Ultra-crepidarian n. One who ventures beyond his scope; an ignorant or presumptuous critic.

Source: The Oxford English Dictionary.

It all started with Brexit. At least, that’s when I first became aware of the preponderance of people who are more than happy to pontificate about, and lecture the rest of us on, a subject of which they have no expertise.

I’ve experienced it in “real life”, of course: I’ve had the pleasure — if that’s the word — of having to listen to someone telling me how Economics should be taught even though he had never studied it and I have an MA in Economics Education.

I’ve sat and listened politely while someone who has never written a thing in his life assured me that having a book published is tantamount to owning a money printing machine because of the earning of royalties.

But at least when that kind of thing happens sometimes when you meet up with someone, at least you know that the experience will end soon — or that you can make your excuses and leave. Online, though, it seems to be incessant. I’ve spent more time unfollowing people on Twitter over the last year or so than I had in the previous five years.

It’s nothing to do with whether or not I agree with them, although usually I don’t. It’s more a matter of authority and intrusion.

Authority

By “authority” I mean: what authority does this person have to lecture us on this topic? I realise that everyone has a right to their opinion, and frankly if I wish to hear ill-informed views I can get them in my local pub. However, when someone decides to write a series of tweets explaining why everyone who voted for Brexit is unintelligent and racist, or why Covid-19 doesn’t exist, or that it does exist but it’s all part of a government plot, or that their government doesn’t know what it’s doing in respect of Covid-19 or whatever, I think the rest of us are entitled to know the basis for their apparent expertise.

I don‘t think this is unreasonable. I know I’m not alone because I saw a tweet recently in which someone said something along the lines of:

Am I the only person here who doesn’t have a degree in Military Strategy, with a specialised subject of tank warfare?

Soon after Covid-19 made its entrance onto the world stage, someone who publishes a newsletter about computing advertised the fact that if you signed up for the premium version of his newsletter you would receive a free article, written by him, about coronavirus. Why? Unless the article is about applying some computer algorithm to the problems caused by coronavirus, why would anyone be interested in his opinion on the matter — especially if they have to pay to hear it?

Intrusion

I happen to believe that’s it’s rather impolite to bombard your followers with a stream of tweets giving your opinion, especially when you have no particular knowledge about what you’re bombarding them about.

As it happens, I think it’s rude to bombard them with a series of tweets about something you do know about, it’s just worse when you’re an ultracrepidarian to boot. Opening up Twitter and seeing what amounts to a lecture feels intrusive, it feels like someone has just come into my home and started shouting their opinions at me. Writing a blog post feels to me to be less “in your face”. At least, you have to make a bit of an effort to check and read a blog post — not much, I grant you, but it certainly seems to involve a bit more choice in the matter.

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