Social media is a serpent consuming its own tail. Time to cut it off...
Hana KIMuRa was a Japanese professional wrestler and a star of the netflix reality show, Terrace House, a twist on Big Brother. She took her life last year at the age of 22.
This week, a male from Osaka, whose identity has been kept secret, was fined 9,000 yen for cyber-bullying including a string of messages that Kimura found distressing and affecting. ‘Is your life worth living?’ she was asked, and ‘When will you die?’
In the days before her death, Kimura was clearly troubled by the relentless negativity swirling around her. ‘I don’t want to be a human any more,’ she posted. ‘It was a life I wanted to be loved. Thank you everyone, I love you. Bye.’
So that’s the worth of a human life on social media: 9,000 yen; or converted to sterling, 59 quid. The maximum fine in Japan for the offence of making public insults is £66. Kimura’s tormentor did not even get the full sentence. Meanwhile, for those requiring a little additional perspective, Instagram has an estimated worth of £72.5billion.
and there, perhaps, is the logical end to sport’s own cycle of online abuse, hounding and summary retribution. It just hasn’t happened yet. That we know of.
Claude Callegari, a 58-year-old arsenal fanatic and formerly a regular on arsenal Fan TV, died this week, after a cryptic post announcing he ‘would disappear soon to see my mother then you can all be happy’. It can be presumed from his tone that whoever he was addressing had not been wishing him well.
Callegari may have been more fragile than his robust online presence suggested. On July 1, 2016, Essex Police appealed for help in finding him. Callegari had last been seen at 11.30am on Thursday. This was at 8am on Friday. Most adults can go a night without checking in before anyone notifies police. Yet the statement read: ‘ Our officers and his family are extremely concerned for his welfare…’ suggesting issues.
‘We haven’t spoken to Claude since the end of the season but we were aware of some of the disgusting trolling he’s been recently subjected to,’ said his colleagues at aFTV. That day, Callegari made contact with his family. all’s well that ends well.
and then, on July 12, 2020, Tottenham beat arsenal 2- 1. Callegari was one of the voices on the aFTV live stream and when Son Heung-min was substituted in the 89th minute he could be heard saying in the background, ‘DVD’s going off…’
This is a common slur aimed at asian footballers playing on the stereotype of selling fake merchandise, particularly films. as Son is the most high profile asian footballer in Britain one imagines he hears it more than most. and,
for a YouTube channel with significant sponsors, partners and a million subscribers, it is wholly unacceptable. After a failed attempt at mitigation — it was first claimed the comment was intended to make fun of Tottenham for selling merchandise of rare victories over Arsenal — AFTV sacked Callegari.
He reappeared as Claude and the Bansta’s on his own YouTube channel. A fraction of the following — around 63,000 — but enough to draw the attention of those who live to bait.
And this was Callegari’s world. He chose it. In many ways, he fed it too. AFTV rose to prominence for the rants that followed every defeat under Arsene Wenger. One might even argue the poisonous mood inside the Emirates was in part their work.
Even so, whatever happened next, there is something pitiful in Callegari’s last message. Something that speaks of a man unable to control the monster he helped create. Something of Sweepyface about it.
Sweepyface was Brenda Leyland, a 63-year- old divorced mother living in the Leicestershire village of Burton Overy. She was a university graduate and churchgoer, with a disguised and spiteful secret life, obsessively trolling Gerry and Kate McCann. She was obsessed with the disappearance of their daughter Madeleine and what she falsely believed was their part in it.
Much of what she wrote was horrible until one day, after a Sky News investigation into online trolling, she was confronted in the street by their reporter Martin Brunt and his camera crew. Now, it was Sweepyface who had the hounds of online hell on her trail. She fled to a Marriott in Leicester where, three days later, she killed herself. And then the mob turned on Brunt, for provoking this.
Social media is modern society’s ouroboros, the serpent perpetually consuming its own tail. Callegari and his mob went after Arsenal managers — online tributes and highlight reels this week all included a clip of him grabbing the microphone and shouting ‘it’s time to go!’ about Unai Emery after a, wait for it, 2- 2 draw with Crystal
Palace — and then the mob went after Callegari after the DVD comment and on and on until, well, here we are. Thierry Henry (below) came off social media this week. Arsenal’s players are talking of following him. Gareth Southgate, the England manager, says he will discuss a social media blackout with his players during this summer’s European Championship. It is far from the worst idea, particularly as the picture he painted of a modern post-match dressing room was terrifying. ‘If you spoke to every manager in the country,’ said Southgate, ‘one of their biggest concerns is that after a game players are scrolling through their phones. It’s a vulnerable time, they are tired, fatigued — and what voice are they listening to? Companies in charge don’t seem to be controlling it at the moment.’ Yet controlling what? Those moments spent reading timelines in the aftermath, who is in control of that? Not Mark Zuckerberg. Not Jack Dorsey. You. By all means ban social media, but never forget whose name, whose identity, is on that account whether sender or receiver. Yours. It is in your power to block, to ignore, to withdraw, to count to 10, to apply context, and return to a life that every Sweepyface, every tormentor cannot invade.
This applies to mainstream media too. These days, how often do you read that an organisation or an individual has been ‘slammed by fans’ and the reality turns out to be four tweets by anons with about 17 followers between them?
Yet the person in the centre of that confected storm is made to feel as if the world has gathered, with burning torches. It might as well be one table, in a pub. Sometimes less.
A front page story in a national newspaper alleging fury some years back was based on a single negative tweet about Andy Murray. Imagine writing that same report, but the source was a bloke on his own, mumbling into his fifth pint in a corner of the Red Lion one Friday. ‘Bert, a 48-year- old unemployed plasterer, said…’ We give social media far too much credence.
This is why it ends up killing people like Kimura. This is why managers are worried when they see those anxious eyes seeking approval after the match is done. In those moments, it feels the globe is against you. Not trolls, not creeps, but worthies, people whose opinions truly matter.
It is easy to forget who is in control. It’s not them, it’s you. Leave them to goad each other. Take a deep breath. Look around. See the reality. Feeling doubtful? Feeling anxious? Feeling blue? Switch it off.