“I have a problem with people being sensitive f***s. Do I have white pride? F*** yeah I do… Do I think Adolf Hitler was a genuinely good person? F*** no. But I also don't give a shit if someone does… Don't be such a sensitive and defenseless person.”

It started out pretty simple. A friend of mine—a nice enough guy in high school—posted a picture of the Confederate flag on his timeline. I commented on his post. And then we came to the classic standoff: the liberty-centered conservative commenting on “un-American” identity politics and limits to freedom of speech vs. the “edgy white liberal” challenger.

Unfortunately, the conversation continued on and on and on until it ended up obeying Godwin’s Internet Law: “As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches one.”

And, finally, we arrived at the not-so-pretty paragraph above, written by a friend of a friend, whom I had never met before.

Facebook arguments can end up that way sometimes. A provocative post leads to a flurry of mini-paragraph arguments in the comment section. By the end, you throw up your hands, look to the ceiling, and scream: “How does Jimmy from high school really believe that the number one issue from the ‘gay lobby’ is instituting mandatory abortions for all women except Muslims and/or illegal immigrants?!” And then you move on with your day.

I think that’s why only a few people bother to contribute to comment threads, while a silent majority of hundreds of friends and friends of friends read without ever adding their thoughts to the mix. To the many who don’t contribute, the few that engage often seem too impassioned and angry, wasting their time discussing serious issues on such a useless forum. On this campus, there is a pretty general consensus on that point: Facebook arguments are awkward and unproductive. It’s something you passionately get wrapped into, resulting in a waste of time. If you’re smart, you avoid them altogether. Other forums are better suited for high-level debates.

But where are the better forums for these discussions on campus? At Harvard, students and administrators always speak of creating “inclusive” and safe spaces to “engage meaningfully” in “productive dialogue.” In practice, I don’t know what the hell that even means. And I don’t think the administration really knows either.

Is section a magical place like that? Well, a lot of students are too bored or too shy to speak up in section. And, besides that, different class topics tend to attract different people with similar viewpoints, making section more of an echo chamber than a discussion section. Outside of section, you’re likely hanging out with a close group of friends, who probably share the same viewpoints.

Let me ask then: What if these magical spaces have been with us all along, hiding on our web browsers’ other open tab?

Here’s what makes Facebook debates special: Unlike more hectic online forums, it has a natural regulatory body—your friends. Whenever you post, you know that people you interact with every day can see what you’ve written. This peer pressure usually maintains a floor of civility and intelligence. So, Facebook discussions are close enough among your friends (especially at Harvard) to avoid the Nazi comparisons…most of the time. Yet, they are broad enough to go beyond the dining hall, since distant friends and friends of friends can participate.

There are other benefits to Facebook-talking too. Unlike an oral argument, people can take more time to think through and edit their points. And unlike a written article or column, there’s a real-time back-and-forth that allows arguments to progress farther in a shorter amount of time.

So, oddly enough, the cesspool of data, cat videos, porn, and Yahoo Answers known as the Internet has accidentally spawned a debate platform that combines peer-review, live debate, and social interaction. These debates allow us to hear perspectives from distant friends and strangers. They allow us to express our own views. They spark conversations that continue outside of Facebook. And they allow us to gauge where people stand in our community—whether that’s at Harvard or among our friends from home.

Sure, it’s not perfect, especially since only a few of the more vocal people on campus usually engage in these debates. But if we were to stop speaking about Facebook arguments as if they are all unproductive wastes of time, then more voices would feel comfortable participating and the conversations would improve.

We shouldn’t think of these discussions as awkward. Rather, we should look to them as opportunities to challenge our own perspectives and articulate our views. We have the tools of the 21st century at our disposal. Now let’s use them to make a better democracy.

And, if you still disagree with my perspective, share your view on my Facebook timeline. I’d love to talk about it there.

Dashiell F. Young-Saver ’16, a Crimson editorial writer, is an English concentrator in Winthrop House. His column appears on alternate Thursdays.