The Lost Art Of Civility: What The Nara Smith Backlash Says About Us

There was a time when basic politeness was the price of entry into public discourse. You didn’t speak unless you had something kind, helpful, or, at the very least, constructive to say. Even when there is disagreement, the debate of ideas has been the longstanding tradition and foundation of civilization. But scroll through any viral post today, and you’ll find a different world. A world filled with faceless users who fire off criticisms, sarcasm, and unsolicited life advice with zero hesitation. The comment section has become the modern-day Roman colosseum, and increasingly, no post is safe. There’s something undeniably jarring about watching a tender moment get torn apart in real time. One minute, a woman is announcing the gift of a new life. Next, strangers are analyzing her family planning, her face, her tone, her values, as if she were a policy debate, not a human being. As if her personal choices were a group project for strangers to work on. That’s exactly what happened when Nara Smith shared her fourth pregnancy announcement on social media this week. In true Nara fashion, her post evoked a kind of beauty that feels rare in our cynical age. It was calm, gentle, and understated. A simple video. No fanfare. Just a soft message that life is growing inside of her again. And yet, the comment section could hardly contain itself. Some accused her of “pushing a baby every year,” others mocked her lifestyle as “performative” or “regressive,” and still others tore apart her appearance or voice. These weren’t critiques rooted in concern or curiosity, just reflexive rudeness disguised as opinion. The Rise of Rudeness as a Personality Trait We've normalized bluntness, but we've forgotten its cost and its place. There’s a difference between honesty and unkindness. Yes, sometimes you may need to tell your sister that mint green is not her color; but other times, you may just need to let your sister enjoy her favorite mint green top. There is a big difference between sharing your perspective and imposing it on someone else. The comments aimed at Nara weren’t insightful or constructive. They were reflexive, mean-spirited, and frankly unnecessary. We’ve come to believe that being “real” means being harsh, and that tact is a sign of fakeness or weakness. Many confuse bluntness with bravery, forgetting that it takes far more strength to hold your tongue than to type out a cheap jab. Social media, which once promised connection, now rewards provocation and this is eroding our cultural standard of decency. Many confuse bluntness with bravery, forgetting that it takes far more strength to hold your tongue than to type out a cheap jab. And isn’t that the point of manners? Not to fake niceness, but to acknowledge that just because you can say something doesn’t mean you should . Perhaps where we’ve gotten lost is in differentiating people’s personal lives and politics or policy. For example, I can often be found in the comment section of news outlets reading how people feel about a particular topic, interested by which comments get the most likes, and adding my two cents. That is public discourse and while sometimes it can get heated, I think it is fair play. But when it comes to people sharing their personal lives, it's much different and the fact that they're celebrities does not make their life choices open subjects to tear down. Nara’s pregnancy announcement was met with mean remarks, accusations of being a "trad wife cult leader," and unsolicited warnings about having "too many kids too soon." The jabs at her appearance and lifestyle seemed to be more of a political debate. One in which we reject the life she has as if it was being imposed on us. There is a recurring suggestion that her femininity is somehow dangerous or manipulative, as if she was simply a propaganda machine and not a person. Case Studies: Nara Smith, Ambar Driscoll, and Emily Kiser It’s not just Nara, though. It’s everywhere. A few months ago influencer Ambar Driscoll posted her much anticipated wedding photos and the comment section went wild with people criticizing her wedding dress. Why would Ambar pick a dress that pleased the masses over a dress that she simply liked? Nonsense. And then there is the sad situation of Emily Kiser whose son Trigg recently passed away due to a drowning accident. Understandably, Emily turned off the comments on her account as people started commenting cruel remarks such as “they’ll get a divorce” and “that pool didn’t have a gate around.” Emily also filed a lawsuit in Arizona after people were requesting access to the 911 call and even more information about the night of the accident. Someone close to Emily Kiser told People’s Magazine that while the influencer's "public profile does not negate her right to privacy," it also doesn't "make her son’s death a matter for public consumption." "Public agencies have received over 100+ public records requests for the footage of a toddler’s death, which only serves to satisfy morbid curiosity more than any type of justice." There is no reasonable justification to react with cruelty to these very personal moments. The good and the bad alike, have been met with a strange blend of hostility and entitlement. Somehow, we’ve arrived at a place where kindness is suspect, modesty is mocked, and voicing a rude opinion is mistaken for being “real.” There’s also something telling about who gets the most heat online. Women like Nara, who embody timeless, feminine values such as beauty, homemaking, softness, and motherhood, draw an outsized amount of criticism. Why? Because she chooses something many people have been taught to reject and furthermore have come to perceive as evil. When a woman embraces traditional roles with joy, it threatens the narrative that those roles are inherently oppressive. And so she must be taken down. Not by debate, but by mockery. Why Civility Still Matters The term civility is often associated with old school rules and manners, and perhaps it is this association with many things we now consider oppressive that the term itself seems outdated, but I truly believe that we need it now more than ever. Civility is not about repression, control, or being fake. It’s about preserving a social contract that makes social life harmonious. It's about allowing others their dignity, even if you don't agree with their choices. A society that forgets how to speak with respect will soon forget how to live with it, and that’s the train track we are on. A society that forgets how to speak with respect will soon forget how to live with it. We can’t afford to dismiss this as “just the internet.” The way we speak online spills into real life. It spills into how we treat others and how we treat ourselves. When manners disappear, so does trust, so does warmth, and eventually, so does our ability to live peacefully with people who are different from us. Respect isn’t optional. It’s the glue that holds society together. Bringing Manners Back What if we decided, collectively, that beauty and the precious and personal life choices like children, a wedding dress, or a personal tragedy should be protected instead of mocked? What if we honored moments of life, like pregnancy, marriage, or homemaking, with silence if not with celebration? What if we remembered that having an opinion doesn’t mean we have to share it? Especially when it is hurtful and unhelpful. There’s no need to start a campaign. No need to comment back. Just start with yourself. Scroll past posts you don’t like without a word. Wish people well, even if you wouldn’t make the same choices. And when you see a woman announcing her pregnancy, maybe just say “Congratulations.” Or if her personal choice bothers you, check in with yourself as to why and say nothing at all. We are not better people because we voice every opinion. We are better when we know when to hold our tongue, protect someone’s joy, and walk away with grace. In a world that’s growing harsher by the day, choosing civility is a quiet rebellion. You don’t have to agree with everyone, but you do have to treat them like people. The comment section may never be pristine, but your corner of the internet can be. Let’s make dignity fashionable again.