The Thumbs Down: A Perfectly Acceptable and Effective Alternative to the Middle Finger
A new way to signal displeasure.
I’d like to present you, dear reader, with a realistic everyday scenario.
You are driving on the interstate during your morning commute in the far right lane. You’re intently listening to yet another audiobook (today it’s Britney Spears’ heart wrenching memoir: The Woman In Me) and moving at a moderate, law-abiding speed within dashed white lines toward your office to begin the work day.
You’ve got approximately ninety-nine emails to answer and there’s a three hour meeting scheduled that should realistically only take thirty minutes, but right now, at this very moment, all you care about is how terrible Justin Timberlake was to your girl Britney. You are engrossed in the drama. You see the road and adjust to certain slow downs and pot holes, but you aren’t really operating the vehicle. You’re on autopilot. Where you really are is Hollywood circa 2002 with Miss Spears.
Suddenly, a white 2003 Chevy Impala with a missing chunk from its rear bumper, and a sticker on the back window that cleverly morphs the interlocking spheres of the Toyota logo into Yoda from Star Wars (why the Toyota logo on a Chevy?), careens over two lanes at breakneck speed and forces its way right in front of your stickerless and appropriate speed going vehicle (a 2022 Ford Maverick with appropriate Ford decals), causing you and everyone behind you to slam the brakes. The operator of this speeding death trap not only doesn’t wave at you for “letting them in” but flicks out a bright orange and glowing cigarette onto the freeway and erupts in a tiny volcano eruption of sparks and ash.
This action has ripped you from your pop singer world and thrust you right back into the dreary overcast commute.
What do you do now? You lay on the horn.
And you should! This reckless person nearly caused a pile up on a major US interstate at the height of an already tense morning commute. You have every right to honk at them. They cannot just do this and get away without a single admonishment. You must let them know what they’ve done – what annoyance they’ve caused you. Your child was nearly made an orphan because of this stunt! Imagine if your autopilot driver hadn’t locked his eyes on the road.
No this guy, you see it is a guy with a mullet, needs this honk. So you lay on the horn and let it ride. He is going to pay. Your displeasure blasts through the thick morning air.
In response to this long lay on the horn, the Yoda-Toyota-Impala slams on the brakes and throws his hands up in anger. He was not aware of you before, but he sure is now. You keep the horn screaming, and he taps the brakes again. You barely avoid taking another chunk out of his bumper.
Now you’re really mad and so is he.
You’re both exiting the interstate and are on the exit ramp which leads to the arteries of town dispersing every car on the road to their various 9 to 5’s. As you both roll down the hill on the long exit ramp, an opportunity to get in the right lane to pass him present itself. You take this opening. Like Jimmy Johnson on the last lap at Bristol, you hit the accelerator and zip right up next to the Impala and match his speed. The mullet man is glaring at you savagely. You match his facial intensity and then unleash the ultimate attack: You roll down the window, extend out your left arm, clench your fist, and then raise your middle finger straight up into the air. The bird has been flipped.
The man’s eyes open wide in astonishment. Now he lays on his horn and he raises his finger in response. But his retaliation is too late. You have sped by him and barely skirted through the yellow light at the intersection, tires screeching. He is stuck at the red light in defeat. You see the white, beat up Chevy in the rear view as you continue on to work. The mullet man is nearly pulling his hair out in a fit of rage bathed in the red glow of the light. Victory. That miscreant was irresponsible and you put him in his place with just one finger. Good on you, justice warrior.
After arriving at your place of business, you get coffee and discuss The Woman In Me with all your work bros at the water cooler (they’ve been reading too). As you head back to your desk, your supervisor intercepts you.
“The new president wants to see you.” he says nervously.
The new president? He wants to see you? You must finally be getting a promotion! That has to be it. Why else would he want to see you?
Your supervisor, soon to be your underling, walks you down the hall to the new president’s office. You hope he will be cool – you’ve never met or even seen him. Your heart beats heavy as you take every step. You’ve earned this promotion. Your work on the Johnson project was immaculate. It’s about time you started to ride to the top.
The future subordinate leads you to a door and knocks.
“Come in” says a gravelly smoker’s voice on its other side.
You tentatively step into the office and behold a man with a mullet sitting behind a desk adorned with multiple items of Star Wars memorabilia. Yoda front and center.
It is, of course, the Impala man.
And you are now fired.
Has this ever happened to you?
It’s an all too common occurrence, and it could have been avoided by simply not flipping this man, a frugal President in a beat up Impala, the bird.
I do not know why the middle finger is so offensive, but it is. Nothing makes one more angry than seeing that particular finger directed at your person, especially if it’s on the road.
A quick and studious Google search uncovered that the middle finger as an insult has been around since the ancient Greeks. So it is literally hardwired into our DNA to hate the gesture.
The middle finger can get many people into hot water to be sure! Road rage is a real thing. Some people will not just take the insult but will attempt to cause you bodily harm or even death after a middle finger is presented to them. I wish this were a joke, but it sadly isn’t. According to the NHTSA, road rage has been responsible for about 300 deaths since 2013. You, dear reader, could find yourself murdered over a finger.
Is it worth it? I think not.
If you read the title of this blog, you know where I’m going. I have come up with a perfectly acceptable and effective alternative to the middle finger: the thumbs down.
Yes, the thumbs down.
Where the phallic symbol of the middle finger expresses a rude desire to belittle and enrage the aggressive driver in question, the thumbs down expresses a rather simple but serious disappointment. The driver sees this and knows exactly what they’ve done and what they deserve. They should be flipped off for their vehicular transgressions and they know it. Yet you, the thumbs downer, in your parental and stoic benevolence, have chosen to spare them this humiliation.
You, noble thumbs downer, have decided to have mercy on them. They are not, however, simply free to go away unrecognized and undisciplined.
Nay. They receive a thumbs down.
They are hit with the weight of this gesture and the loving discipline it applies. Instantly the transgressor is transported to the time when their father and mother sat them down after getting caught downing a handle of Skoal Vodka in their high school parking lot before class and told them they weren’t angry with them, but disappointed. This hurt so much worse than stark, raving anger. The underage drinker knew they should have done better, but didn’t. They made a bad choice, but will do better next time. A valuable lesson was learned and voices did not have to be raised.
Back on the road, as you hold the thumbs down in the bad driver’s direction, a sadness fills their eyes and they mouth “I’m sorry” and shrug sheepishly and they adjust their speed and let you roll on toward your destination.
They will surely drive better now.
Since I’ve put the thumbs down into practice, I’ve felt far safer on the roads. It’s simple and effective, without putting your life or job at risk. My wife no longer has to beg me to “stop following that old lady and honking with your middle finger presented at her because she cut you off”. Now, I simply give the transgressing old lady a thumbs down and she sees her error and drives off in shame. Our transportation induced marital arguments have been cut by 50 percent. Now that’s progress.
I’m using it right now at all the infuriated people who are flipping me off and honking at me as I write this blog on my phone while stopped in the middle of the road. They yell and cuss at me as they pass, faces purple. However, as I hit them with the aforementioned gesture, I can see the color drain from their face and the rage leave their eyes as they slink away to ponder their life’s choices. I know they are grateful for this correction. It does, unfortunately, make the writing of this article longer with all the gestures I’m forced to make and then return to writing. It kind of turns into a never ending cycle.
Therefore, I think I should go ahead and land the plane. I shall end this blog with an invitation.
Dear reader, would you try this with me? Would you put away that dirty middle finger and exchange it for a thumbs down?
I think you’ll be glad you did.