It’s kind of a no-shit-Sherlock that I’m one hell of a chatty Cathy. I talk fast, I talk a lot; and if you were to ask my brother, he’d tell you that I dispense with more words in a week than most do in a year. That said, any therapist would probably tell you that I am really good at talking a lot without saying anything at all.

So when I was worried that my mom (a Ph.D. herself) was about to pry something out of me — usually along the lines of having ditched some classes while they were out of town — I’d tell her a really long drawn-out story, confess to eating dairy or something else on the Block no-no list, and be on my merry way.

The truth is, that for someone who talks a lot, I’m not particularly good at being a good comm-u-ni-ca-tor. When you’re a girl, men like to call that being passive aggressive, but I actually flip-flop between avoiding serious conversations and being what they call, in our pop psychology culture, “confrontational.” I think it’s just because I enjoy yelling at people.

These days, everyone is a therapist. Everyone watches Dr. Phil or Oprah, or at least knows who they are. We analyze everyone else’s behavior, and think that we have our finger on what this-or-that really means.

By the way, I know there are some of you out there who want to think that by “everyone else” I’m only referring to women, but that is not the case. Boys talk as much as girls do. Sometimes more. But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? In pop psych speak, women are considered “better communicators,” because, as the thinking goes, they are better at expressing their feelings. I find that super amusing, especially when I think about how the dynamics in my group of friends play out. Because despite differences in gender, groups of male, female and transgender friends can be found having a conversation that ends this way: “Maybe you should just talk to him about it.”

And then we go on our merry way, thinking we have solved the issue. Because, clearly, if people communicated better no one would ever die, there would be world peace and Project Runway would still be on Bravo. (Actually, the third might be true.)

In our pop culture society, communication is key. But why does no one ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, too much open and honest communication can be a bad thing? Think about it: People now spend their lives (and ruin their careers) over-sharing on Twitter. Without this, I wouldn’t know that John Mayer was addicted to pornography, and would be much happier with my life.

The biggest negative ramification of social networking, in my opinion, is not that we’re not “face to face with people.” It’s that we talk more than we ever would have in the past. Yes, being a closed off hermit is probably a bad thing, but our tendency to talk to such extremes cannot be good for us.

I’m talking in generalities, and clichés. But pop psychology speak is a language of aphorisms and redundancies; a lot of vague words that mean nothing at all. It’s not that sharing is a bad thing; but there is a reason why my head is my head, and your head is your head, and never the twain shall meet. Nowhere in Plato’s The Cave, or Maimonedes’ Guide to the Perplexed, do they talk about ultimate enlightenment being no-holds-barred, shit all your thoughts on the floor. Forgive me, but no one is meant to be that naked.

As private as some of us may be, it is only human nature to want to put your shit out there. If it weren’t, people wouldn’t tell complete strangers random stuff in airport bars, wouldn’t become columnists (hey yo) and Facebook/Twitter wouldn’t be so huge. But instead of recognizing humanity’s compulsion to over-share, we encourage it.

Oprah will be retiring in the next year. Dr. Phil, bless his overweight little heart, is probably on his way out too. My mom, and I think many of her generation, are in mourning over Oprah’s departure from her Tivo. But to me it is a breath of fresh air, an opportunity for this age of hanging-up-your-dirty-laundry for the world to see, or at least telling-your-partner/friend-how-what-they-did-makes-you-feel to finally, finally be over.

We’ve hit a point where we validate sharing everything with everyone, and being balls-out honest without considering the ramifications of telling people things they may not want to hear or just don’t need to know. Call me a hypocrite, but I’m not saying don’t talk. I’m just saying, talk less.

Julie Block, a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a former Sun Arts and Entertainment Editor. She may be reached at jblock@cornellsun.com. WTF, Mate?! appears alternate Wednesdays this semester.