Yesterday, Jim Waterson of BuzzFeed UK posed a question for anyone with a doorbell.
Someone in the office is claiming "millennials don't answer doorbells unless people text to say they're outside". Is this A Thing?
— Jim Waterson (@jimwaterson) August 2, 2017
As of this writing, the “Doorbells are scary weird” votes are edging out “I open doors they’re good,” 54 percent to 46 percent. Let us be clear: The non-doorbell-answerers are correct.
But before we get to that whole debate, we must dispense with the “millennials” angle, lest we encourage thinkpieces that reinforce hurtful stereotypes about my generation.
Headline in Bloomberg tmrw: Millennials Killing Doorbell Industry, Is Door Industry Next?
— Barry Leavitt (@doctormovies) August 2, 2017
The fact is, the doorbell-averse crowd spans all ages. Old people hate the doorbell.
https://twitter.com/sivavaid/status/892740186907586562
https://twitter.com/2dAmMuslim/status/892729733468876801
Amazing that this is once again supposedly a millenial thing. Try getting your octogenarian relative to open the front door.
— Calm (@FilmsandLetters) August 2, 2017
I overheard an old woman talk about calling the cops because someone rang her doorbell after dark, but sure it's millennials
— Matthew Skeletons (@MattSekellick) August 2, 2017
Not just millennials: Whenever her doorbell rang, Dorothy Parker's standard response was "What fresh hell can this be?"
— Angus Johnston (@studentactivism) August 2, 2017
Yes, millennials are not fans of unexpected, unmediated interactions with other humans — even a phone call from a friend can make us anxious — but you needn’t have been born after 1980 to understand the efficiency and convenience of texting, nor the insidious alarm of a randomly ringing doorbell. Who could possibly be out there, assuming you didn’t order on-demand groceries or Chinese food off Seamless?
A friend popping around to say hello. A parcel that doesn't have tracking on it. Someone with a nice cake they want to give away.
— Jim Waterson (@jimwaterson) August 2, 2017
These best-case scenarios are ludicrous at best. Friends only show up unannounced on sitcoms; anyone who tries it in real life is deeply inconsiderate. Untracked packages will probably get left on your welcome mat — otherwise you’ll get a slip and be prepared when they re-attempt delivery tomorrow. The cake thing has literally never happened. And if we take off the dude-privilege glasses for a moment, we notice something else:
I've been doxed before, my address is out there. It could be very dangerous for me as a woman and a public figurr to answer the door.
— Katelyn Burns (@transscribe) August 2, 2017
Consider your view is influenced heavily by your previous experience as a white man who maybe doesn't face the same dangers in life as other
— Katelyn Burns (@transscribe) August 2, 2017
But why do I, a 32-year-old, 180-pound man standing 6-foot-2, not answer the doorbell when I don’t know who it is? Maybe because every time I do, it’s either a Jehovah’s Witness or someone hustling money for a suspiciously nameless charity. Actually, in my old New York apartment, there was a third possible visitor: My clinically insane building super, who wanted to scream at me because some other tenant didn’t separate their recycling. Beyond these charming encounters, there can only be further threats:
https://twitter.com/2dAmMuslim/status/892733055600926721
https://twitter.com/sarahw/status/892730074771927040
https://twitter.com/amandamull/status/892736429801037827
What else can I say? Your dogs bark at the doorbell — they know it is bad. You have to put clothes on to answer the doorbell. The doorbell is fundamentally an interruption, a piercing tone from an exterior world that has no business bursting into your private one.
That a person (a stranger!) outside your walls is permitted to create this noise inside your home violates the boundaries of proper communication as we understand them.
We can end this madness. Ban doorbells. Let the media say millennials killed them — I don’t care, as long as it gets done. Then we can worry about the scourge of knocking.
Miles Klee
Miles Klee is MEL’s resident tank-top dirtbag, shitposter and meme expert. He’s also the author of the novel ‘Ivyland’ and a story collection, ‘True False.’
