If I were in your position, I would perhaps consider trying to blow off a little steam by making a dedicated video on the subject of these corrections, to wit, picking out a few of the more obnoxious comments, obsequiously thanking the respondent for their observation of the error, and then issuing a correction on the point which, rather than acknowledging and accepting the commenter’s assertion, dryly mocks them by taking things into the realm of the absurd.
“Next, I wish to thank Big Shark 7326 for pointing out that pasta did not originate in Portugal in the early 1800s, as was apparently implied by my video about Italian pastas of the 1600s. As revealed in an obscure BBC documentary in 1957, noodles have been harvested from spaghetti trees for hundreds of years, trees which were originally native to Manitoba before being naturalized in Europe by agents of the Inquisition. Next, we have a comment from Horse Your Daddy 69…”
It probably wouldn’t make things any better, but at least it might be a way to exorcise your disdain.
It’s probably better to vent about it off-channel (as I have done in this thread, in a sense).
There’s supposedly a principle that goes something like whatever you want to see more of, focus on it - people who make videos about mean tweets probably receive more mean tweets as a result - some of them just from people posting something because they want to be featured in the next episode, but some of them probably brought in by algorithmic matching on inferred personality type or something like that.
As an antidote, I do the opposite; I have a regular slot where I showcase and discuss positive comments (and I’m sure this does cause some people to be extra nice in order to try to get featured, but being nice on purpose is fine by me)
Other than these forums, I don’t comment on much of anything I encounter on-line.
IRL I used to correct people more often. Most often family members or close friends. Factual errors, but also grammar/pronunciation. Mainly, I used to think people would prefer not to be factually incorrect, and would prefer to say things “correctly” (to the extent any grammar/pronunciation is prescriptive.). Often, I would phrase it in the form of a question: “Is that how that is pronounced? Where did you hear that?”
I have no objection to being similarly corrected myself (or, at least I anticipate I won’t should I ever say anything wrong! ;)) Probably ought not be done more publicly than necessary. But in recent years, I’ve been far less likely to offer such corrections. Makes me look bad, and is likely not appreciated.
I used to do it more often, until people I loved told me it was annoying and condescending, and I stopped. Now, I’ll correct folks in three cases:
They’re my student or child, and I have a duty to educate them.
What they’re saying is legitimately confusing, and I want to be sure I understand (e.g., they’re suggesting we do something on a date in the past, and I think I know what date they meant, but I’ll ask to make sure).
What they’re saying is hateful nonsense.
Meanwhile, I teach my kids (my own, and my students) about “irrelevant corrections.” These are corrections people make that don’t matter.
If I’m teaching a lesson on characterization, I might ask students to describe a character, and I’ll transcribe their words on the board, and then ask other kids to point out which words help them understand the character’s personality. If someone raises their hand, only to say, “Mr. Dorkness, you didn’t put a space between the first two words in that sentence,” that’s an irrelevant correction that detracts from the lesson. If, however, I’m teaching a math lesson, and in my excitement I mistranscribe a problem, and when I ask a student how to simplify the equation they say, “You wrote 7x, but it should be 3x,” that’s a relevant correction, and I thank them for it.
I think a lot of the overcorrectors are overcorrecting for their own lack of accomplishment. They’re disappointed that their high intelligence (as they heard nonstop as children) hasn’t translated into doing great things as an adult, and they’re trying to recapture that dopamine hit they got as kids from being the smartest kid in the room. It wasn’t an especially adaptive social skill at eight (although it may have impressed adults, it never impressed their peers), and it’s super maladaptive at twenty or thirty or forty. But that dopamine hit might be just around the corner, so they overcorrect and overcorrect, chasing the high.
That was why I used to correct people (I’ve tried to break myself of the habit in recent years). Not just about grammar or pronunciation, but about facts in general.
I have always enjoyed finding out new information, learning new things. I would actually appreciate it when someone said to me, “That’s a popular misconception, but it’s not really true. What actually happened was…” I loved those moments. I had learned a new thing! Terrific! My mistake was in assuming that other people felt the same way.
It took a while to figure out that many people (most people?) don’t really enjoy those kind of corrections, and that when I did it, I was coming off as an annoying and condescending know-it-all, rather than a helpful purveyor of accurate information.
This is a good point. On the occasions someone has pointed out that I’ve been using a word or phrase wrong, whether they understood what I meant or not, I’ve been glad of the correction, as it then improves my language going forward.
Nextdoor is a wretched hive of inaccuracy and misinformation (and much worse, but let’s leave that for now). When it was fairly new in my area, I did try to correct that inaccuracy and misinformation more than was either practical or interesting (although I did my best to make sure I was accurate). Once, someone whose misinformation I was correcting responded with “OK, Boomer,” something to which I could think of no useful response (except possibly tracking him down and pressing my point in person in some possibly illegal way). So I drew back. These days I only correct, occasionally, on one or two local topics about which there is widespread ignorance and with which I have both experience and inside information.
Why did I do all that correcting? Imagine an otherwise-empty closet full of impossibly tangled wire hangers. Straightening out those hangers into neatness and order is tedious but for some people fulfilling. One less corner of the universe dissolving into chaos, thanks to me. It was something like that. Partly an ego trip – “I can fix that” – and partly the satisfaction of having made the world better in some small way, even if it was only in my imagination.
– which, I suppose, is a correction. And yes, sometimes I correct people. I try to limit it either to relevant corrections, or to expressly nitpicky ones in contexts in which that’s appropriate (typos in a proposed town regulation, for instance; or typos on this board when it’s not phrased so much as a correction as ‘hey, neat typo!’, or else is a genuine request for what they meant because I couldn’t figure it out.
The set of people who are open to new and novel info surely intersects somewhat with the set of people who find pretentious knowitalls annoying.
It’s all timing, judgment, and the way the correction is presented.
I remember many years ago when I was speaking with my boss and I mentioned something being an egregious oversight…but I pronounced the second “G” as a hard G. See, I had never actually heard the word spoken, so it was one of those words we know by reading but don’t necessarily know how to pronounce. He simply reworded my concerns as if to verify that he heard what I was saying, meanwhile pronouncing the word correctly–how graceful!
I am forever grateful for him saving me much embarrassment over the years with that particular word.
Now, older siblings who plant false pronunciations in our heads at the tender age of eight…well that’s just plain mean.
Years ago I saw a webcomic (I thought XKCD, but I can’t find it) pointing out that if someone pronounces a word the way it’s spelled, that means they’re an avid reader, and making fun of them is not only douchey but counterproductive. Developing a broad vocabulary by reading a lot is something to encourage.