#247: The Gossip Matrix

I’ve long been a conditional defender of gossip—don’t be cruel, petty, dishonest; otherwise have fun. I’ve written that gossip can help us figure out who we are and what we think, establish social mores, define group membership, sow intimacy. I’ve written (and said) many times that, above all, it’s more about us than about our subjects. This is the gossiper’s party line. But every once in a while I experience a day so charged with supposedly innocent gossip, so dense with jumping from friend to friend exchanging various takes and analysis, that by the end I feel a little depraved. In these cases, I think I’m hitting upon a different limit—a limit concerning volume, which, depending on the nature of the gossip, carries more abstract consequences than the basic karmic costs of being mean.

Much like cringe, gossip isn’t any one thing. It’s governed by different motives and changes character accordingly. Simple rules of engagement probably aren’t enough. Also like cringe, I’ve long suspected gossip could be mapped onto a matrix that might prove useful in moments of regret or paranoia. So after my last gossip hangover, I finally set out to make one.

I started by distinguishing types of gossip and landed on four: typical venting (e.g. I feel crazy), classic shit-talking (he’s crazy), agreement-seeking (that’s crazy, right?), and norm-exploration (is she crazy or am I?). I’m going to give these more official names in a second, but that’s where I started. Of course, all of these can co-occur, but each presents its own opportunities and risks.

The next step was to sort out what these types of gossip did and didn’t share. I noticed venting and shit-talking shared an emotional quality, while venting and agreement-seeking shared a validating (preserving) quality. On the other hand, agreement-seeking and norm-exploration seemed more information-based, while norm-exploring and shit-talking were more world-building (projection). Thus, the following axes were born:

I think of the x-axis as the axis of fuel (where gossip starts) and the y-axis as the axis of function (what gossip does).

Placing my four types of gossip in this matrix revealed more precise framings, so I gave them new names:

Sorry to keep using the word crazy!! I’m done now

Each of these gossip types are motivated by various desires (to disperse frustration, unease, shame, alienation) and pose different risks (becoming aggrieved, anxious, poisonous, hollow). Which is to say, the right amount can be useful and too much can be hazardous, which most of us have probably known but have perhaps chosen to ignore in pursuit of gossip euphoria. There’s also the universal gossip risk, which is to become untrustworthy—the sort of person who will disclose or discuss anything if they stand to benefit.

Here’s how the opportunities and costs settle up:

Importantly, all types can and often are “juicy,” which means they can all be a little competitive, even if not explicitly so

I’m particularly interested in the risks of alignment gossip, which is otherwise the most typically “noble” gossip type (although they all have their moments). I’ve felt this at times, while also being puzzled by it: the feeling that it’s possible to over-discuss something concerning an outside party, even if it feels motivated by an earnest desire to explore an idea or norm. I think this is an internal alarm bell that I’m treating personal information as a kind of currency to connect.

Stabilizing gossip and alignment gossip are very similar with a slight distinction: the former is more closed off, in search of a specific, self-gratifying answer. I think we can all sense when our gossip takes on this character, and the risks feel distinct, too. To over-stabilize is to become stuck, anxiously trying to refashion ambiguity into clearer terms. The people who try to claim gossip is inherently good or bad are falling into this trap.

Now for some examples. Let’s say you’re in a group chat prone to breeding side-texts due to one particularly annoying person named Prudence (sorry to the two subscribers I have named Prudence). Here’s where four examples of Prudence shit-talk might fall on the matrix:

Please note all examples here and below were made extra snarky for impact!!

One underlying aspect of the matrix I find interesting is the not-uncommon tactic of someone trying to present one type as another. For instance, since most people understand on some level that it’s often healthier to, say, try to align than to compete, some might try to reframe competitive gossip as alignment gossip: I worry Prudence’s use of AI is inhibiting her critical thinking. On the internet this is called concern trolling.

Concern trolling happens to be a popular tactic with moms of a certain age and provenance—a quality ironically beloved by (some of) their millennial children. Cliche “Mom gossip” is the funniest, thus had to be matrixed, and while the below examples don’t sound exactly like my own mom, I can picture the mother who’d say them perfectly (and I love her):

Work gossip, meanwhile, does much heavier lifting. Dear Danny listeners will recall our passion for work gossip and its bolstering potential (although I don’t necessarily endorse being this bitchy):

Sam and Denise here remind me that what one might call “survival gossip”—the whisper networks that aim to warn and protect—probably falls under alignment. This sort of gossip tries to make sense of the world and influence others, and carries all the same risks and (mainly) rewards as other types of alignment gossip.

Celebrity gossip is my final matrix, and the examples are so plentiful it felt impossible to choose four. However, I knew I was morally obligated to include making fun of John Mulaney’s jaw, gossip for which I am personally liable. While I’ll take accountability for this veering into competitive gossip territory, I do believe it’s motivated by a genuine desire to build consensus that it’s tragic to so spectacularly fail to see yourself, thus my choice to label it stabilizing. (I do wish the best for John.)

I almost did an entire matrix about the Wicked press tour but thought better of it. Maybe you should though?

So there we have it: my intrepid taxonomy of gossip. I hope you found it useful for determining when and why gossip makes you feel a little green in the face. When I reflect on how I specifically gossip, I think I’ve understood the above-stated risks subconsciously and have tended to steer myself away from them through qualifying and reframing, but my various hangovers have proven that sometimes gossip is just gossip, and it can be more honest to heed the proper serving size.

Last week’s 15 things is here (including six articles, two movies, my new jeans, and more). The rec of the week was how to decorate for the holidays without buying a bunch of junk. Last week’s podcast was about the trap of existential busywork.

Hope you have a nice Sunday!
Haley