Anonymity spurs online hate
I AM brainless, pushing an agenda for the Left, pushing an agenda for the Right.
I am unprofessional, lazy, ugly, a foolish female who contributes little to the world and simply depletes it of oxygen.
I must be off my meds, be psychiatrically ill, and my parents and children must be ashamed of such a shallow, selfish, stupid family member.
I deserve to die and the world would be better off without me.
The internet is a savage place, particularly for those who use it to communicate with a broad audience, such as columnists. I know: I cop it almost every week, no matter what I write about.
Words can hurt but when haters talk with their fingers, the words “abuse” or “hate” seem too kind. The hatred for strangers online has a new, nebulous, fiery red, murderous shape.
It matters not whether I have written about vegetarianism, Manus Island, disability access or politics, it seems that keyboard warriors awaken early with damage and insults on their minds.
While the haters come in many names and guises, comments from women are often the worst, and I am not alone in finding their barbs particularly sharp.
A 2014 survey by cosmetics firm Dove and Twitter found that of more than five million negative tweets posted about beauty and body image, 80 per cent appeared to come from women.
The saying goes that if you don’t like the heat, get out of the kitchen. But when that adage was invented, the heat and the kitchen were at least in the same room.
In the online exchanges, bile can be projectile-spewed from another realm about another topic entirely.
Where once a person might be incensed enough to write a nasty letter, they most often signed it. In digital missives, an invisibility cloak shrouds identities.
The internet is like a kind of virtual booze. People load up and in their stupor, they let fly at strangers in ways they never would in person.
Psychologists say it is all but impossible to be so directly hateful and hurtful in person, one-on-one. Humans have wiring for some compassion for living things.
The editor who appointed me as a weekly columnist almost 15 years ago advised me about how to deal with particularly hateful missives. Be respectful in response, he said, but do not concede or back down.
And if they come in for a second kick, tell them to get lost and feel free never to read my column again.
His was a kind of jackboots diplomacy and while I have acted on his advice on occasion, acrimony has never sat easily. In life, I find you get further with honey than vinegar.
Hate speech, building in intensity for some time, has exploded online recently. Some analysts are calling it, perhaps unfairly, the Trump Effect.
Germany has moved quickly, enacting a law known as the Facebook Act that makes online hate and threats the same as in-person ones.
Canada has experienced a similar rise, and media and marketing company Cision noted a 600 per cent rise in online hate speech between November 2015 and November 2016.
Internet might be only words and images, but these are causing unprecedented concern. Anti-Defamation League CEO Jonathan Greenblatt said recently there were genuine fears hate was being normalised, bringing real-world violence and inciting crime.
The internet brings good and hateful people together: A 2016 study from George Washington University found that on Twitter alone, white nationalist and supremacist groups have seen their followers grow by 600 per cent since 2012.
I am not convinced legislation is the best way to rein in the online hate trend but there has to be hope: communities can apply social pressure for good as well as ill to bring about positive changes if they want it enough.
Hurtful, hateful behaviour should be firmly rejected and praise for goodness needs to be amplified.
No person has ever won over another with aggro and ire; no bridge of understanding has ever been built that way.
The will for change must come from within. Dr Jane Fynes-Clinton is the journalism program co-ordinator at the University of the Sunshine Coast.