Narrator: Imagine settling into a movie theater, the lights dimming, the previews ending. You have paid for your ticket, bought your popcorn, and are ready to escape for two hours. But then, the person next to you starts providing a running commentary, their voice cutting through the film’s dialogue. An usher has to intervene, shattering the illusion for everyone. Or picture being on a flight, trying to rest, only to be jolted awake by a nearby passenger slamming their overhead bin or shouting into their phone. These moments of public thoughtlessness, these breaches of unwritten social contracts, are the central subject of Whoopi Goldberg's book, Is It Just Me?: Or is it nuts out there? Goldberg acts as a cultural observer, dissecting the seemingly universal decline in common courtesy and asking a question that resonates with so many: are we alone in our frustration with the state of modern manners?

Narrator: Goldberg argues that a fundamental lack of consideration has begun to pervade public spaces, turning shared environments into arenas of personal entitlement. She observes that many people now treat theaters, restaurants, and airplanes as extensions of their own living rooms, oblivious to how their behavior affects others. This decline in manners is not just about minor annoyances; it is about a fundamental disrespect for the shared experience.

A powerful illustration of this is found in her chapter on "Road Rude." Goldberg references a famous cartoon from driver's education classes featuring the character Goofy. On his feet, Goofy is a mild-mannered, friendly individual. But the moment he gets behind the wheel of a car, he transforms into an aggressive, reckless monster. For Goldberg, this cartoon is a perfect metaphor for modern life. The anonymity of a car, much like the perceived anonymity of a crowd or an online forum, strips away civility and reveals a person’s true, often inconsiderate, personality. Whether it is speeding through a school zone, talking loudly in a quiet hotel hallway, or allowing children to shriek and run down the aisles of a plane, Goldberg contends that this behavior stems from a failure to "know where you are" and to recognize that public spaces come with a shared responsibility for maintaining peace and order.

Narrator: The book identifies technology as a primary driver of eroding social norms, particularly in the realms of privacy and communication. Goldberg points to the rise of social media and blogging as a double-edged sword. While it connects people, it also fuels a culture of oversharing and voyeurism. She recounts a personal story of being in an Apple store in Manhattan when a blog posted her location in real-time. Within minutes, a crowd gathered and began chasing her, a stark example of how technology can obliterate personal boundaries and create genuinely dangerous situations.

This erosion of privacy is not just imposed from the outside; Goldberg argues that individuals willingly contribute to it. People post intimate details of their lives online, from drunken vacation photos to complaints about their jobs, without considering the long-term consequences. In a world where "there are no secrets anymore," she warns that anything shared digitally can and will be used against you. This leads to what she calls the "textation" phenomenon—an addiction to constant connectivity that blurs the lines between work and personal life. The expectation of an instant response creates immense stress and prevents thoughtful communication, leaving people with no time to truly disconnect and be present in their own lives.

Narrator: Goldberg laments the transformation of civil discourse into toxic combat, particularly in the political arena. She observes that disagreement is no longer seen as an opportunity for debate but as a declaration of war. The goal has shifted from serving the people to making the opposition look bad at all costs. This is exemplified by the heckling of a sitting president during a congressional address or the vitriol of political talk shows.

This hostility, she argues, extends beyond individual politicians to the demonization of entire groups of people. In a chapter titled "Group Insult," Goldberg critiques the political tactic of using labels to stoke fear and manipulate public opinion. She points to the use of the term "illegal aliens" in Arizona, arguing that it was a coded way to target and demonize Mexican immigrants without having to state the prejudice outright. Similarly, she deconstructs the stereotype of the lazy welfare recipient, sharing her own past experience of needing and using welfare responsibly. Goldberg’s central point is that facts no longer seem to matter in these discussions. Instead, every cause needs a demon, and sensationalized insults in large-print headlines are used to create and vilify these scapegoats, making productive conversation impossible.

Narrator: Throughout the book, Goldberg champions a philosophy of personal freedom, encapsulated by the simple phrase: "If you don’t like it, don’t do it." She applies this principle to a wide range of issues, from gay marriage to abortion, arguing that one person’s moral or religious objections should not dictate the choices of another. As long as an action does not directly harm someone else, individuals should be free to live their lives as they see fit.

However, she is careful to define the limits of this freedom. The principle does not apply when an individual's actions endanger others. The most potent example she provides is drunk driving. In the chapter "Abuse It and Lose It," she recounts the tragic story of Nick Adenhart, a promising baseball pitcher killed by a repeat drunk driver. For Goldberg, this is not a matter of personal choice; it is a reckless act with fatal consequences for innocent people. Her proposed solution is severe and immediate: if you are caught drinking and driving, or even texting while driving, your car should be confiscated on the spot. This is where personal liberty ends and public responsibility begins. The right to choose does not include the right to endanger the lives of others.

Narrator: Goldberg challenges the very concept of celebrity role models, arguing that it is an unfair and unrealistic burden to place on public figures. Celebrities, she contends, are just human beings who are bound to make mistakes. When they inevitably do, society engages in a culture of "instant damnation," fueled by a media that profits from scandal. She uses the public downfall of Tiger Woods as a prime example of how a person can be built up into an icon and then torn down when their human flaws are exposed. Instead of looking for external blueprints, Goldberg insists that the only true role model one can have is oneself, guided by personal values and principles.

This critique extends to the language used to judge and categorize people. The book argues that words have immense power, and many common phrases perpetuate harmful stereotypes. She notes that words like "stupid" or "retard" are far more damaging than curse words because their sole purpose is to inflict emotional pain and diminish a person's worth. She also points out the racist and classist origins of phrases like "white trash" or "that's so ghetto." By becoming more conscious of our vocabulary, she suggests, we can begin to dismantle the casual cruelty that has become so common in modern discourse.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Is It Just Me? is a call for a return to personal responsibility and mutual respect in an increasingly thoughtless world. Whoopi Goldberg argues that the breakdown of manners is not a trivial issue but a symptom of a deeper societal problem where empathy has been replaced by entitlement and civil discourse has been drowned out by outrage.

The book leaves the reader with a challenging final thought. After exploring a litany of public annoyances—from loud cell phone talkers to aggressive drivers—it turns the mirror back on the reader through a series of self-tests. The final score sheet categorizes one's behavior as "Civil," "Borderline Bonehead," or "Assholian." This forces a moment of introspection, prompting the question: While we are busy being annoyed with everyone else, are we contributing to the very problem we condemn? It is a powerful reminder that improving society starts not with pointing fingers, but with a conscious effort to be a little more considerate ourselves.