As a rule, I’m not a violent person. All bets are off if you mess with someone I love, much less a dog, cat, parakeet, or ferret, but in general, I don’t enjoy beating up anyone (a rarity), being beaten up (slightly less rare), or watching people beat up other people. I make exceptions for Turkish wrestling.

So it’s no surprise that I’m no fan of the war in Gaza. Israel’s “war on terror” is likely to go about as well the one that America began waging two decades ago and may still be waging, but who knows because we’ve stopped talking about it because fighting a concept is a great way to keep a battle on the back burner without having to give daily updates.

More importantly, conceptual wars have excruciatingly concrete results, like the countless casualties in Afghanistan and Iraq or, in this case, in Israel, Gaza, the Westbank, and neighboring regions. It looks very much like a lose-lose situation, and I would like nothing more than to see it end. (I can say that while simultaneously acknowledging Israel’s right to exist and also Palestinians’ right to exist.)

But honestly, who cares what I would like? What standing do I have to say anything about the war in Israel? I’m just a guy — a guy who is not a politician, a guy who does not work for the state department, a guy who has only a vague sense of the complexities involved in the history of the Levant leading up to today. I have neither the expertise nor the authority, much less the power, to call for one action or another with regard to the war.

Along the same lines (and this is my real point, apologies for the prologue), can someone please explain why a school board has called for a cease-fire in what is essentially a civil war in a foreign country? Why do the members of that board feel entitled to make political suggestions or demands? Why do they feel qualified to propose plans?

I can’t say for certain, but like other olds, I feel qualified to shake my fist in the air and blame social media. Now that people, companies, and governments are forced to be transparent about absolutely everything — and now that everyone with a smartphone has a voice to urge them to do so — people, companies, and governments (and school boards and unions) feel compelled to make a statement about everything, whether or not they have any expertise on the thing in question.

Look, you want to feel a particular way about the war, great. Root for Palestine, root for Israel, call for an end to war, or simply refuse to have a pat opinion about a political situation that has been byzantine since Jewish immigration to the region began surging over a century ago and became exponentially more complex once independence was declared. (Would things have been better if Herzl et al. had made Uganda their homeland? Doubtful.)

But for the love of Christiane Amanpour, stop insisting that every coffee shoppe and quilting influencer make bold statements about this and other world events. I know that you want to understand the brands you buy, that you want to feel allegiance to them on a deeper level. I also know that you want their statements to be bite-sized and easily digestible, with no room for nuance or context beyond the logic gate of yes/no, black/white, good/bad. You crave something short and sweet to sum up something that is neither.

Maybe you should stay in your lane and let others do so, too.