We are losing the battle to protect our teens from a mob mentality that now infests the online world
HOLD your whist. Mum’s the word. The walls have ears. Don’t throw caution to the wind. Careful who you’re talking to. Don’t wash dirty linen in public. The less said the better. A shut mouth catches no flies.
We’ve all heard such pronouncements in various guises. But sometimes an old cliché can embody some sage advice. There is a time and place when silence can indeed be golden. But as the fallout from the Belfast rape trial continues to ebb and flow, we are reminded a generation has come of age, where discretion is not always seen as the better part of valour.
It must be emphasised once again the accused – after the criminal law had taken its course – were acquitted on all charges. That remains the singular salient fact of the entire process.
But in the meantime, we also learned how some of those in the dock had placed some of their most personal thoughts on a messaging app. Given all the controversy their comments have generated, this trial in its totality has emerged as a kind of parable for our times.
Proclaiming details about their private lives came back to haunt those involved in almost unimaginable fashion. In the court of public opinion, their remarks would lead to a kind of trial within a trial – devoid of any legal basis. Details of their private messaging, which tumbled into the public arena, provoked unprecedented debate. There has been much discussion as to whether such views are reflective of a new era in sexual mores. Are such comments suggestive of a particular brand of so-called rugby macho culture? Are they redolent of attitudes to women spawned especially by the internet age?
Yet little attention has been focused on one of the key points to emerge from the trial. Why did sportsmen of such high profile feel the need to record such graphic asides – not knowing who exactly might eventually stumble upon such material? What was the root psychology behind such actions? The easy answer is to suggest it was a kind of sexual bravado designed to impress their peers. But the language used surely had a harder edge to it than would normally be linked to braggart adolescent males extolling their attitudes to women.
Overall, the trial was a reminder that the human instinct to ‘sound off’ on all sorts of topics knows no bounds. Nothing particularly wrong with that. But the drama played out in that Belfast courtroom put into stark focus the hazards inherent in an era of electronic commentary. The law of unintended consequence was played out as a backdrop to much of the proceedings. Those in the dock could not have predicted, even in their wildest dreams, how certain fateful words and sentences tapped on to a smartphone could have such impact on their lives.
In the wider world, there is a growing predilection for posting risky commentary on the web. This is not necessarily confined to the younger generation. Of course, those in the younger age group are rooted in the culture of a computerised world in ways incomprehensible to those of more mature vintage. They have been spawned in the kind of virtual reality on offer from Twitter, Facebook, and the like. But many older users also throw caution to the wind in the rush to get their views on some platform for all the world to see.
As emotions reached fever pitch in the wake of the Belfast trial, some of the judgments posted on the web – on what was essentially a criminal process – certainly sailed close to the wind. Groupthink in particular gained its own momentum. To more seasoned observers, there was an increasing inevitability that action for alleged defamation would follow. The legal fallout from what happened in courtroom number 12 of the Laganside Crown Courts building may not yet be over.
It is all a reminder of the risks endemic in proclaiming certain views online that are devoid of forethought. Yet the temptation to go ahead and give vent to deeply held feelings is understandable. It’s all so easy. And for energised users of outlets such as Twitter, there is a form of instant gratification by way of provoking reaction, all too often from complete strangers.
Yet there is surely growing evidence that messages and information are finding their way online without full realisation of the damage that can be caused to the sender. The worldwide web is a place without mercy. In the whirlwind of this super-tech age, there is no knowing the eventual destination of words and views expressed. They can come back to haunt the sender, even within the confines of a WhatsApp group, as was so graphically highlighted in the fallout from the trial.
Experts point out the possibility of a civil court action for those who cannot restrain what is often a rush to judgment. But where there is a group dynamic at play – such as among a collection of sportsmen – a rubicon has surely been passed. There is now surely a realisation that being part of a collective, such as membership of a WhatsApp exchange, offers little comfort should matters stray into the legal world. However, on outlets such as Twitter, some users find it all too easy to sound off at will, fuelling a kind of mob mentality that can be a magnet for ever-more unthinking commentary.
RECENT events suggest the proposed sexual consent classes for young adolescents, mooted in the last few days, should also include instruction on the perils of the online world. Experts point out some of its dark forces are already causing serious psychological damage to children. Its all-pervasive influence and accessibility is now the ultimate challenge for childrearing. And all the while there are the more tangible hazards of social media, such as the untold misery provoked by online bullying.
We are entering an era of lost innocence in the young. The battle to keep the despoiling effects of electronic exchange and online activity away from those not yet mature enough to make informed judgments is being lost. But parents who are themselves addicted to social media in all its many guises – and the sometimes fantasy world which is part of the web – may themselves be part of a problem devoid of easy solution.
But parents who are themselves addicted to social media in all its many guises may be part of a problem devoid of an easy solution