How many tweets does it take to ruin a life? Apparently, just one.
Last week, The New York Times published an article about the damaging effects of public shaming on social media. The column, written by author and journalist Jon Ronson, followed up with Justine Sacco — whose infamous tweet got her fired, destroyed her reputation and inspired death and rape threats.
Sacco, who at the time was the senior director for corporate communications for media and Internet company InterActiveCorp, posted the tweet minutes before her flight to South Africa: “Going to Africa. Hope I don’t get AIDS. Just kidding. I’m white!”
After the tweet was promptly picked up by Gawker, social media exploded with hate and disgust for Sacco. Twitter users around the world used the hashtag #HasJustineLandedYet, gleefully anticipating the moment when Sacco would exit her flight and realize that she had been fired, humiliated and attacked by millions of strangers.
Welcome to the age of public shaming on the Internet.
For centuries, people have used shaming and humiliation tactics to punish others for culturally unacceptable behaviors. Though many people today would view these practices as medieval and cruel, social media has brought back public shaming in full force. In fact, it is easier than ever before to watch and participate in the shaming of another person — all you have to do is type, click and enjoy the show.
Shaming someone on social media may seem like the fastest way to win justice, but it isn’t very different from grabbing a pitchfork and joining an angry mob. Someone says something stupid, and suddenly everyone wishes that person the worst possible fate. As the victim’s career and reputation is destroyed, the mob gives itself a righteous pat on the back.
To be clear, there’s no question that Sacco made a mistake. As a public relations student, I was especially appalled at Sacco’s tweet. Even after I learned that she was only trying to poke fun at her own privilege, I thought it was incredibly careless for a PR executive to joke about AIDS and race. But instead of using the situation to inspire meaningful dialogue, social media users focused on personally attacking, threatening and demonizing Sacco.
It is astonishingly easy to hurl vicious insults at a stranger on the Internet. In 2012, Lindsey Stone posted a photo of herself on Facebook seemingly mocking a sign at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arlington National Cemetery. According to The New York Times, the photo was meant to be a joke about disobeying signs.
As a result, more than 30,000 people joined a Facebook group dedicated to getting her fired. She was. Stone, who worked at a nonprofit that helped adults with disabilities, was called a “self-professed douchebag” and a “waste of oxygen.”
The photo was undoubtedly tasteless, insensitive and downright stupid. It was insulting to fallen soldiers and their families, and she should have expected some backlash. But a tasteless and insensitive action does not justify thousands of people targeting one person and rooting for her failure.
In response to Ronson’s article, many publications spoke out about the issue of public shaming online. Jezebel (owned by Gawker Media) published an article bashing The New York Times for its sympathetic approach to people who are humiliated on social media.
The author argued that people who make stupid mistakes online deserve everything they get because “the professional and emotional responses may be the only damn thing that finally give these people the one thing they don’t have: empathy.”
It’s a pretty powerful opinion, until you realize how hypocritical it is. If public shaming on social media was truly about teaching people empathy, then maybe scorning and humiliating strangers for their mistakes isn’t the best way to show it.
Moriah Camenker is a UF public relations senior. Her column appears on Tuesdays.
[A version of this story ran on page 7 on 2/17/2015 under the headline “Online shaming is shameful itself, only ruins strangers’ lives"]
