On why you are full of shit.

A lot's been said in recent times about the corrosive nature of the internet on reasonable debate and argument. Some social platforms can turn what once might've been a cordial disagreement into a horror show of insults and violent threats. One minute someone's generously offering to make everyone in the office a cup of PG Tips, the next they're threatening to rape Mary Beard to death in a car park cause she had the gall to suggest there should be a woman on the new 20 pound note, or whatever. Not as much is said about how we behave on social platforms when we're not fighting like cats in a sack. How we are there with our friends, not just our enemies.

In The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, long before the advent of the internet and social media, the sociologist Erving Goffman developed a theory of social interaction called dramaturgical analysis. He studied how we behave around each other in context – dependent on time, place and our audience - as if we're taking part in a theatrical performance. A performance principally concerned with projecting and protecting an idealised image of our self – our 'face'. His concept of 'face' was taken further by Penelope Brown and Stephenson Levinson in their development of Politeness Theory. In all our interactions – so the theory goes – our conceptual face is potentially under threat and we mitigate this with each other by adopting various politeness strategies according to the power relation, closeness and rank of the interacterants. They identified several types of strategy but the principle ones they coined positive and negative politeness. Politeness Theory says we have a positive and negative 'face' and positive politeness is concerned with protecting our self image and creating a connection with other people. The negative 'face' is concerned with our need and desire for autonomy and independence. Our politeness, which hovers over almost all of our social interactions, navigates between these two faces.

Positive politeness includes the use of colloquialisms, and other linguistic group identifiers, negative is more formal. Positive will exaggerate personal compliments, negative will tend to avoid the personal.

Positive speakers include themselves in any advice - 'if I was making the tea, I wouldn't put the milk in first...' Negative will generalise - 'what normally happens is you put the tea in first then the milk.' Ordepersonalise - 'people usually don't shit in a bin'

The positive will be optimistic - 'oh, I think I'll come along to that party you didn't invite me to'. Negative will be pessimistic - 'You'd probably rather go on your own, but I'd really like to see Phil Collins's farewell tour.'

Negative will acknowledge the imposition in any request - 'would you mind awfully taking that jackboot off my neck?' Positive will assume it's okay to ask.

Joking, in this theory, is a strategy of positive politeness.

The use of the words positive and negative is a problem in all this because it suggests one being good and the other bad but it's more about alignment than anything else. Positive politeness might seem pushy and intrusive to an unreceptive negative polite person, the latter will seem aloof and indifferent to the former. This might explain why the class divide is difficult to bridge in our culture. The English working class tend towards positive politeness and the middle class to the negative. Which could be why the working class are more likely to prize loyalty and tribalism (which might be considered good if you're in the tribe, not so much if you're not)

while a lot of the middle class are more likely to fuck each other over as soon as look at each other. It's every man for himself out there.

But all of this analysis of human interaction was pre-internet. How has social media influenced it, or vice versa? How do we fit these strategies into this relatively new medium of interaction?

It's a statement of the obvious that on social media we project an idealised image of our self – our face - but in Politeness Theory the interlocutors adapt their strategies according to those various factors - power, closeness and rank – and our conceptual face changes according to time, place and audience. All these factors are easy to ascertain in person, or easier anyway. Online things get more confused.

Online the time is permanent. A cheeky quip over a pint is one thing, a permanent record of the same quip can prevent you from getting some job a year or more later.

The space can determine what's taboo, what can and cannot be said in given circumstances. Online space is intangible, it's everywhere and nowhere. The space feels private but it's actually public and we adapt our personas accordingly (or don't and trigger some sensitive soul over an off hand remark).

The rank, closeness, power relation and status is indefinable because, online, you're not speaking to someone, you're, potentially, speaking to everyone. So it's no surprise then that people online tend to project an ideal that conforms, that avoids risk at all costs. Mediocrity is the safest option.

It raises the question of whether anyone online is really authentic, whether those 'friends' are really friends at all. 'A friend to all is a friend to none' as Aristotle once posted on his Grecian twitter feed. But judging this is pointless as, online or not, we do this all the time. Our 'face' changes from audience to audience, it's just that, usually, people don't see you changing your face to fit other people because they're not there to see your different performance. Online we're always there. And whether adopting positive or negative politeness strategies a degree of deception and manipulation is almost always involved.

When we communicate online it tends to be with the strategies of positive politeness. We're usually seeking to have a self image affirmed and also we (or a lot of people) use it with the hope of connecting. Those 'likes' and shares stroke the ego and you appreciate it when someone does it. It's someone else saying 'I agree with you' or 'I'm like that' or 'I appreciate you', whoever you are.

And the platforms themselves mitigate for the potential imposition negative politeness tries to minimise. You don't, after all, have to read and respond. There's usually no inherent obligation involved because while you're potentially speaking to everyone, you're also speaking to no-one.

Maybe that's why the positive politeness can sometimes seem extreme. Now, when someone wants you to sign a petition the 'tell your friends' request doesn't even tell you what it's for. It just says 'Can you help Barry?' What kind of unfriendly, aloof bastard would you be to not help Barry? Or Sandra will post about how kids with cancer is bad, 'press share if you agree'. If you don't press share then, not only do you obviously think kids with cancer is not bad - you insensitive fuckstick, but you've personally insulted Sandra. Bastard.

If you're generally a negative polite person all of this can seem intrusive and threatening so you might choose to not bother with online communication at all.

If you're a positive politeness person who doesn't want to modify their face as required by the medium then you might choose to not bother with online communication at all.

If you've got sick of data mining companies sifting through the data provided by the mediocre projection of your better self and selling it to the highest bidder, you might choose to not bother with online communication at all.

So it's no wonder that more and more people are disengaging from social platforms and re-engaging more with the real world. Particularly the young. But what if, when we come back, we're so unused to trying to connect in the blood and guts real world of human interaction we all just hide behind the safer, less emotionally risky strategy of negative politeness? A world where more people have returned to earth but they'd still rather remain separate, unobtrusive, and disconnected. We might have forgotten how to connect back here.

364 days of the year telling people they're twats but on the night before Christmas....

We might be better off throwing out the strategies of politeness altogether. The psychologist Brad Blanton is the developer of a self improvement system known as Radical Honesty. Blanton suggests that the lying and deceit in most human interaction is the cause of huge stress and illness and advocates practitioners of radical honesty being, well, radically honest. Bluntly and directly telling the truth, to everyone, all the time, like in that shit Ricky Gervais film. Your boss is being an unreasonable dick - tell them that's what you think. How was the food? I didn't like it. You want to sleep with someone, tell them and tell your husband.

This would probably cause an increase in divorce, people being fired from their jobs and being punched in the face. But, Blanton claims, adopting his approach is the best way to create intimacy between people and make us, in the end, happier. It's worth noting that he thinks when expressing something controversial that it's best to do this in person – face to face – so you can feel the sensation of expressing it yourself in the company of the person you're being honest with and you can work through the feelings that might bubble or erupt as a result. It goes without saying clicking 'like' or posting a furious face emoticon on Facebook is never going to cut it. Maybe, in doing this, you'll find yourself and the other person taking off your masks and seeing each other as you actually are.

I know, it's a terrifying idea isn't it?

But I will if you will.

Though you first, I insist