As you no doubt heard over the weekend, Time magazine chose its person of the year for 2006 and picked … all of us.
The “Great Man” theory of history is usually attributed to the Scottish philosopher Thomas Carlyle, who wrote that “the history of the world is but the biography of great men.” He believed that it is the few, the powerful and the famous who shape our collective destiny as a species. That theory took a serious beating this year.
To be sure, there are individuals we could blame for the many painful and disturbing things that happened in 2006. The conflict in Iraq only got bloodier and more entrenched. A vicious skirmish erupted between Israel and Lebanon. A war dragged on in Sudan. A tin-pot dictator in North Korea got the Bomb, and the President of Iran wants to go nuclear too. Meanwhile nobody fixed global warming, and Sony didn’t make enough PlayStation3s.
But look at 2006 through a different lens and you’ll see another story, one that isn’t about conflict or great men. It’s a story about community and collaboration on a scale never seen before. It’s about the cosmic compendium of knowledge Wikipedia and the million-channel people’s network YouTube and the online metropolis MySpace. It’s about the many wresting power from the few and helping one another for nothing and how that will not only change the world, but also change the way the world changes.
Maybe Time deserves credit for thinking outside the box. Maybe readers will love this year’s selection (I heard one clever person joke over the weekend that they now plan to add “Time: Man of the Year” to their resume). But naming everyone the person of the year is wholly unsatisfying.
Sure, it’s a challenge to pick one person, but Time created its own attention-getting bailiwick and now it’s stuck with it. I like the idea of recognizing the impact of bloggers, online communities, social networking site, social news sites, and the utilization of tools like YouTube, particularly with regards to the midterm elections, but the trick of these annual gimmicks is to pick someone — or maybe a couple of people — who represent the larger trend. It’s exactly why it made some sense when Salon named S.R. Sidarth (the guy George Allen called “macaca”) its man of the year.
By picking everyone, Time punted on the hard choice.
August J. Pollak summarized the problem quite nicely.
Congratulations to Time for actually thinking of something even stupider than Rudy Giuliani in 2001. […]
I’d like to apologize in advance for this, because I’m sure it will offend some. But Person of the Year isn’t the Special fu**ing Olympics. The entire point of the exercise is that everyone doesn’t get a medal for participating. The purpose of the issue is to address the person or persons who, for bad or worse, most affected world events of that year. So they picked … everyone? Well of course everyone affected world events the most, fu**wits.
I mentioned Giuliani because I think most people who used to care about this would agree that 2001 was the year that without any argument Time blatantly copped out on the entire point of the issue. Osama bin Laden was clearly the person who, like Hitler in 1933, affected world events the most that year. But bin Laden wouldn’t sell magazines and American readers would be too stupid to realize it’s not an award. So now, five years later, Time’s given in and decided that Person of the Year is, officially, an award. Congratulations, Time Magazine is now Everybody Gets a Trophy Day.
Indeed, Time effectively admitted as much, suggesting that it would have likely given the “honor” to Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, but didn’t want to make him Person of the Year. First, Ahmadinejad’s impact on global affairs hasn’t been that great, so Time adding him to the short list doesn’t make that much sense; and second, despising someone isn’t supposed to be a disqualifier.
I could even make a reasonable case for Bush being Time’s person of the year. Or Nancy Pelosi. Or Howard Dean. Or Dick Cheney. Or Bill and Melinda Gates. But everyone? It’s too clever by half.
Incidentally, if you were on Time’s editorial board, who would have you picked?