Need help? Here's some advice

LESLIE KANE
The Record (Bergen County, NJ)
07-20-2003

Need help? Here's some advice
By LESLIE KANE
Date: 07-20-2003, Sunday
Section: OPINION
Edtion: All Editions.=.Sunday
Column: A COMMUNITY VOICE

SCIENTISTS have recently identified the pedantis advisus virus, which causes an all-consuming compulsion to write an advice column or launch a Web site to solve other peoples' personal problems.

The disorder was rare before 1980. However, the Internet has caused the virus to mutate, develop resistance, and to spread.

Researchers have identified Patient Zero as the late Ann Landers. Before therapists were more ubiquitous than cup holders in Hondas, Landers dispensed advice to a nation thirsty for common sense solutions to the problems of daily living. "Ann Landers said" carried clout equal to that of Alan Greenspan.

Ann Landers' twin sister, Dear Abby, also wrote an advice column. Dr. Joyce Brothers soon joined the triumvirate. Then, women's magazines and other media sprouted their own exclusive experts. Cosmopolitan magazine had Irma Kurtz; the weekly tabloid The Star had Dear Meg. Bombastic Laura Schlesinger infiltrated radio shows. Dr. Phil became a hit on Oprah.

Other than Ann and Abby, most of the early famous advice-givers had credentials in a counseling-related field, such as social work or psychology. (This fueled rumors that the virus spread through contact at graduate schools and professional conventions.)

Soon the virus' characteristic "Let me tell you what to do" behavior began showing up in the general population. Innocent folks without wisdom, judgment, experience, or credentials fell prey to the illness. A spate of snappy advice Web sites appeared, put out by people whose only prior experience in directing others' behavior was telling Fido to "stay." Those folks now tell people how to stop their mother-in-law from stripping at family events, or when to walk out on their marriage.

Plug "advice column" into a Yahoo! search, and you'll get more than a million hits. Many advice Web sites have their own unique gimmick. At Miss Abigail's' Time Warp Advice (www.missabigail.com), Abigail passes on advice culled from the relationship books published from 1822 to 1978. Mrs. Web Personal Advice Column (www.dearmrsweb.com) offers wisdom consistent with the legend, "Like a good neighbor, friend, or a 'second mother', she calls it as she sees it." Want to know who Mrs. Web is? You can't find out from the site - nor even whether she's actually Mr. Web.

Jonathan, who is billed merely as a "compassionate advice columnist," dispenses "meaningful advice" at (www.meaningfulliving.com/advice.htm). Or you could write to "The Soul Nurse" (www.soulnurse.com), who calls herself a professional intuitive, healer, and life energy specialist. At Purpleglitter advice (www.purpleglitter.com), you'll get your questions on love, sex, and life answered - presumably by a person, although this is not made clear - amid a purple starry background.

Why the rapid and pervasive spread of self-appointed advisers? One theory is that a request for your opinion stimulates the egos largus area of the brain. This triggers the release of the neurotransmitter egocyclin, which creates the intoxicating "advice-giver's high."

Another theory involves the diasthesis-stress model; certain people are more susceptible to the lust for recognition. When faced with the opportunity, they automatically begin spurting directives. The famous person wanna-be realizes that writing an advice column beats competing on "Survivor" or "Fear Factor," where he or she might end up covered with tarantulas.

Why else is giving advice so tantalizing? When people seek your counsel, you've created a supplicant/master relationship. You're immediately superior, smarter, wiser; your incisive judgment is recognized. And you don't have to stump for acolytes and admirers. Most people are so eager for someone to pay attention to their problems (especially without going through their health insurance), they can't wait to get an opinion.

Another perk to being an advice columnist is that you're less accountable than a psychic or a weatherman. If implementing your advice triggers an explosion rather than a happy solution, readers won't know or hold you responsible. Rarely do you read a retraction, such as "Oops! We should not have advised Tara to say, 'Boss, I feel the need to be candid... '"

True, Ann Landers sometimes backpedaled when her readers pulverized her for missing the boat. Still, I haven't yet seen a malpractice lawyer's ad on late night television exhorting, "Bad advice columnist ruined your life? You may be entitled to damages for your pain and suffering." (Although in today's litigious world, that may not be far off).

To tap the growing market of advice-givers, we might expect software companies to develop an all-purpose "advice column" template, similar to the "Write your own will" pack you can buy. With the deluxe program, you can even get generic snippets of wisdom to use.

Of course, just like sadists need masochists, pedantis advisus is enabled by its corollary, ASD, Advice Seeker's Disease. The chief symptom is a compulsion to get a faceless, nameless person - who may even be overwhelmed with his own problems - to "tell me what to do."

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Leslie Kane, a Ridgewood resident, writes for a business publication and is completing her master's degree in psychology at Fairleigh Dickinson University.

Copyright 2003 Bergen Record Corp. All rights reserved.