In
the beginning was the web. A playful, creative and open space, where
anyone could connect, and every assumption, every hierarchy, could be
challenged. Instead of textbooks and newspapers handing down fact and
opinion from on high, there was a blossoming of online communities,
sparky self-starting blogs, and Wikipedia to set the wisdom of crowds to
work.Somewhere along the way, however, as the internet moved from the
computer on your desk to the phone in your pocket, it ceased to be a quirky corner of life, and instead became the environment in which much human life was lived – for better, and for worse. The engagement continued, of course, but along with online camaraderie, the vituperative modes of interaction took hold: bullying, shaming and intimidation. Worse, instead of upending old assumptions, much of this new online abuse works to reinforce ancient prejudices. For women it frequently assumes a particularly violent and sexualised form, sometimes extending to public rape threats; for ethnic minorities it is often racist.
With 40% of American adults complaining of online abuse and 73% having witnessed it, we have reached a tipping point. Police forces acknowledge that existing laws are not working. Social media companies, so laissez-faire for so long, are at last trying to work out what to do, with Twitter’s former CEO Dick Costolo confirming that harassment on its site cost it core customers, and conceding that “we suck at dealing with abuse” before stepping down. Around the world, politicians are waking up.To say that something must be done is the easy bit. Before deciding what that something should be, it is important to get to the roots of where all the net nastiness comes from. For some, it is simply human nature, the inescapably nasty and brutish ways of the world finding electronic expression. Others, however, are less fatalistic, including inspiring victims of abuse who have resolved to stand their ground and fight back. They point to problems with the rules of engagement, with some suggesting that the freedom to invent a new identity is, like Plato’s ring of Gyges, taken as a freedom to slip free of all morality. Others point to the appalling lack of women in technology. Researchers say that computer science has the largest diversity gap of “almost any profession”, and the percentage of women in tech companies has actually dropped since the 1980s.
There is, however, no need to despair – for we have been here before. Physical chastisement of women at home was once unexceptional, racist name-calling “a bit of fun”, and bottom-pinching at work an everyday occurrence, something to be endured, because it was not going to change. Slowly but surely, though, time was called on such shoulder-shrugging indifference, and the world changed. After the will to act is summoned afresh, the question becomes how to act smartly. Does society better stop abuse by drawing attention to it, or is that just feeding the trolls? Are there changes to the law that could ensure better protection and policing of this shared space? What responsibility lies with platforms like Facebook; and then, what responsibility lies with publishers such as the Guardian?Our Comment is free site (now called Opinion) opened up our columnists to reader challenge in 2006, and the idea that every reader can have their say is something that has made our pages special ever since. Much of the debate between readers and writers has been fascinating. But some subjects – historically Israel/Palestine, and today Islam, refugees or immigration – attract hate like a magnet. For the great bulk of our readers, and – yes – to respect the wellbeing of our staff too, we need to take a more proactive stance on what kind of material appears on the Guardian site.
Thanks to our skilled moderators, much of the abuse on our site is at the milder end of the spectrum. But even this can derail conversations and have a chilling effect on writers. So the Guardian today launches a series to find the right answers – “The web we want”. As part of it, we are publishing our own analysis of abuse on our site; other platforms that have been reticent until now must follow suit. In the light of the diagnosis, the prescription must then be debated – and openly. True to the spirit of the whole endeavour, we want to know what all our readers think, including all those who rarely comment.
As Sarah Joeng, author of The Internet of Garbage, says: “If private platforms are to become communities, agoras, tiny new societies, they have to make a real effort to collect the garbage.” Who takes out the trash? Who cleans the streets? We all have a responsibility. Let’s have the debate, take out the trash, and create the web we want.
computer on your desk to the phone in your pocket, it ceased to be a quirky corner of life, and instead became the environment in which much human life was lived – for better, and for worse. The engagement continued, of course, but along with online camaraderie, the vituperative modes of interaction took hold: bullying, shaming and intimidation. Worse, instead of upending old assumptions, much of this new online abuse works to reinforce ancient prejudices. For women it frequently assumes a particularly violent and sexualised form, sometimes extending to public rape threats; for ethnic minorities it is often racist.
With 40% of American adults complaining of online abuse and 73% having witnessed it, we have reached a tipping point. Police forces acknowledge that existing laws are not working. Social media companies, so laissez-faire for so long, are at last trying to work out what to do, with Twitter’s former CEO Dick Costolo confirming that harassment on its site cost it core customers, and conceding that “we suck at dealing with abuse” before stepping down. Around the world, politicians are waking up.To say that something must be done is the easy bit. Before deciding what that something should be, it is important to get to the roots of where all the net nastiness comes from. For some, it is simply human nature, the inescapably nasty and brutish ways of the world finding electronic expression. Others, however, are less fatalistic, including inspiring victims of abuse who have resolved to stand their ground and fight back. They point to problems with the rules of engagement, with some suggesting that the freedom to invent a new identity is, like Plato’s ring of Gyges, taken as a freedom to slip free of all morality. Others point to the appalling lack of women in technology. Researchers say that computer science has the largest diversity gap of “almost any profession”, and the percentage of women in tech companies has actually dropped since the 1980s.
There is, however, no need to despair – for we have been here before. Physical chastisement of women at home was once unexceptional, racist name-calling “a bit of fun”, and bottom-pinching at work an everyday occurrence, something to be endured, because it was not going to change. Slowly but surely, though, time was called on such shoulder-shrugging indifference, and the world changed. After the will to act is summoned afresh, the question becomes how to act smartly. Does society better stop abuse by drawing attention to it, or is that just feeding the trolls? Are there changes to the law that could ensure better protection and policing of this shared space? What responsibility lies with platforms like Facebook; and then, what responsibility lies with publishers such as the Guardian?Our Comment is free site (now called Opinion) opened up our columnists to reader challenge in 2006, and the idea that every reader can have their say is something that has made our pages special ever since. Much of the debate between readers and writers has been fascinating. But some subjects – historically Israel/Palestine, and today Islam, refugees or immigration – attract hate like a magnet. For the great bulk of our readers, and – yes – to respect the wellbeing of our staff too, we need to take a more proactive stance on what kind of material appears on the Guardian site.
Thanks to our skilled moderators, much of the abuse on our site is at the milder end of the spectrum. But even this can derail conversations and have a chilling effect on writers. So the Guardian today launches a series to find the right answers – “The web we want”. As part of it, we are publishing our own analysis of abuse on our site; other platforms that have been reticent until now must follow suit. In the light of the diagnosis, the prescription must then be debated – and openly. True to the spirit of the whole endeavour, we want to know what all our readers think, including all those who rarely comment.
As Sarah Joeng, author of The Internet of Garbage, says: “If private platforms are to become communities, agoras, tiny new societies, they have to make a real effort to collect the garbage.” Who takes out the trash? Who cleans the streets? We all have a responsibility. Let’s have the debate, take out the trash, and create the web we want.
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