2181: Coming to a Head

I generally try and steer clear of Internet drama as much as possible, but sometimes it’s impossible not to see what’s been going on when it’s all over a website you use regularly.

Most recently, Twitter has seen some interesting happenings that make it feel like the ongoing culture war between “loudmouthed, self-professed progressives (who aren’t actually all that progressive at all)” and “people who just want to be left the fuck alone to talk to their friends about things they enjoy without being shamed for it” has been coming to a head. And it’s been kind of fascinating to watch, particularly as the most recent happenings make one wonder what role — if any — sites that provide a means of communication, such as Twitter, have in these sort of sociopolitical debates.

The most recent drama surrounds one Milo “Nero” Yiannopoulous, a writer for the conservative/right-wing news site Breitbart. Nero is, to put it mildly, something of a controversial, divisive figure: he’s brash, opinionated, flamboyantly homosexual and vehemently against the rise of “third wave” feminism — that particular ideological offshoot that we’ve seen in the last few years that seemingly concerns itself more with scoring “victim points” than actually promoting any sort of societal change for the better. At the same time, he’s also someone who stands up for what he believes in, protective of people and groups he cares for and willing to go against the grain when he believes that the “grain” is going in the wrong direction.

I find him quite amusing to read at times. I don’t follow him on Twitter, but in my occasional (non-participatory) explorations of what GamerGate subreddit KotakuInAction is up to, I tend to keep abreast of what he’s been up to, and occasionally feel inclined to read some of the things he’s posted on Breitbart. I don’t agree with everything — many things, if I’m honest — that he says, but I do agree with some others. I find his writing entertaining to read, though, and challenging to my preconceived notions about particular issues. His writing makes me think, in other words, and contemplate how I feel about something, whether or not it’s the same as what he thinks about the thing in question — and that’s something that journalists should aspire to, in my opinion, wherever they are positioned on the overall political spectrum.

Anyway. The issue is with Nero’s behaviour on Twitter, and with his subsequent treatment. He frequently comes under fire for “harassing” people himself, and for “inciting harassment” by drawing attention to things that people have said by using Twitter’s built-in “quote and comment” functionality that they added to Retweets a while back. So strong is the backlash against him that a couple of days ago, his “verified” checkmark was removed from his Twitter account, seemingly as a punishment for the way he had behaved.

Thing is, the “verified” checkmark is not supposed to be a mark of good behaviour or anything; all it’s supposed to be is an indicator that yes, this particular Twitter account is indeed the person or company that it claims to be. And Nero is Nero, no doubt about that. Taking it away for the way he has behaved on Twitter — whether or not you feel that was justified — is, frankly, insane, because it doesn’t stop him being the person he is.

Naturally, as these things tend to go, the Internet reacted immediately, with a wide variety of Twitter accounts immediately rebranding themselves as “Milo Yiannopoulous” and adopting his avatar as their profile picture, making the timeline an occasionally extremely confusing place to navigate. Alongside this, the hashtag #JeSuisMilo — a reference to the #JeSuisCharlie hashtag movement from around the time the offices of French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo were attacked in Paris last year — was launched in an attempt to show solidarity with Nero and disapproval for Twitter’s peculiar (and, as of the time of writing, unexplained) actions.

Various people, including writer and former Conservative MP Louise Mensch, did some digging and discovered the Twitter account of Michael Margolis, aka @yipe, the “engineering manager” at Twitter itself. Examining Margolis’ retweets, likes and replies to people made it look to some like there were some conflicts of interest going on, with many people alleging that Margolis was inappropriately using his position at Twitter to do favours for “progressive” types — such as reporting Nero through means other than the usual channels.

All this is hearsay and conjecture, so far as I can make out, but it raises some interesting questions, for sure. Twitter is intended to be an open, free communication platform for everyone to use. It’s not supposed to be moderated or policed — with the sheer number of users and messages that are exchanged every day, it’s simply impossible to do so. Instead, Twitter operates on the (arguably flawed) assumption that, much like society, people will naturally peel off into their own groups and interact with one another, with any cross-cultural clashes able to be resolved through use of the mute and block functions — or, in extreme cases, through Twitter’s formal reporting processes.

I have some experience with Twitter’s formal reporting procedures. Some of you may recall a couple of years back I suffered a campaign of targeted harassment from a notorious group of Internet trolls known as the GNAA. At the time, this group were targeting people who were fans of the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic TV show, and since I’d recently discovered this, I had the word “Brony” (the term for an adult-age fan of the show) in my Twitter profile bio. This, it seems, was an invitation for the group in question to start accusing me of being a paedophile, even going so far as to look up the WHOIS information of websites I’d linked to from my Twitter profile or this site, then phoning up the owners of said websites (which, in this case, were the owner of Games are Evil, a site I was running at the time, and my brother) and repeating said vile accusations.

It was an extremely unpleasant, scary experience, not so much because of the torrent of abusive tweets coming my way — those were easy enough to ignore and block using Twitter’s basic tools — but because it was spilling over into the real world like this. Consequently, rather than simply shrugging the situation off, I reported it to Twitter and to my local police station. The latter were unable to do much about it — I suspected as much, but I thought it was worth doing anyway — and the former were simply useless, claiming that they were unable to intervene in this situation because it amounted to a “disagreement” rather than “harassment” by their definition.

In other words, under Twitter’s definitions, you have to be receiving some pretty damn vile harassment before their formal reporting procedures will actually do anything — or, at least, this was the case back in 2013, anyway. For everything else, you have to just deal with it, or leave the site altogether — which I did for a while, but came back after I felt worse about being alone and isolated than I did about being targeted by trolls.

In a way, I understand the way Twitter reacted the way they did to my situation. I wasn’t directly in danger or anything, and in retrospect the behaviour of the trolls was little more than the sort of casual abuse-hurling you’d get in the schoolyard. This isn’t defending it by any means, of course — I had certainly done nothing to deserve such treatment, and I was genuinely very afraid while it was all going on — but in the grand scheme of things, it perhaps was barely a blip on the radar of Bad Shit happening in the world. By acting upon it, Twitter would be setting a public precedent, and this would then have to be followed up on in future to ensure that their policies were being enforced in an even-handed and fair manner — and I got the distinct impression that Twitter support felt that the whole thing was rather more trouble than it was worth.

This little digression is an explanation of the fact that Twitter is generally very hesitant to intervene in situations where people “disagree” with one another by their definition — and their definition of “disagreeing”, at least as it stood in 2013, was rather, shall we say, lenient. So for a Twitter employee to put across the impression of giving preferential treatment towards particular individuals is not a particular fair and even-handed way to approach the situation. Moreover, Nero’s behaviour in the instances where he was accused of “inciting harassment” wasn’t anything out of the ordinary — he was simply using Twitter’s own tools (in this case, the “Quote Tweet” function) to highlight some things he wanted to discuss or bring to the attention of his audience.

Several interesting questions are raised as a result of this debacle, however. The first is whether or not popular Twitter users such as Nero should be held responsible or accountable for the actions of their followers when they do something to make a conversation or comment public. Twitter does have tools to minimise contact with people you haven’t specifically authorised to talk to you — most notably the ability to make your account private, locking it down to everyone except those who follow you — but at its core it’s designed to be a means of public discourse: the world’s biggest cocktail party, where anyone and everyone is free to wander around, listen in on what everyone is saying and contribute their own thoughts and feelings to a conversation, regardless of whether or not they know the existing participants.

In this instance, Nero was simply using Twitter as intended, so is it his fault if some followers took it upon themselves to be unpleasant little scrotes towards the person he quotes (whom, it has to be said, appears to be a fairly unpleasant little scrote herself — not that this justifies any sort of abuse)? I certainly don’t have an easy answer to that.

The second question raised by all this — particularly Margolis’ alleged involvement, which is yet to be conclusively proven — is whether or not social media companies as a whole or their employees have any sort of obligation to make decisions about users based on political or ideological viewpoints. The argument in this instance is whether or not the removal of Nero’s verified status — his “punishment” — is justified on the grounds that he disagrees (there’s that word again) with the views of third-wave feminism. Or, to take it as a broader picture, whether or not any user should be punished in any way for expressing an opinion that differs from the accepted “norm”, or which some claim to find “offensive”, or which is regarded as “unacceptable” in some way.

You get into dangerous territory with that last section. Twitter is a private company, however, so it is, of course, free to police its platform however it pleases, and if it wants to become some sort of “safe space” where third-wave feminists and their white knight “allies” can happily skip through fields of flowers (not white ones, though, because white people ruin fucking everything, apparently) then that is the company’s decision entirely. Since it has always sold itself as a means of free expression and communication for people all over the world, however, there’s an argument that we are taking a few tentative steps into a somewhat Orwellian area — though it is also worth noting that should Twitter actually decide to go down this route wholeheartedly, the market will be flung wide open for a new, alternative means of communication and expression for people who are no longer welcome under the New Tweet Order.

Personally speaking, I would rather Twitter remain completely apolitical, and continue to act as a means of free communication for groups all over the world covering a wide variety of viewpoints and ideologies, many of which would clash with one another if they came into direct contact. It’s been a valuable tool in times of crisis, such as during the massacres in Paris, the assaults in Cologne over the New Year period, and during the riots in Egypt a while back. More than that, though, it’s brought people together who may never otherwise have had the chance to talk to one another. It’s allowed friendships and even relationships to blossom, and it’s allowed differing viewpoints the chance to interact and attempt to understand one another. It’s been inestimably valuable from that perspective, and for it to start pushing one particular political viewpoint or ideology as somehow “superior” or “correct” would go against this openness that has been its most key feature ever since day one.

More than that, though, regardless of whether or not you think Nero is a twat or a genius, removing his verified status as a “punishment” is just plain stupid. What kind of message, exactly, is that supposed to send? “You said the wrong thing, so you are no longer you?” What utter nonsense.

Perhaps this is why I don’t run a huge, successful social media enterprise. Or perhaps the rest of the world really has gone completely and utterly mental.