Players must join Henry boycott to prove appetite for real change
➤ Sacrificing benefits of an online profile would create watershed moment in fight against social media abuse
Gary Bloom, the sports psychotherapist, has a neat way of articulating football’s dilemma over its use of social media: “The game is chasing the thing that poisons it.”
Bloom’s point is that football, and footballers, have become addicted to the benefits of social media – the chance to build brands, face up to fans and optimise “content” – even if so many of the side effects are toxic. For proof, simply look at the reaction to Thierry Henry becoming the highest-profile athlete to come off his platforms last Friday because of the “mental torture” of online racist abuse.
Everyone agrees that “something simply has to be done”, but in terms of concrete actions? Nothing. It means we have to question how football wants to effect real change when it comes to online abuse, especially racist abuse. We are stuck in a wretched cycle: there are vile incidents of racist abuse, there is a backlash and yet beyond the odd formal complaint from clubs or urgings from football authorities for the social media companies to “do something”, nothing happens.
On one level, the reticence of players to follow Henry’s lead is understandable. Many are on social media for a purpose and that is not just to engage with fans. It is to grow their profile and make sure they are well positioned for commercial opportunities.
It is one of the reasons so many player accounts are – to put it kindly – rather bland. An example: after England beat Albania on Sunday, Harry Maguire and Phil Foden posted almost identical tweets. “Two wins from two. Focus now on Wednesday,” Maguire wrote. “Two from two!! Can’t wait for Wednesday,” Foden tweeted.
There were striking similarities, too, in “Job done” tweets from Jesse Lingard and Mason Mount (below).
It prompted a response from Gary Neville, who – not necessarily meaning these two players – tweeted: “Reading some of the England players’ tweets last night. Do any of the lads post themselves? They don’t sound authentic. It’s a real shame they don’t manage their personal connection to the fans and media.”
There is an irony in this, given Neville attempted to get England players to say as little as possible when he was a coach at Euro 2016, but he does have a point. Many footballers employ third parties to manage their social accounts – which can yield its own headaches, as Joe Hart discovered recently when his team erroneously tweeted “Job done” just after Tottenham Hotspur had been knocked out of the Europa League.
There is nothing wrong with maximising exposure and digital representation – social media is an important part of our strategy at Telegraph Media Group – but there is an obvious problem for players who have come to rely on these platforms choosing to walk away on a point of principle.
Henry did, and should be applauded for doing so, but perhaps it is a little easier for him to walk away from 15 million followers because he does not rely on it as many players do, especially those in the lower leagues who need the money and can fight for a better boot deal or an endorsement if they have a higher profile.
Bloom, who addresses the issue of social media in his fine new book
Keeping Your Head in the Game, describes it as a “crave and hate” relationship. “It’s like the joke that Woody Allen uses at the end of
Annie Hall,” he says. “This guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, ‘Doc, my brother’s crazy! He thinks he’s a chicken’. And the doctor says, ‘Why don’t you turn him in?’ And the guy says, ‘I would, but I need the eggs’.”
Gareth Bale suggested yesterday that he would endorse any campaign to quit social media in an effort to effect change, but there seems precious little appetite to launch one. A couple of years ago, the Professional Footballers’ Association encouraged players to boycott social media for 24 hours, which many did – but to little effect.
Ultimately, it is the players – especially the higher-profile ones – who could have the biggest impact by taking matters into their own hands. How powerful would it be if the England squad issued a statement saying they were all leaving until new regulations – verification of accounts, ending anonymity, introduction of more filters – were introduced? Or if all 20 Premier League clubs did so? Or if Cristiano Ronaldo, with his 500 million followers across social media platforms, disabled his account? Or if leagues established a fighting fund to take legal action aggressively against abusers?
It would not cure football of racism – the bigger, systemic problem remains underrepresentation at the highest levels, from coaching, to management and in the boardroom – but it would create a seismic moment. Yes, there would be commercial pain for those involved and sponsors would complain but, equally, would they want to be seen as blocking social justice and equality?
The fact is, football has more power than it realises. The sport does not have to chase the thing that poisons it – it does not, to use Allen’s phrase, need the eggs.