STEVEN KALAS: Anonymity tends not to bring out the best in human nature

I strongly object to having to log in with Facebook in order to comment on Steven Kalas' column. We used to have some interesting discussions from the readers and people could type in anonymously. Now, one has to use their last name.

Not everyone who wants to talk about their relationships wants to do it in a public forum. I urge you to reconsider people logging on with their Facebook account. - E.W., Las Vegas (This is a letter sent to the Las Vegas Review-Journal by a reader, then copied to me.)

E.W., when I read this letter, I threw back my head and laughed the maniacal laughter of the damned. And I'm still laughing as I type. Oh, this world I live in!

You see, I'm on the opposite side of this issue. For the longest time the Review-Journal online site had no accountability whatsoever. You could - literally - sign on as Mr. Bif Barf, email meow@donaldduck.com, and proceed to spew. It got to the point that I refused, in principle, to read the online comments, let alone respond, because so many of the comments were ... well, I'd say "vitriolic," but that word implies some modicum of an actual argument. Let's just stay with the word "spew."

"Interesting discussions," you insist? Well, they were interesting only sometimes. Too often they included ugliness hiding behind the cowardly veil of anonymity. Anonymity tends to provoke the worst in human nature. Whenever I wanted to despair about the future of critical thinking, human decency and civilization in general, I would spend a few minutes reading online comments at lvrj.com. Pick the writer. Pick the story. It wasn't very often public dialogue; it was graffiti.

Finally, the Review-Journal insisted that readers "register" with a viable email address. This gave the R-J the capacity to "ban" certain email addresses. Immediately I thought I noticed a marked improvement in the online public dialogue. Slowly, hesitantly, cautiously, I risked some online responses to those comments.

Now, keep in mind, I'm called a "nonstaff writer" at the Review-Journal. Technically, I don't work there. I'm an independent contractor. Among other things, this means the R-J brass never notifies me, let alone asks my opinion about the "why" and "whether" of any policy change. For example, when my View column went to online only, I found out the day I picked the View off my driveway and opened it, just like everybody else.

So, like you, I went online and found that, if you're a reader who wants to participate in online public dialogue, this now requires a valid Facebook account. And I immediately had two reactions: 1) now that's accountability! And 2) I don't have a Facebook account!

That's correct. You're reading it right. I'm one of the last people alive without a Facebook page. Which is starting to become problematic, seeing as how, apparently, the world is starting to use your Facebook page the way it uses your driver's license and Social Security number. I mean, I can't get on a commercial airline without my driver's license. And I pretty much don't exist without my Social Security number. It's going to be interesting to live in a culture that has a "presumption of Facebook identity." For some reason that makes me giggle.

"But Facebook is such a cool way to stay in touch," people insist. Look - my friends and colleagues can ring me. They can leave voice mail. They can text me. They can email me. Snail mail me. They can even come over and knock on my door! Facebook is redundant. And ghastly time-consuming.

I'm saying that, if you read my column and would like to dialogue with me about it, you'll have to use the attached email skalas@reviewjournal. com. I'll meet you there.

And while we're on the subject of a culture that has never been more "connected" yet simultaneously and concurrently more alone, less intimate, less present to authentic relationships ... I intend to die before I ever "tweet." Or read a "tweet."

Seriously? As a tribe, we think it's important to publicize our unexamined thoughts bouncing up from the bowels of our amygdala, bypassing any real input whatsoever from our frontal lobe? And to likewise eagerly devour the unexamined thoughts of others? "Hey! Have you read Steven Kalas' tweet on Steve Nash being traded to the Lakers?"

I'm speechless. Unexamined thoughts launched by reflex feelings are the graffiti of the human mind.

(For the record, I'm delighted with the Nash trade. Let the Lakers figure out what to do with his slow-footed, matador defense. Great guy, and I'm happy for him. But my Suns got four draft picks out of the deal! Woo-hoo!)

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press). His columns also appear on Sundays in the Las Vegas Review-Journal. Contact him at 227-4165 or skalas@reviewjournal.com.