"In the late 1980s, Internet users adopted the word 'troll' to denote someone who intentionally disrupts online communities. Early trolling was relatively innocuous, taking place inside of small, single-topic Usenet groups. The trolls employed what M.I.T. professor Judith Donath calls a 'pseudo-naïve' tactic, asking stupid questions and seeing who would rise to the bait. The game was to find out who would see through this stereotypical newbie behavior, and who would fall for it. As one guide to trolldom puts it, 'If you don’t fall for the joke, you get to be in on it.'
Today the Internet is much more than esoteric discussion forums. It is a mass medium for defining who we are to ourselves and to others. Teenagers groom their MySpace profiles as intensely as their hair; escapists clock 50-hour weeks in virtual worlds, accumulating gold for their online avatars. Anyone seeking work or love can expect to be Googled. As our emotional investment in the Internet has grown, the stakes for trolling — for provoking strangers online — have risen. Trolling has evolved from ironic solo skit to vicious group hunt."
The above two paragraphs are taken from a disturbing yet fascinating new article from The New York Times Magazine about the secret lives of Internet trolls. The writer, Mattathias Schwartz, delves into the hidden motivations, aspirations and machinations of this increasingly malevolent and anarchic subculture.
Anyone who has ever frequented a message board or other online forum has probably come across at least one troll. I have witnessed troll behavior ranging from mildly annoying to downright infuriating (not to mention patently pathetic). However, the kinds of things described in the aforementioned article take trolling to "a-hole" new level.
Why do trolls spend so much time and energy messing with people they've never even met? As one who has indulged in some fairly mild trolling over the years (one memorable instance of which resulted in a certain much-despised poster being banned from a site - mission accomplished!), my own motivation to heckle someone is always driven by what I perceive as malicious, inflammatory or otherwise unacceptable online behavior on the part of my intended victim.
Schwartz, on the other hand, offers this equally valid if somewhat dire explanation:
"...while technology reduces the social barriers that keep us from bedeviling strangers, it does not explain the initial trolling impulse. This seems to spring from something ugly — a destructive human urge that many feel but few act upon, the ambient misanthropy that’s a frequent ingredient of art, politics and, most of all, jokes. There’s a lot of hate out there, and a lot to hate as well."
BTW: here's an insightful observation by Schwartz that I wish a certain newspaper publisher would keep in mind when policing his own blogs:
"All vigorous debates shade into trolling at the perimeter; it is next to impossible to excise the trolling without snuffing out the debate."
In the end, Schwartz's conclusions only serve to reinforce what I have long held to be true - Don't feed the trolls! He writes:
"The willingness of trolling 'victims' to be hurt by words ... makes them complicit, and trolling will end as soon as we all get over it. ...trolling will stop only when its audience stops taking trolls seriously."
Read the complete article by Mr. Schwartz here.
