Olivia: Alright Jackson, five-word review of a hypothetical Whoopi Goldberg etiquette book. Go. Jackson: Don't be an ass. The end. Olivia: That is hilariously close. Today we’re diving into the very real book, Is It Just Me?: Or is it nuts out there? by the one and only Whoopi Goldberg. Jackson: The title alone feels like a personal attack on my daily commute. It’s a question I ask myself at least three times before I even get to the office. Olivia: Exactly. And this isn't just some celebrity rant. Whoopi is an EGOT winner—she has the Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony. Plus, as a long-time host of 'The View,' she's spent decades observing human behavior from a very unique vantage point. She wrote this back in the early 2010s because she felt civility was genuinely in decline, especially with the rise of smartphones. Jackson: And if she thought it was nuts then... I can't imagine what she thinks now. That actually makes the book even more relevant. The problems she spotted have only gotten more intense. Olivia: That’s the perfect entry point. Because her first big argument is about how we’ve fundamentally misunderstood our own spaces.

Jackson: What do you mean by that? Misunderstood our spaces? Olivia: Whoopi argues that the core of the problem, the root of so much modern rudeness, is that we've erased the line between public and private. We treat public spaces like our own personal living rooms. The most obvious example she gives is in Chapter 29, "Louder, They Can’t Hear You in the Lobby." She talks about people in movie theaters who provide a running commentary on the film, as if everyone else paid to hear their thoughts. Jackson: Oh, the movie talker! Or worse, the person whose phone screen is at 100% brightness in the dark theater. It's like a personal spotlight of rudeness, announcing to everyone, "My texts are more important than this shared experience." Olivia: And Whoopi takes that feeling and pushes it further. It’s not just about noise or light. In Chapter 4, "Big Blogger," she tells this story about being in an Apple Store in Manhattan. Someone blogged her location in real-time, and within minutes, a crowd formed and started chasing her down the street. Jackson: Whoa, that's terrifying. But I have to ask the question: isn't that just the price of fame? And for the rest of us, aren't we all kind of 'public figures' now with social media? We post where we are, what we're eating. Where do you even draw the line anymore? Olivia: That's the perfect question, because it gets to her deeper point. It’s not about fame. It’s about a presumed intimacy that doesn't exist. In Chapter 61, "Take Your Stinking Paws Off Me, You Damned Dirty Ape!", she talks about strangers who feel entitled to touch you—squeezing your arm, hugging you without invitation, or the classic, touching a pregnant woman's belly. Jackson: Right, the belly touch. I’ve heard friends talk about that. It’s such a strange violation. Olivia: Exactly. Her point is that the blogger who shares her location, the person who talks in the theater, and the stranger who touches your arm are all operating from the same flawed premise: that they have a right to your space, your time, and your attention. They've collapsed the public and private spheres. They see you, so they think they know you and have a right to interact with you on their terms. Jackson: I see. It’s a fundamental misunderstanding of boundaries. And when you put it that way, it feels like that same misunderstanding is what allows small annoyances to escalate into something much, much worse. Olivia: That is precisely her next big argument. The path from annoying to aggressive is shorter than we think.

Jackson: Okay, so connect the dots for me. How does someone talking loudly on a train relate to the truly nasty stuff we see out there? Olivia: Whoopi makes a fascinating distinction in Chapter 60, "There Aren’t Enough Jails." She separates people into two categories: true "villains"—people who are fundamentally evil—and people who exhibit what she calls "assholian behavior." Assholian behavior is born from thoughtlessness, entitlement, and a lack of consideration that, when taken to an extreme, can have villainous consequences. Jackson: Assholian behavior. That's a term I can get behind. It's so perfectly descriptive. Olivia: Isn't it? And she uses Chapter 1, "Abuse It and Lose It," to show how deadly that behavior can be. She tells two heartbreaking stories. One is about a woman on the Taconic Parkway in New York who drove the wrong way while drunk, causing a horrific head-on collision that killed multiple people, including children. The other is the tragedy of Nick Adenhart, a promising young baseball pitcher for the Angels, who was killed by a repeat drunk driver. Jackson: Wow. That's... that's incredibly heavy. Those aren't just stories about being rude. That reframes the entire book. It’s not just a collection of pet peeves. Olivia: Exactly. Her argument is that the mindset required to drive drunk or text while driving—the idea that "my convenience is more important than your safety"—is an extreme version of the same entitlement that makes someone play loud music on a bus. It’s a failure of empathy. And she sees this entitlement everywhere, especially in politics. Jackson: I was going to ask about that. In Chapter 2, she says "Politics Has Gotten #$!@%! Nasty." What's her take on that? Olivia: She points to the moment a congressman shouted "You lie!" at President Obama during a joint session of Congress. For her, that was a watershed moment. It wasn't just disagreement; it was a public, theatrical act of disrespect for the office itself. She says politics has shifted from "how can we serve the people?" to "how can we make the other side look bad?" Jackson: Which feels like it's only gotten more intense since she wrote the book. Olivia: Absolutely. And she connects this to Chapter 3, "Group Insult," where she talks about how this political nastiness leads to demonizing entire groups of people—immigrants, welfare recipients. It's easier to be cruel when you're not talking about an individual person, but a faceless, stereotyped group. Jackson: So Whoopi's argument is that the same entitlement that lets someone talk in a theater, when it's left unchecked, can grow into the belief that they can drive drunk, or scream at a president, or demonize an entire population. It's a spectrum of disrespect. Olivia: It's a spectrum of disrespect, all rooted in that same failure to see the person on the other side of your actions. But after painting this pretty bleak picture of modern society, Whoopi doesn't just leave us there. She offers some refreshingly simple, if blunt, solutions.

Jackson: Okay, so what's the master plan? How do we fix... well, everything? It sounds like a massive, systemic problem. Olivia: It is, but her solutions are surprisingly personal. Her central philosophy is laid out in Chapter 48, "If You Don’t Like It, Don’t Do It." It's a simple but radical call for personal liberty and tolerance. She applies it to big, controversial issues. For example, on gay marriage, she says, "What does it do to you if two lesbians get married? What does it do to your faith? Nothing." Her point is, if you don't like gay marriage, don't get one. Jackson: That's a powerful and incredibly simple way to frame it. Your personal, moral, or aesthetic preferences shouldn't be legislated onto someone else's life. Olivia: Precisely. And she argues that as long as someone's actions aren't directly harming you—and she makes a clear exception for things like drunk driving—then you should leave them alone. It’s a philosophy of minding your own business on a grand scale. Jackson: I love that. But what about the smaller, day-to-day stuff? The noisy neighbor, the coworker who microwaves fish in the office kitchen? You can't just ignore that forever. Olivia: You can't. And for that, she offers a different toolkit. In Chapter 6, "Then Maybe You Should Stop Complaining," she says you have three choices when something bothers you: ignore it, bitch about it, or try to fix it. If you're too scared to fix it, then you have to accept it and stop complaining, because complaining without action just makes you part of the noise. Jackson: That's a tough-love approach. It puts the responsibility squarely back on you. Olivia: It does. And if you do decide to fix it, say by confronting someone, she talks in Chapter 19, "Daily Rehab," about the power of a real apology. Not a fake "I'm sorry you feel that way," but a genuine "I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sorry I did." It's all about taking ownership of your own actions and your own reactions. Jackson: So it's not about creating a perfect, polite society. It's about each person taking responsibility for their own little corner of it. It's less about a grand societal fix and more about a million individual adjustments. Olivia: That's the heart of it. The book might seem like a collection of rants, and some reviewers did see it that way. But when you look at the through-line, it's a powerful argument for a very specific kind of personal integrity.

Jackson: It's fascinating. The book got pretty mixed reviews online. Some people found it to be just a list of complaints. But hearing it laid out like this, there's a real, coherent philosophical thread. It’s a call to stop waiting for 'society' to get better and to start with ourselves. Olivia: Exactly. We've gone on this journey from the micro-annoyance of a bright phone screen in a dark theater, to the life-and-death consequences of unchecked entitlement, and we've landed on this idea of radical personal responsibility. Jackson: And it’s not preachy. It’s blunt, it’s funny, and it’s grounded in her own experiences. She’s not claiming to be perfect; in the foreword, she admits she's guilty of some of these behaviors herself. That makes the message more powerful. Olivia: It does. Whoopi's ultimate point seems to be that civility isn't a top-down rulebook handed down from on high. It's the sum total of a million tiny, daily decisions. It's choosing not to slam the hotel door, choosing not to forward that gossip-filled email, choosing not to heckle the player on the field. It's about recognizing that your actions, no matter how small, have a ripple effect. Jackson: And in a world that feels increasingly 'nuts,' as she puts it, maybe that's the only sane way to start. It’s not about fixing the world; it’s about fixing your interaction with the person right in front of you. Olivia: That’s the takeaway. The power isn't out there; it's right here, in our own choices. Jackson: It makes you wonder, what's one small, 'assholian' behavior you could give up this week? Something to think about. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.