By
Ashley Feinberg
Trolls
are shitting all over our internet. You can hardly search for something
as innocuous as "dog" on Google without coming across inflammatory
attacks on every possible dog-related opinion under the sun. All
horrible things have to crawl before they can walk/crush spirits,
though. Even trolls.
And while the term "troll" has become wildly muddied, it did have to come from somewhere. We decided to try and find out just where that dark, acerbic origin story began.
In the Beginning
There were bulletin board systems. And Usenet. And newsgroups. And
people just starting to realize the massive potential trembling beneath
their fingertips. Anything was possible! Which, as it turns out, is not
always a good thing.
Flame Wars
Whether or not you're familiar with the term, you do know what
flaming is. You've seen it under horrible political opinions on
Facebook. You've seen it choking your Twitter stream. And you've seen it
in every other comment in the vast wasteland that is YouTube. Put
simply, a flame is a vicious, personal attack on someone made simply
because you disagree with them.
Of course, humans have always had this potential for the
irrationally vindictive, but the advent of the internet finally allowed
it to thrive. Because as soon as you stuck someone behind a computer, a
dangerously insular shield of anonymity came down and, for those
inclined, happily took over. In discussing the sort of negotiation
tactics that precede a flame war, Norman Johnson, an Associate Professor at Bauer College at the University of Houston explains:
The literature suggests that, compared to face-to-face, the increased
incidence of flaming when using computer-mediated communication is due
to reductions in the transfer of social cues, which decrease
individuals' concern for social evaluation and fear of social sanctions
or reprisals. When social identity and ingroup status are salient,
computer mediation can decrease flaming because individuals focus their
attention on the social context (and associated norms) rather than
themselves.
The introduction of anonymity not only made users feel free from the
repercussions that might otherwise give them pause, but it also
dehumanized potential targets. In other words, the internet gave all our
worst impulses just what they needed to thrive.
Because if someone disagreed with you in the real, live social realm,
you might feel frustrated, sure, but you'll also see that person's as
another human with human emotions—not just a jumble of inflammatory
words for you to destroy. You'll take time to reflect, because you'll
realize there are consequences to your actions. Whereas on the internet,
a clean slate is a mere username change away.
Some of the earliest flame wars went down on Usenet, which unbeknownst
to these earlier warriors, was building a model for all the trolls to
eventually come in its wake. According to Gaffin:
Periodically, an exchange of flames erupts into a flame war that
begin to take up all the space in a given newsgroup (and sometimes
several; flamers like cross-posting to let the world know how they
feel). These can go on for weeks (sometimes they go on for years, in
which case they become "holy wars,'' usually on such topics as the
relative merits of Macintoshes and IBMs). Often, just when they're dying
down, somebody new to the flame war reads all the messages, gets upset
and issues an urgent plea that the flame war be taken to e-mail so
everybody else can get back to whatever the newsgroup's business is.
So presumably, these troll/flame wars all started earnestly. But
watching two groups of people attempt to lambast each other in
increasingly epic proportions is—as we all know and hate to admit—wildly
entertaining. And once the war of words would simmer down, it's not at
all surprising that someone might start (forcefully,
sensationalistically) poking and prodding the more tender of egos. All
in hopes of revisiting that awful sort of thrill that comes in watching
another human push the very boundaries of sanity, by freaking the fuck
out.
Net.Weenies
The earliest documented form of internet troll was something called a net.weenie, who did what s/he does "
just for the hell of it."
In early internet usenet forums, they were the people being assholes
simply for the sheer joy of being an asshole. According to the Guide:
These are the kind of people who enjoy Insulting others, the kind of people who post nasty messages in a sewing newsgroup.
Even the Electronic Frontier Foundation—formed in 1990—was aware of (and acknowledged)
net.weenies prevalence among the more public internet groups. In the
group's early internet guide to mailing lists, one of the main benefits
of such a system was that "a mailing list can offer a degree of freedom to speak one's mind (or not worry about net.weenies)
that is not necessarily possible on Usenet." This was, of course,
before the sorts of emails in which an undead child's wrath and/or
Nigerian prince's livelihood rested on the click of our mouse.
And net.weenies sound obnoxious, sure, but the term still didn't
carry the sort of malevolence we now associate with modern trolling. In
fact, quite the contrary—some of their games were absolutely incredible.
Warlording
Warlording
was a very specific, beautiful type of early trolling performed by
these net.weenies, particularly in the alt.fan.warlord newsgroup in
Usenet (a sort of subreddit of early internet days). Considering the
limitations of early 90s bandwidth and forums' general readability
issues, Usenet etiquette—netiquette, if you will—asked users to keep
their signatures under four lines. This was dubbed the McQuary limit and
was
not a hard and fast rule. At least in the way that there weren't actually any real character limits.
This rule was partially necessary due to new users' predilections for
employing what was called BUAGs (Big Ugly ASCII Graphics) and BUAFs (Big
Ugly ASCII Fonts). So to both mock this habit and be the biggest
assholes they could be (always reach for the stars, kids), net.weenies
tore this rule apart in a game called warlording.
The term came from the user
Death Star, War Lord of the West, "
who
featured in his sig[nature] a particularly large and obnoxious ASCII
graphic resembling the sword of Conan the Barbarian in the 1981 John
Milius movie." Which, presumably, looked something like this:
The newgroup
alt.fan.warlord was created as a sort of sarcastic tribute to the offending sigs, and the jokes spiraled from there. One particularly
notable case of warlording was that of
James Parry's signature (better know by the username Kibo) below. Bear in mind, this is all one, single sig.
Although
every part of this signature is brilliant and deserving of our
appreciation and awe, I do have a few favorite sections. Namely, this
absurd and not at all remotely helpful Twin Peaks chart:
And then this.
Because if anything has ever been worthy of being called art, it is the beautiful, intricate, wholly insincere mess.
The Birth of the Troll
In the late 80s and early 90s there certainly did exist this notion of
an internet user who merely enjoyed stirring up trouble—but then that
person has for as long as humans themselves have existed. As Whitney
Phillips, a media studies scholar and communication lecturer at Humboldt
State University (who has
a book on trolls forthcoming with MIT press) explained to us over email:
[Organized, willful trolling did exist before 4chan and Anonymous came
around], though at the time it wouldn't (necessarily) have been called
that. This was a point of fascination to many of the trolls I
interviewed; while they engaged in similar behaviors in the pre-4chan
years, they didn't refer to their behaviors as trolling and in fact
couldn't remember what they called it, if they called it anything.
They've since some to use the term retroactively, but at the time the
subcultural definition of the term hadn't yet taken hold, and so they
didn't think of themselves as trolls.
Purportedly, the actual use of the term "troll" dates back to the 80s, but
according to the Oxford English Dictionary,
the first instance of the term "troll" being used in an online capacity
happened on December 14th, 1992 in the usenet group alt.folklore.urban,
when someone wrote "Maybe after I post it, we could go trolling some
more and see what happens."
Usenet Royalty
Interestingly enough, it's around the time that the actual term
"trolling" started gaining steam in the mid 90s that the act itself
began to evolve from causing annoyance as a result of your beliefs to
simply believing in causing annoyance. And, of course, that's just a
single flavor of trolling—almost as soon as the term came into use, it
started morphing into a blanket term of unwieldy proportions.
For instance, at least in retrospect, Brice Wellington was one of the more notorious troll incarnations.
He spent much of his time
"in alt.atheism, talk.origins, alt.christnet, and other newsgroups that
he [would] troll and spam on a daily basis." Now, whether his brand of
trolling was sincere or satiric becomes a little more difficult to suss
out. Usenet users at the time seemed certain that Brice was the "real
deal," so to speak, but in looking at some of his more insane rantings,
it's hard to see him as seeking anything more than what would soon be
termed "the lulz."
While Brice may have started blurring the line between being infuriating by nature and being infuriating by sheer force of well, alt.tasteless stepped firmly into the latter territory.
In a 1994 article with Wired,
Usenet user Trashcan Man gave one of the first real insights into the
prototypical troll mindset by describing alt.tasteless' flamewar with
the unsuspecting rec.pets.cats, a sort of haven for cat fanciers. In
other words, prime bait.
Because for all intents and purposes, alt.tasteless was simply an early version of 4chan's now-notorious /b/. As Wired explains:
Alt.tasteless
was created in the autumn of 1990 "as a place to keep the sick people
away from rec.humor and other forums," according to Steven Snedker, a
Danish journalist for Denmark's largest computer magazine.
"Alt.tastelessers see this as an important turn in Usenet history, on a
par with the creation of alt.sex. Both alt.tasteless and alt.sex are
fine forums that serve their purpose to keep the other parts of Usenet
clean, and to dig further into the stuff discussed."
Which
is all good and great, but being positively revolting certainly loses
some of its appeal when you take away any potential foil. Which is why
when someone suggested that alt.tasteless descend upon another Usenet
group to incite chaos, the alt.tasteless users were delighted and
ultimately decided on the cat newsgroup as a prime target.
And alt.tasteless' opening line was a doozy:
...
I'm not what you would call a real studly type guy (although I have a
lot of women friends), so when I date it's really important to me.
Anyway, [my cat] Sooti goes into heat something fierce (sometimes it
seems like it's two weeks on, two weeks off). I had a date a while back,
when she was really bad. Yowling and presenting all the time - not the
most auspicious setting for a date. While dinner was cooking, I tried to
stimulate her vagina with a Q-tip because I had heard that one can
induce ovulation that way. My date came into the bathroom while I was
doing this, and needless to say I don't think she bought my explanation.
The date was a very icy experience after that.
What
should I do. I love my cats, so I don't want to get rid of them, but I
can't go on like this any more. It's my love life, or them. Please
help!!!
The
earnest advice from rec.pets.cats was intermixed with decidedly more
tasteless (naturally) advice from alt.tasteless including, but not
limited to,
providing "articles about topics such as vivisecting the cat and having sex with its innards."
Which, of course, brings us to 4chan.
Here Comes 4chan
For
better or worse, in 2003, 4chan entered the public consciousness and
with it brought what Phillips refers to as "a very specific
understanding of the term 'troll,'"
explaining in a Daily Dot article that "
trolling was something that one actively chose to do. More importantly, a troll was something one chose to be."
4chan's
/b/ board in particular, being the spiritual successor to
alt.tasteless, fostered this toxic mentality that if you don't actually
believe in the horrible things you're saying that it magically becomes
justified. As Phillips explained over email:
Granted,
the trolls might not really mean what they say. But who cares, they are
not, and should not be regarded, as the ultimate arbiters of meaning.
In other words, what these "trolls" think about what they do is
irrelevant; even if they say they're "just trolling," their actions can
have serious real-world consequences for the people they target.
So,
say, when 4chan users found an 11-year-old girl's address and phone
number in 2010 and proceeded to call her home making death threats, it
didn't matter that they were "just doing it for the lulz." Both that
classic, deflective refrain and the term troll itself have succeeded in
creating a potentially dangerous emotional distance from the actual
consequences words can have—whether it's trolls self-identifying as such
or a media-assigned label. According to Phillips:
I
don't accept the idea that assholes get to be assholes with impunity, as
if we live exclusively in their world and there's nothing we can do
about it because "boys will be boys."
Rather
than defer blindly to the term "trolling," I like to label behaviors
based on what they do in the world. So, if someone is engaging in
misogynist behavior, even if they believe they're "just trolling"
(whatever dude), that's misogyny. And if that person doesn't like the
word misogynist, if that label makes them cry hot tears and feel bad
about themselves, then how about not behaving like a misogynist.
Because
even though the term may have gained notoriety on 4chan, the
concept—however you may choose to define it—of "trolling" is more
mainstream today than it has ever been.
A Long Way to Go
A War of (Misdirected) Words
Search
"trolls" on Google and you'll be hit with a deluge of articles defining
the term in any number of ways. Whether it's being defined as someone
who believes what they're saying in earnest, just wants to stir the pot,
or is merely hopping on board a rage bandwagon—any rage bandwagon!—the
only common thread is malicious intent. Which, according to Phillips,
presents a major problem:
Calling
behaviors designed to threaten, intimidate, and silence "trolling" (so,
lumping ALL aggressive online behavior under the same umbrella term)
risks minimizing the emotional impact of the most extreme behaviors,
particularly when those behaviors are piled on as viciously and
relentlessly as they have been throughout Gamergate.
Will We Ever Be Troll-Free?
Clearly,
for as long as the internet has been around, trolls have existed in
some form—whether they were called that or not. There will always be
agitators. There will always be people who want upset others. That's not
going to change.
What we can change, though, is how we approach these situations in all their varied forms. Which, according to Phillips, "depends
on whose voices platform administrators, advertisers, and other people
on the business end choose to privilege—the targets of abusive,
intimidating behaviors or those who are doing the intimidating."
It's not an issue of "feeding the trolls" (a problematic phrase in its own right),
but rather whether or not we're going to stop giving a platform to the
trolls, the aggressors, and the antagonizers. Whether it be by not
validating their behavior with concessions or dropping the catch-all
term "troll" in favor of more accurate terminology—be it misogynist, sociopath, or straight-up dick.
So
yes, assholes have and will always be around, as will their unfortunate
victims. It's just a matter of who we let hold the megaphone.
Illustration by Jim Cooke