This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2017, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

One of the reasons I like writing — especially when it comes to hotly debated issues — is that only one person gets to "talk" at a time.

Expressing something in writing is not like participating in town hall meetings, political protests, talk shows or explaining to an irate woman why there's a ferret in the heating ducts. Opposing points of view in those cases are exchanged simultaneously and at full volume.

Person One: "And that's why I think we should—"

Everyone Else: "Oh, that's, HEY!, finances, not true, illegal, Russian spy, hijo de la, shut, Congress, and your mother, preposterous, blow it out your, taxes, #$@&!, Republican over …"

Part of my feeling about this kind of behavior stems from an aversion to large gatherings of human beings. I believe the more people there are in one spot, the lower the collective IQ becomes. Some groups of people are so large that the IQ number comes with a minus sign in front.

People who exchange written views take turns. There's no interruption. A person named Ralph might write at length about global warming and nobody shouts obscenity-laced contradictions while he's doing it.

By email, it still takes at least a few respectful seconds to get back an opposing point of view, even one framed around the idea of Ralph having congress with a mule.

It's one of the reasons why I avoid public demonstrations. No matter how peaceful they start out, someone eventually gets carried away and the mob follows. Then the yelling starts.

Things never get better with yelling. That's because yelling easily segues into throwing stuff. It can go from chanting "The president is a &$%#@" to catching a 37mm gas grenade with your face in under a minute.

Just because writing has less potential for violence doesn't mean that the person doing it is any smarter than a doorknob.

Lots of writers, including me, have all the intellectual prowess of bellybutton lint. It's just that we prefer our conflict to be orderly and quiet. That's why we rarely see mobs made up of writers smashing open shops and burning cars.

The Writers Guild of America stopped Hollywood in its tracks on two occasions in the past 30 years. Although writers and supporters waved signs and gathered in public protest, it never got to the point of blocking sidewalks, throwing things or burning coffee shops.

Note: The mere idea of writers destroying a Starbucks is every bit as ironic as anti-abortion supporters killing in protest.

This is not to say that public protesting isn't completely pointless, only that it's potentially dangerous to the cause being supported. Screaming and yelling might get you on TV, but there's no evidence that it automatically works to your advantage.

If you don't like the president — and many don't — that's OK. I'm only saying that it's hard to be taken seriously if the takeaway from your feelings is just a news clip of your teeth and straining uvula.

People who might have normally been inclined to listen aren't going to if what they see are tantrums worthy of a 3-year-old, or if they're forced to walk an extra six blocks to get to work because you formed a human chain.

I think calm and rational dialogue between opposing points of view is essential. No screaming, no rage, throwing stuff, or forcing cops to play Whac-a-Mole.

It works. It's how I've stayed married, employed and un-clubbed as long as I have while protesting everything from the forced neutering of rats to how much oxygen a politician requires to just stay alive.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.