Perhaps you've had the good fortune, possibly by dint of having been raised in some sort of isolation chamber, of never encountering bullies in childhood. Had you done, you'd probably have noticed that most bullies are basically cowards, which means that fighting back is much less likely to escalate the matter than to end it. Conversely, to supinely suffer whatever a bully dishes out will certainly embolden him, with the probable result that he will "grow up thinking that fighting is OK", just like you don't want.
It's common for members of certain groups, particularly those of a quixotic utopian bent, to see a bunched fist as something that's awful and terrifying in its own right. This is not true; like any weapon, its moral valence is ineluctably situational and determined by the use to which it's put. A bully uses it to inflict terror on those who can't or won't fight back. We agree that this use carries a negative moral valence, but you fail to think it through properly; the assumption that more violence is always worse than less violence blinds you to the fact that not all violence is morally equivalent -- that the violence which stops a bully is not the same as the violence which satisfies a bully -- because you find it so unpleasant to contemplate any violence.
This is a regrettably common form of moral cowardice, but it is no less base or shameful for all that. Perhaps you think I judge too harshly; in entire fairness, I'd think the same, had not the schools of my youth been administered by people who had precisely the same attitude toward violence in general; their idea was that the problem of bullying could be entirely solved by sufficient attention from authorized adults, which might possibly be workable if, say, there were a roughly 1:1 staff-to-student ratio, and constant supervision in places like bathrooms. Since there isn't and never will be, the whole idea is plainly and fundamentally flawed, but that doesn't seem enough to stop some people from trying to put it into practice nonetheless.
I've seen the policies which result from such foolishness, and experienced their consequences firsthand; indeed, they made my youth a great deal more unpleasant than it really had to be, and it's because of that experience that I have such short shrift to give these opinions when I encounter them in adulthood.
Your reply (dripping with condescension which makes it an unpleasant read) ignores the many people who have met bullies who are not cowards and who are either physically strong or in some position of power or who are emotional bullies.
You also make the mistake of saying that bullying is a problem of childhood. Plenty of adults bully and are bullied.
Well, as I was writing a comment in a Hacker News thread, I figured it'd be excusable to restrict myself to that which is relevant in the context of the discussion at hand, rather than trying to encompass the whole world. Perhaps I was wrong in that. But, nitpicks aside, the point I'm making is that standing up for yourself is strictly preferable to not doing so, both in terms of self-respect and in that, save only the most extreme of outliers, standing up for yourself will produce a preferable result. Do you contend otherwise?
I contend that situation matters, and that standing up for youself has been tried by some people who then suffered worse brutality.
It's easy to say "stand up for yourself", especially if you have wrong ideas about bullies, but just saying it is not particularly helpful for many people being bullied.
It is trite and simplistic. It is also harmful for some people being bullied.
Standing up for myself worked for me in grade school, after years of torment. A nuanced approach is required, but measured retaliation is appropriate in some cases.
Yes, sometimes bopping the aggressor on the nose will work wonders. Sometimes there are clear and useful anti-bullying policies in place and people can use them. I'm not saying "never do it". I'm just saying that it's not always that easy.
It's common for members of certain groups, particularly those of a quixotic utopian bent, to see a bunched fist as something that's awful and terrifying in its own right. This is not true; like any weapon, its moral valence is ineluctably situational and determined by the use to which it's put. A bully uses it to inflict terror on those who can't or won't fight back. We agree that this use carries a negative moral valence, but you fail to think it through properly; the assumption that more violence is always worse than less violence blinds you to the fact that not all violence is morally equivalent -- that the violence which stops a bully is not the same as the violence which satisfies a bully -- because you find it so unpleasant to contemplate any violence.
This is a regrettably common form of moral cowardice, but it is no less base or shameful for all that. Perhaps you think I judge too harshly; in entire fairness, I'd think the same, had not the schools of my youth been administered by people who had precisely the same attitude toward violence in general; their idea was that the problem of bullying could be entirely solved by sufficient attention from authorized adults, which might possibly be workable if, say, there were a roughly 1:1 staff-to-student ratio, and constant supervision in places like bathrooms. Since there isn't and never will be, the whole idea is plainly and fundamentally flawed, but that doesn't seem enough to stop some people from trying to put it into practice nonetheless.
I've seen the policies which result from such foolishness, and experienced their consequences firsthand; indeed, they made my youth a great deal more unpleasant than it really had to be, and it's because of that experience that I have such short shrift to give these opinions when I encounter them in adulthood.