TIME psychology

The Problem Isn’t Over-Sharing. It’s Over-Following

Facebook's Influence In Consumer Consumption Of News Growing
Justin Sullivan—Getty Images The Facebook website is displayed on a laptop computer on May 9, 2011 in San Anselmo, California.

Peggy Drexler, Ph.D. is a research psychologist, Assistant Professor of Psychology at Weill Medical College, Cornell University.

For better or worse, we're too willing to listen

As social media has mutated into a ravenous, many tentacled time-eater, news from our friends about their families’ triumphs and trials has become omnipresent, unrelenting—a never-ending vacation slide show from hell. As a result, every day there’s a new complaint from those who follow: too much self-promotion in my feed. Too many photos of other people’s posh vacations. Too many selfies! No one wants to see what you had for lunch/what your baby had for lunch/how cute your cats are. And yet the posts keep coming.

“For the love of God, stop posting 9,000 pictures of your baby on Facebook,” pleads an author on Chicago Now. “You know the type I’m talking about. That mom who genuinely thinks her baby is cuter than all the others. Yo, jackass, we all think our own kid is the cutest.” Indeed, social media and babies are a particularly dangerous combination. A 2010 study by the Internet security firm AVG Technologies found that 92% of American children under the age of two have some kind of digital profile, with images of them posted online. But posts chronicling the every adorable move of our friends’ babies and kids certainly aren’t the whole of the online offensiveness: Elite Daily lists the 50 most annoying people you encounter on Instagram, including the Internet Model, the Fashionista and the Rich Kid—and I can certainly list a few more—while others offer endless advice on how to politely ask your connections to be less boastful, less prolific and less, well, annoying.

Part of the problem is that social media just makes sharing—oversharing—way too easy. A click of the button on a digital camera, a quick download, and the picture or video clip is flying to your Facebook feed. But there are also plenty of studies supporting the addictive nature of social media, and how obsessive posting works directly on the pleasure centers of the brain.

And yet the real problem here is not that we’re an addiction-addled culture of oversharers, though that may indeed be true. Instead, it’s that we’re a culture of complainers. We use complaints as icebreakers or to bond with others: What’s with this weather? What’s with our boss? We use complaints to establish rapport. Studies have suggested that complaining adds years to your life by helping us release tension. But we also complain because it’s in our nature, and we’re more apt to complain than to do something about it. Complaining about the social media habits makes this ever more clear, and has become a favorite topic of conversation: Who’s most annoying in your feed? Because of course, the solution to dealing with the oversharers clogging our feed is painfully obvious: Unfollow them. Stop engaging. Delete.

But can we? Or have the followers become as obsessed and addicted as the oversharers, the ones who do it for the “Likes”? We tend to issue blame on the people who post, but we’re hooked, too. Obsessive posting, after all, is a result of obsessive following—if there were no audience at the ready, there would be no need or reason to post. Consider as an example the end of relationships that take place over social media, from that of your college friends to that of representative Mark Sanford, who ended his engagement to María Belén Chapur via public Facebook post. We’re not talking about the change in Relationship Status from “Married” to something else, but long, drawn out, intimate details that we’re shocked and horrified to read—and yet read we do. Just last weekend, I followed along as two old friends ended their long-term relationship by posting all the last details of each other’s transgressions. I knew that this was not information I wanted to have. And yet I read it. All of it.

This, of course, is what keeps people overposting. It’s not their inherent flaw, or simply their desire to be heard. It’s our willingness to listen. The only way people will stop oversharing, or badly sharing, is to refuse to be their audience. That’s not something we’re willing to do. So instead we complain, and pretend to wonder what it is we can do about all these selfies filling our feeds. But if you really want your friends, colleagues and the strangers who appear in your feed to stop being so obnoxious, inappropriate and self-promotional, you know what to do. It’s as simple as hitting Unfollow.

TIME Ideas hosts the world's leading voices, providing commentary and expertise on the most compelling events in news, society, and culture. We welcome outside contributions. To submit a piece, email ideas@time.com.

TIME Television

Jimmy Fallon Scores One for the Nice Guys

Here’s to Jimmy. The good guys need a win.

Last night, Jimmy Fallon took over the host chair on The Tonight Show. Judging from the early reviews — “brilliant” and “smashing success” were being thrown around — score one for the good guys.

Is a man that GQ called “joyful, easy, breezy” simply a talented entertainer getting the chance to slow-jam the news on a big stage? Or is he a network bet that America is ready for some nice?

Fallon’s affable goofiness — topical humor that pokes rather than cuts — seems to play well in a culture where nice can be risky.

The word for nice among psychologists is “agreeableness.” It’s measured by happy disposition, warmth, consideration for others, and finding comfort in harmony.

In some quarters, that makes you a wimp. President Obama is, by all accounts, a nice guy who likes people and consensus. Early on, he was branded by a Chicago columnist as “Obambi.” That was picked up and brought out often by Maureen Dowd, who is to public figures what Joan Rivers is to Oscar gowns. The problem, she writes, is his “feminine” management style.

(PHOTOS: The Many Faces of Jimmy Fallon)

Research indicates there is a financial cost for being nice. Timothy Judge of Notre Dame and a team published a paper in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology called “Do Nice Guys — And Gals — Really Finish Last?” At least as far as salary is concerned, the answer to the title’s question points to yes. Keeping in mind that psychologists say nice means “agreeable,” the research found that “moderately disagreeable” men earn an average of 18 percent more a year than their friendlier peers. (“Moderately disagreeable” is an important distinction because plain disagreeable veers off into personality disorders.)

And this is definitely a gendered phenomenon. No matter how they sifted the data, researchers found agreeable men suffered a penalty that agreeable women did not. Also, while there was a clear benefit for moderately disagreeable men, who are expected to be tough, the benefit for women was minimal. Women are expected to be nice.

There is more bad news for nice guys in romance. Women’s magazine fluff (“why we like bad boys”) routinely says nice guys come up short on a number of counts: they aren’t “real”; they try too hard; they don’t demand respect, and they’re predictable (boring). There is also some serious research. A New Mexico State University study led by Peter Jonason found the male sexual appeal of psychology’s “dark triad” — liar, manipulator and selfish narcissist. In other words: not nice is good for a guy’s love life.

Nice, of course, is also under relentless media attack.

One omnipresent example is reality television, where internecine nasty is the state of the genre. (Would we watch if the Real Housewives got along?) The incredibly ugly Jonathan Martin-Richie Incognito affair offered a peek into the culture of the Miami Dolphins, where we find bullying elevated to a psychological blood sport. And, of course, social media has exploded malice and animosity across the digital universe. We can say horrible things about people we’ll never meet to millions of people we’ll never know.

Unless he turns out to be a jerk in world-class disguise, Jimmy Fallon is a genuinely good guy, an antidote to snark and derision, who has worked his way to a very big stage.

For him — and in some ways for the rest of us — here’s hoping that nice sells.

TIME celebrities

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Woody Allen?

"The Revisionist" Opening Night
Michael Stewart / WireImage / Getty Images Woody Allen

Refreshed allegations by the filmmaker's adopted daughter, Dylan Farrow, bring up the personal, the professional and the political — and how to untangle them all

Dylan Farrow posted an open letter on writer Nicholas Kristof’s New York Times blog Saturday, detailing the sexual abuse she says she suffered at the hand of her adopted father, Woody Allen, 22 years ago. The decision to make these alleged details public was evidently brought on by the various honors Allen and his most recent film, Blue Jasmine, have earned or are up for, including the recent lifetime-achievement award at the Golden Globes. In his column in the paper, Kristof writes that Dylan “says that when she heard of the Golden Globe award being given to Allen she curled up in a ball on her bed, crying hysterically.” Kristof too believes that “the Golden Globes sided with Allen, in effect accusing Dylan either of lying or of not mattering.”

This view was shared, and expressed, by some at the time of the Golden Globes, including Mia Farrow, who tweeted: “A woman has publicly detailed Woody Allen’s molestation of her at age 7. Golden Globe tribute showed contempt for her & all abuse survivors.” But was that what the Hollywood Foreign Press Association was doing? Siding with Allen, as Kristof writes, or showing contempt for abuse survivors, as Mia believes? Or was Allen simply being honored for his work as an artist?

(MORE: Woody Allen’s Adopted Daughter Details Alleged Abuse)

The answer, of course, must be the latter. Professional awards are given for professional achievements, and indeed the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s Cecil B. DeMille Award does not include a humanitarian component. Although it’s valid to feel unsettled, even deeply so, by the accusations against Allen — especially upon reading Dylan’s chilling letter in which she describes: “He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we’d go to Paris and I’d be a star in his movies” — it’s essential to separate the art from the artist not only for philosophical reasons but also for practical ones. Firstly, we can’t know the truth. Allen was never prosecuted and has denied the allegations for decades. Moreover, though, is the fact that while some celebrity offenses are made public, it’s fair to assume many are not. Chances are good that if we delved into the private lives of every single artist whose work we admire, surely we’d find plenty not to like, and even to be disgusted by. It’s possible we’d never see a movie, look at a work of art, or read a book again.

To declare Allen unfit to receive an award for his art because of Dylan’s allegations is, furthermore, to issue judgment on Allen’s particular transgression as somehow worse than any other. There are plenty of examples of celebrities behaving deplorably that have been forgotten or forgiven. Back in the ’80s, Oscar winner Sean Penn took a baseball bat to the head of then wife Madonna. Oscar nominee Josh Brolin has a well-documented history of violence. Comedian Tim Allen (busted for cocaine) has gone on to have a successful career in children’s films. Presidential bestie Jay-Z once pleaded guilty to stabbing a guy over a bootleg album. Molesting a child is awful stuff. But so is beating your wife.

(MORE: Woody Allen: Sex-Abuse Claims Are ‘Untrue and Disgraceful’)

In 2003, after director Roman Polanski was nominated for an Oscar for The Pianist, Samantha Geimer, who was 13 when Polanski raped her in 1977, argued, “What he does for a living and how good he is at it have nothing to do with me or what he did to me,” and she makes an important point. When we watch a film, view art or read a book, we’re doing so to be entertained and enriched. We’re not doing it as a way to issue an endorsement of the human being whose work it is. Unless we’re going to analyze the character of every single artist before we decide whether or not to celebrate his or her contributions to the field — unless we plan to do background checks on those artists whose work we’d like to take in — we need to allow Allen the separation of his personal life from his professional.

Throughout his career, Allen has made more than 70 films. He has won four Oscars and received much deserved acclaim. It’s important to remember that sexual assault happens to girls and women every day, and that their perpetrators deserve our outrage. If Allen is one of them, he deserves that outrage too. But unless we plan to judge every artistic endeavor by the human decency of its creator, his body of work does not.

MORE: Ronan and Mia Farrow Slam Woody Allen During Golden Globes

TIME Children

The Millennials Are All Right

Young adults taking a selfie
Getty Images

Whether this is or isn't a generation of narcissists, it's hardly the first to be shaped by media

Toddlers, it seems, are taking selfies. And the trend is kicking off a new round of debate about how technology affects our children.

The fear for these yogurt-stained selfie-snappers is that they will start early down the road to self-obsession—narcissists in the making.

There is no question that technology will have a profound impact on Generation Z—if that is indeed what we end up calling them. Recent research found that almost 40% of children under 2 have used a mobile device. It’s unclear if those figures include dropping one in the toilet, but I know from personal experience that digital fluency comes at a young age. The 3-year-old son of a friend will give me two tries to execute something on his newest iPad video game before he gently takes it away and patiently walks me through the steps.

Some say that the interaction of social media and developing brains has created a generation of deluded narcissists. But most Millennials I know, while admitting to a certain amount of self-involvement, balk at the term. Narcissism is, after all, a personality disorder defined by all kinds of nasty behaviors: exploiting others, envy, lack of empathy and an insatiable hunger for attention. It’s a pretty judgmental label to hang on someone who might be happy with him- or herself.

Whether it’s a disorder or just confidence, can technology really have all that much to do with it? Maybe. But maybe not.

A growing list of studies collected by Psychology Today offer conflicting takes on the social media-narcissism connection. Among the findings: high-volume users of Facebook score higher on narcissistic personality tests; grandiose exhibitionism correlates with anti-social behavior on Facebook; since posters only post the best of their lives, readers of those posts tend to do the same; Twitter users score higher on certain kinds of narcissism.

Other research came away with different views: narcissism has become a social norm for young people and social media is simply a place to exhibit it; having more friends on Facebook had no affect on brain activity; Facebook builds self-esteem because it gives us the chance to present our best selves; because posting on Facebook allows us to examine ourselves in relation to others, it’s actually a tool of self-awareness.

Clearly there is a chicken and egg issue. Does social media breed narcissists, or have narcissists discovered that, with social media, sharing the wonder of their existence is not limited to small groups at parties?

Either way, social media is hardly the first technology to influence the psychological makeup of a generation. Walk back a bit further and you find the baby boomers and television.

“Everything the baby boomers did was based on what they saw on television,” says Douglas Gomery, a media expert and journalism professor at the University of Maryland. “They grew up as television grew up, and each had an impact on the other.” The symbiotic relationship started with kid shows like Howdy Doody. It progressed through the teen shows like American Bandstand. He says it was television coverage of Vietnam that pushed many to protest. It gave them live coverage of events like the moon landing, JFK’s assassination and Nixon’s resignation.

The baby boomers have had their ups and downs, but they ended up a largely happy and accomplished generation. Television didn’t ruin them.

The pushback on the rap against Millennials is that they are accepting, optimistic, and, rather than narcissistic, confident in their future. And odds are that social media won’t ruin them either.

TIME feminism

American Eagle’s Anti-Photoshopping Campaign Is Insidious Stuff, Too

The company won't be airbrushing their lingerie models—but that doesn't mean they have girls and women's interests at heart.

American Eagle has announced that, in an effort to present more realistic role models for teens, it will not be using Photoshop in its new lingerie campaign. Images will appear unretouched, with such “imperfections” as stretch marks, fat, puckering, lines, tattoos, and beauty marks on display. It’s a noble effort at altering the discussion about what constitutes beauty. There’s only one problem: Magazines don’t make women feel bad about themselves. Other women do. And this is even truer when it comes to teenage girls.

A 2013 study out of Texas A&M of more than 235 girls aged 10 to 17 found that how they felt about their bodies was influenced more by peers than by certain forms of media, including TV. Social media has expanded the field of competition, too, with Facebook and Instagram doing as much, if not more, than the girls in the lunchroom to fuel feelings of insecurity. A 2011 study from the University of Haifa found that the more time adolescent girls spent on Facebook, the more likely they were to develop a negative body image and eating disorders. Blogs and photos that glorify weight loss with photos tagged #thinspiration or #thinspo, meanwhile, saturate the web, having increased by 470% between 2006 and 2008 alone. For teens, then, what matters more is the girls they know rather than the girls they don’t.

What’s more, by calling attention to the bodies of their unretouched models, American Eagle is doing exactly what it purports to be rallying against: Drawing attention to women’s figures and all their possible “flaws.” A similar hypocrisy occurred recently when website Jezebel offered $10,000 to anyone who could supply unretouched images from Lena Dunham’s Vogue cover shoot. Under the guise of supporting and defending a “normal size” body, they were, in fact, making a spectacle of it. American Eagle is no different.

And yet what else might we expect? The end game for the company isn’t, no matter what it claims, to save the self-esteem of American girls. It’s to increase profits by selling lingerie. If American Eagle is serious about changing the way the media presents women, their anti-airbrushing initiative should go into effect company-wide—more overall philosophy change than ad campaign. Otherwise, they’re just making money off of women’s bodies like everyone else.

The media’s use of airbrushing is no longer anything close to a secret, even if it’s not always discussed. And let’s not forget that American Eagle’s models are still professional models, paid to look good. And they do look good, “flaws” or not. Their photos are taken by professional photographers under ideal conditions, including professional grade lighting. These, American Eagle is saying, are real women, unretouched and proud of their bodies. (Just look at their cellulite!) The average 5-foot-5 American 18-year-old, meanwhile, weighs 147 pounds and has imperfect skin and takes most photos of herself using her smartphone.

Which is why it’s arguably preferable that campaigns continue the practice of airbrushing, and for teens and women to believe that most photos they see in advertisements and in magazines are enhanced, and couldn’t possibly represent the truth. It’s one thing to understand that you can’t live up to a celebrity ideal, or to the picture on the cover of a magazine—it’s not real anyway. But when the teenage girl still doesn’t live up to the unretouched, natural, “real” women in American Eagle’s ads, how will she view herself then?

TIME Gun Control

Smoking Guns: The Deafening Silence of the Assault Weapons Makers

Participants protest outside Cerberus Capital Management, a financial firm that holds a majority stake in Freedom Group, a company that produces assault rifles, to call on them to divest in Freedom Group, on Dec. 9, 2013 in New York City.
Andrew Burton / Getty Images Participants protest outside Cerberus Capital Management, a financial firm that holds a majority stake in Freedom Group, a company that produces assault rifles, to call on them to divest in Freedom Group, on Dec. 9, 2013 in New York City.

The companies that manufacture the world's high-powered assault rifles and shotguns are largely out of the public's eye, shrouded from the tragedies that they cause, thanks to a campaign waged by the National Rifle Association

When I hear about another military-style assault-weapon tragedy, I can’t help thinking about cigarettes.

It’s faded a bit into history now, but it was roughly 20 years ago that the heads of seven major tobacco companies were called before Congress to testify in hearings about regulating their products.

History was made when, one by one, they testified under oath that they, personally, did not believe nicotine is addictive – even though their scientists had generated box cars of data showing that creating addiction was precisely the point. One by one, the CEOs willfully deceived Congress in a roll call of commercial infamy: Philip Morris, RJ Reynolds, U.S. Tobacco, Lorillard, Liggett, Brown and Williamson, American Tobacco.

(MORE: Federal Judge Upholds Majority of New York Gun Control Law)

By the time the hearings were over, the CEOs were being called “The Seven Dwarfs.”

So, from cigarettes to guns: Where is that public debate with the makers of hollow point bullets, high capacity magazines, and weapons designed to harm and kill human beings as quickly as possible?

(By the way, if you want to wade into these waters, keep your facts straight. A fully automatic weapon fires bullets as long as you hold down the trigger. They’re not illegal, but they are highly regulated. A semiautomatic weapon fires as fast as you can pull the trigger. You can get one at Walmart. There is no technical definition of assault weapon, but it generally refers to both automatic and semiautomatic rifles. In fact, the very complexity of the 1994 federal assault weapons ban riddled it with so many exceptions that it proved largely ineffective.)

I’ve posed that question of the cigarette maker-gun maker connection in various forums, and I get some interesting, angry, and often logic- twisting responses.

Among my favorites:

– You can’t compare cigarettes and assault weapons. Cigarettes harm and kill a lot more people. Accountability for these two product-related deaths tolls, then, is a matter of degree.

– Why not regulate blunt instruments? More people are killed by hammers each year than by guns – including assault weapons. The fact is: if you torture the data long enough you can make it confess to anything. And there is no doubt that there is a cottage industry on both sides in making statistics fit arguments.

But missing in those arguments: of all the implements used to kill people — knives, fists or a handy vase – only guns are created to do exactly that, and only assault weapons are manufactured expressly to do that as quickly as possible. Seriously – could Adam Lanza have dispatched 26 innocent souls in Newtown in five minutes with anything but an assault weapon?

(MORE: AK-47 Inventor Wrote of ‘Unbearable’ Pain)

And of course, there is the second amendment. I won’t try to imagine what was in the minds of the Founding Fathers. But I’m going to guess their thinking did not include high-capacity magazines (the ones Lanza carried held 30 bullets each) that serve up a new bullet as soon as the previous one is fired, and bullets designed to explode inside your body.

Still, as we debate statistics and parse definitions, the public is largely unaware of the companies that are making the weapons that are the subject of the debate. And that is exactly as intended.

Who can come up with the names of the top makers of semi-automatic weapons: like Bushmaster, Sig Sauer, Colt, Smith & Wesson, ArmaLite, DPMS and others?

The reason most people can’t name these companies is because of a very slick sleight of hand – executed flawlessly by NRA’s Wayne LaPierre, the gleefully belligerent face of the NRA who expertly draws attention away from the industry he represents.

LaPierre is very good at a job he is paid a lot of money to do. As long as we’re talking about his outrageous bluster, we’re not talking about the people who make a lot of money from the products he wants to keep on shelves of the local sporting goods store and laid out at gun shows.

His ability to do that is increasingly important to the industry. As hunting declines, so do rifle sales – even with periodic spikes driven by fears of gun restrictions. Long term, how do you replace that? A report from the Violence Policy Center argues that selling military-style assault rifles – re-branded as “modern sporting rifles” – to civilians has been a key part of the industry’s marketing strategy since the 1980s. Women, say gun control advocates and the industry alike, are a high marketing priority. The gun makers insist it’s for their protection. The lethal AR-15 (used in both the Aurora and Newtown killings) comes in pink. (Available now at Gun Goddess.com)

As the debate over assault weapons rages on, the deafening silence of the gun makers reminds me of a lyric in the Jackson Brown song – “Lives in the Balance.” “I want to know who the men in the shadows are. I want to hear somebody asking them why.”

Those who have been killed and injured by weapons made expressly for that purpose deserve no less.

TIME society

Let’s End the Hugging Arms Race

Man and woman hugging.
Getty Images

I am not a hugger. And I am not alone.

It was a lovely party. Really. The wine was exquisite. The salmon canapés were memorable. The people were interesting. Conversation flowed easily through soft notes from the piano.

And then something went terribly wrong.

I sensed movement on my left. Coming at me like a drone strike was a known hugger; a dear friend, but a man who believed that personal space had plenty of room for two.

I could feel my flight or flee hormones surge. But resistance would be rude, and running was out of the question – especially in these heels. So I gave into his embrace, my hands just lightly on his sides. We broke soon enough. “So great to see you. How long has it been?” But for the rest of the evening, I carried his aftershave like a citrusy infection.

I am not a hugger. And I am not alone.

These are difficult times for those of us who are selective in our casual intimacies. Hugs, it seems, have become as common as hellos. Even among those prone to reach out and touch someone, these are also confusing times. A handshake is a handshake. But a hug demands an evolving set of calculations: setting, familiarity and – most dicey of all — reciprocation. Few things are more awkward than a hugger leaning in for a hug, as the hugee reaches out for a shake. The usual simultaneous reversals by both only ups the awkwardness, and sets up the next meeting for a repeat.

Men seem to have adapted well. They have managed to make the hug an extension of the handshake. A grasp of the hand, a quick touch at shoulders (the one-second rule applies, anything longer than that will be noticed), a few taps on the back and… clear.

For women, things are more complex.

Woman to woman, we always have the air-kiss. But that has become a red-carpet cliché – mainly for the most formal of occasions where time and money have been invested in cosmetic preparations. Denied the option of the shoulder-touch/back-tap (we should probably work on a variation of that), we’re left with a binary decision: to hug, or not to hug. The choice is situational, subject to all the vagaries of place and relationship.

Man-women is a whole other kettle o’fish. Awkward can easily careen into inappropriate. I feel my brothers’ pain. The first meeting is a handshake. Clear enough. But unless you’re operating under the rules of international diplomacy, the unease grows with each encounter. New friends become good friends, and at some point the handshake may seem impersonal, an even cold. What is that point? And who makes the call?

There can be a high price for getting it wrong. A male friend – not to my knowledge a high-volume hugger – may carry the scars of miscalculation for life. “I was part of a project team,” he said. “A younger woman and I did a lot of work together on a critical part of it. We got some big news on results. There was a feeling of celebration. I went for the hug. She put both hands on my chest and pushed me back. Didn’t say a word. Every time I see her now, it’s what I think about. So – never again.”

I told him not to take it personally; and to get on with his life. It may be that she was simply following the advice that women should not hug at work – not because it’s inappropriate, but because it looks weak. There are some good rules about body-language and leadership: head tilts can look submissive. Touching your face shows insecurity. Too much nodding in agreement relinquishes power. Hugging, many argue, is covered by the same set of rules. It can take a woman from the office alpha to the office mom.

Like most shows of emotion, that can be situational. In some work settings – nurses and social workers come to mind – hugging can be a useful part of the job description. Young kids in the classroom often need hugs; school boards have been forced to put in policies against them. In a psychologist’s office, it’s a judgment call. Refusing a hug from a patient can feel like rejection. Accepting one can be a big compilation in the patient-therapist relationship. When hugging seems to be a possibility, most therapists would say: set up the rules in advance. My people aren’t big on spontaneity.

All of this comes together to elevate a simple gesture to what some call a state of “hugging anxiety.” A simple gesture has become so imbued with options and so fraught with meaning (or no meaning at all) that we need a universal declaration of rules.

I would love to be able to wear my rules like a campaign button. They’re very simple. I won’t if you won’t. And we’ll like each other just as much.

Your browser is out of date. Please update your browser at http://update.microsoft.com