after we’ve done something is completely inconsequential on the karmic balance sheet.

I’m also not saying here that you should never un-friend someone, un-follow or e-mail a goodbye.  I’m just saying that the rules of the Internet are not different than the rules of real life.

Some people deserve an explanation, some do not.  Carefully consider who falls into which category.  And, personally, when in doubt, I believe it’s always best to just pick up the phone or stop by at their place.  But, I have a pesky little admiration for courageous behavior.

The Internet, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter and the like are not a separate worlds where we get to say and do whatever we want without fully acknowledging the potential harm of our words.

They are part of the world we live in.

We are accountable on every level.

Even if it is only to ourselves.