dear agony aunt, am i the asshole?
In the age of "Am I The Asshole" queries and instant replies, what is the relevance of agony aunts and their advice columns?
Human beings are curious creatures. There is a certain kind of kick our brains get when we learn about the personal dilemmas of a complete stranger. And there is only one thing we like better than gossip — passing judgements. And they both combined? Divine!
As the description of r/AmITheAsshole — a subreddit where anonymous Reddit users post about the conflicts they had been in, to a community of 18 million users and seek their judgement on the question “Am I The Asshole” — says, there is a “frustrated moral philosopher in all of us.”
Before subreddits and discord servers came around to give every chronically online (and judgemental) moral philosopher a voice, we had a more dignified, collective voice — advice columnists, aka, agony aunts.
As a teenager growing up in the 2010s when print magazines were still a thing and every home had a subscription to a women’s lifestyle magazine with an agony aunt column, my inner moral philosopher had been satiated way before r/AITA became a thing.
One of my earliest memories of cathartic justice was reading the answer to a question from a mother who worried that her 4-year-old daughter was under the devil’s influence because she hated prayer time. The column’s author admonished the woman for holding her toddler to an adult’s standards and asked her to focus on something productive. In other words, the author asked the mother to touch grass.
For generations of teenagers and adults (dating back to the 17th century, actually), advice columns have been the first introductions to complex feelings and taboo questions. “They offered perspectives that were sometimes missing from my immediate social circles. This early exposure to diverse viewpoints and empathetic advice helped shape my understanding of various human experiences,” says Yosef (38).
Like Yosef and many others, the first time I heard of many hushed topics was through these columns — unsymmetrical boobs, discoloured labia, non-committal boyfriends, and lavender marriages. It was a rite of passage for us.
Advice columns are still around, and their popularity is increasing again with the GenZ girls who grew up learning from agony aunts graduating to be the next generation of agony aunts.
But in today’s Internet landscape, where one can get almost instantaneous answers from a vast group of strangers from varied backgrounds, why would one write to an advice column and wait for days, even weeks for an answer from a self-proclaimed expert on the spectrum of human emotions and feelings? Read on to find out.
Agony aunt columns are historical relics. Reading an advice column from the archives can provide valuable information about the socio-economic conditions of the women from the time it was written. It also helps us understand their dominant problems, how they were treated, their ambitions, and much more.
A major reason I prefer agony aunts over anonymous trolls on the internet is their visible humanness. They take the time to explain themselves and don’t just give a customary three-word response as if that is supposed to be helpful to anyone. “It's nice to have one person respond and know they're going to take you seriously rather than having to wade through a thousand comments that may or may not be helpful,” says Zara (24), a fellow GenZ who has recently discovered the magic of advice columns.
According to Helen (40), a veteran reader of popular agony aunts like “Ask A Manager,” “Ask Philippa,” and “Dear Prudence,” the advice from agony aunts is more useful than what you find online because agony aunts act from a place of balance and detachment. “I've written into advice columns several times and have had a couple of replies,” Helen adds. “While I haven't always agreed with the answers, they have at least helped me make up my mind. Sometimes, just knowing that I disagree is a way to point me towards a decision.”
Agony aunts are usually non-judgemental and come from a place of care, compassion, and a genuine desire to help their readers and provide value to their community. For instance, Grayce McCormick, former host of “Dear Tracy, the Relationship Expert” on Sirius XM Radio is always intentional with her advice.
“When I encounter a question I don't have the answer to, I handle it with transparency and resourcefulness,” Grayce says opening up about the behind-the-scenes of being an agony aunt. “I acknowledge the question, do my best to research and gather accurate information, and if I still can't find the answer, I openly admit my uncertainty while suggesting other sources.”
Another example is Karishma Swarup, a sexuality educator and author of a sexual-health-focused advice column on The Telegraph India, who tells me that the motivation behind her column is to dismantle the myths associated with sex and sexuality among Indians. “People panic when it comes to their sexual health. Because the first thing about googling something going on with you is that you end up down rabbit holes. So I try to create a safe space and tell them: Listen. It’s totally fine. You are gonna be alright,” she says.
According to Karishma, a key benefit of consulting an advice column over internet communities is the credibility of the information shared. “While lived experiences are valid, crowd-sourced information can often be misleading due to lack of comprehension of the context and specifics of the situation,” she explains. Another important difference, Karishma notes is the tone of the answers. “The training I have received helps me with the tone and style I answer which is crucial when dealing with sensitive topics,” she points out.
Now, when we are not looking for advice or expertise, we are often looking for reassurance. Our favourite agony aunts have got that covered too. Philippa Perry, author of The Guardian’s weekly column “Ask Philippa.” shared on X (formerly Twitter), “As an agony aunt, I get a lot of emails where the writer has decided what to do but needs encouragement and permission to go ahead. Sometimes I feel like I'm dispensing licences. It is a lovely job.”
For devoted readers of advice columns, the authors behind them are like adoptee mothers or big sisters. Sometimes, like Isabelle (55) often does, they feel heard and seen. “Whether we take the advice, it is sometimes helpful to see the reasoning behind their advice, as we’re sipping tea, realizing that we too, in fact, may have gone through a similar situation, or are currently in the middle of the exact scenario,” Isabelle paints us a picture.
Other times, like Mary (61), they put themselves in the shoes of the agony aunt and compare their wisdom to the author’s. “Sometimes, they see parts of the situation I don't see. Other times, they miss a huge part of the system around the person, and make the mistake of seeing the questioner in isolation,” she confesses. “I also love to see what kinds of trouble my fellow human beings get themselves into. We've all been there.”
Advice columns are like the classic vinyl records of wisdom — they never go out of style. But agony aunts do more than just dish out advice. They force you to think, empathise, and partake in the little worries of a fellow being. They appeal to the human in us. In a world where we are constantly isolated in our anonymous little bubbles with the freedom to be rude to other people sharing their worries from their anonymous little bubbles, agony aunts remind us to be kind.
Also, the use case of an instant reply platform, say r/AmITheAsshole and a well-thought-out advice column is different. You may get instant replies on Reddit, but nothing beats the charm of a well-written column. The former is a quick fix, a burger from a fast food joint. The latter is a gourmet meal, something to be relished slowly.