Non-starters

Some initiatives just never get off the ground. I wonder why not.

            It seemed like a good idea. The problem was cyberharassment: people receiving abusive messages and images online, by email, text messages and other means. For some people, the abuse is constant and extreme. Prime targets are women and minorities, especially those in the public eye. What can be done about it?

            I knew about cyberharassment and had studied research about it. I learned that the usual response from authorities is to dismiss it as not important or to say to get off the Internet, which is ridiculous. Formal complaints to officials, such as tech companies, almost never fix the problem.

            I thought of something. How about trying to find out what sorts of responses to abuse are most likely to be effective? Ignoring it? Tracking down perpetrators and exposing them? Responding politely? Counter-abuse? Humour?

            It wouldn’t be all that hard. Just set up some fake accounts to attract abuse, for example accounts expressing strong feminist views, and try out different responses. To do this sort of research, I wanted some collaborators to provide technical skills, insight and support. It would probably not be approved by a university ethics committee, so it would be a non-university project.

            I tried for years to interest others. I contacted a leading researcher who said there was nothing like this at any Australian campus. I talked with several individuals who were sympathetic, but that was all. I organised a meeting with several of those who expressed interest, but none followed up. Eventually I gave up, deciding the time was not right.

What’s it all about?

This project was a non-starter. It’s just one example of an interest or initiative into which I put some energy, but which didn’t get very far. That’s okay. Most initiatives, like most small businesses, fail, and usually quickly.

            Still, if most initiatives fail, is there something to be learned from the experiences? Nearly all attention is on successes. How many times have I read inspiring stories about the entrepreneurs who, from modest beginnings, built Microsoft, Google and Facebook? Whatever the number, it’s far more than I’ve read about failed tech efforts, or even small successes.

            What counts as a non-starter? Does it include an idea that never led to action? Does it include a viable activity that fizzled out? There’s no easy answer. My purpose in reflecting on these sorts of non-successes is to learn what caused them to fall short of what they might have been. So for the moment I’ll include a selection of efforts that occupied me for a considerable amount of time, that seemed worthwhile but didn’t amount to much. For each initiative, I’ve written longer descriptions but here I’ll just give one-paragraph summaries.

            A whistleblowers group In the 1990s, Whistleblowers Australia had branches in several states, but none in Western Australia. I and others tried for years to find someone in WA to convene regular meetings and create a branch, but were never successful. Assessment: the WA branch was a non-starter because there was no one who would be an organiser.

            A network In the early 1990s in the small group Schweik Action Wollongong, we planned to launch a “network against repression,” with contacts around the world, for providing immediate support for opponents of military coups. We developed a leaflet and contacted quite a few people. There was some support, but not enough for us to proceed.

            A local group A colleague and I set up a women-in-science group that worked well for a year. Then my colleague left the city and I had to leave the group after others decided it should be women-only. Without its two organisers, the group collapsed.

            A writing group In 2008, I initiated a writing group for my colleagues, including PhD students, and we met weekly, and still do. A few years later, I started a similar group with several nonviolence researchers. Because we were in different countries, and it was before Zoom, we didn’t have meetings. I just sent a weekly email reminder about daily writing. This group never became active, so I discontinued it and tried a different approach, which worked better.

            A simulation In the early 2000s, I designed a “communication simulation,” a type of drill for communicating in a crisis, such as a government crackdown on dissent. We ran one simulation, but that was all. I lost enthusiasm and no one else offered much encouragement to continue.

            A dissent network In 1993, a friend and I contacted many individuals, inviting them to become contacts on a list called Dissent Network Australia. Each person provided their name, contact information, interests and things they were willing to do to help dissidents. The idea was that anyone needing advice or support could contact someone on the list. We got the list up and running, but it wasn’t used very often, and eventually we closed it down.

            A dissent initiative In 2005, I was alarmed about Australian government laws that targeted dissent, put many documents on my website about resistance and notified everyone I could think of. Not much came of it. In 2021, I made a more concerted effort to find others who would collaborate in producing material for citizens to understand and oppose government threats to dissent. There was some interest but not, it seemed to me, in trying to build a grassroots movement.

Assessment

It isn’t easy to promote a new idea, set up a group or launch a campaign. We read about successes far more often than failures, and hear about prominent failures more than low-key ones. My guess is that there are vastly more efforts that fizzle early: ideas that were never pursued, groups that barely got started or didn’t last, and campaigns that never took off. Reflecting on my own experiences with non-starters, one feature stands out: the need to persuade others to be involved. If no one else cares much, a good idea will remain just an idea, and a group or network will just be potential, not actual.

            Does this mean it’s no use trying to innovate and that it’s better to stick with existing ideas, groups and campaigns? If it turns out to be difficult to find others who are interested, might it be better to try something else?

            I know some individuals who never stop trying, raising the same issue for years, even decades, despite little interest from others. Should they be seen as misguided cranks or as tireless campaigners? It’s hard to know, because we so often judge efforts by their outcomes, not by their inherent value, assuming that can be assessed independently of outcomes.

Further reflections

Is it worth revisiting non-starters, to learn from initiatives that fizzled? One option is to see, years later, whether the issue turned out to have wider significance. Women-in-science groups across Australia continued for years but eventually closed down, so perhaps it didn’t matter whether one in Wollongong flourished. But this may be a cynical way to make an assessment, because initiatives can be worthwhile for the participants at the time, whatever their long-term prospects.

            Another angle is to estimate the odds that an initiative might be successful. By joining an existing group or area of activity, the odds are better that it’s worthwhile but, on the other hand, one’s own added contribution is likely to be smaller. In the 1980s, joining the mass movement against nuclear weapons was of this sort. In contrast, supporting an original or unorthodox peace initiative can be likened to betting on a long shot in a race, with a tiny chance of becoming a big winner. There’s no easy way to compare these options.

            A crucial part of the picture is reinforcement. Are you the sort of person who feels safer in a crowd, who looks to others to decide what’s worth doing? If so, you’re like most people, and you can play a valuable role in supporting causes whose time has come. Or are you the sort of person with the capacity to pursue a lonely path for years, with limited reinforcement? You might have the makings of a crank — or a prophet. But even prophets need followers at some stage. And even prophets may be able to learn from non-starters.

Brian Martin, bmartin@uow.edu.au

Thanks to Sharon Callaghan, Cynthia Kardell, Isla MacGregor and Yasmin Rittau for valuable comments and for sharing some of the journeys.

When they attack you online

Online attacks on your reputation can be distressing and difficult to deal with. Sometimes there are no good options, just options that are less bad.

            What’s the problem? On your favourite Facebook page, something you wrote is taken out of context to convey the opposite of what you meant. Then there are claims that you took a bribe. There’s a website with compromising photos, featuring you! Your boss and co-workers receive racist messages — from your email address. And there are news stories linking you with hate groups.

            Imagine that your activist group becomes the subject of repeated nasty, damaging messages online, where they are seen by audiences you care about. There are blatant falsehoods, repeated over and over, and subtle misrepresentations that seem plausible enough to believe. Your group’s Wikipedia page is hostilely edited to make all of you seem self-interested and misguided. There are deepfake videos that falsely show your leading members renouncing their views and engaging in salacious activities.

            It’s bad, but it’s not new. Even before the Internet, individuals and groups were attacked in the mass media and in campaigns organised by opponents. But quite a few things about online attacks are different, many of them worse.

            Anonymity It’s now easier for attackers to hide their identity. This means you can’t easily assign responsibility or begin a dialogue.

            Less restraint When you can’t see the other person, and they can’t see you, it’s easier to be nasty. Researchers call this the online disinhibition effect. In contrast, when you’re face to face with someone, personal and social expectations encourage politeness: people are more reluctant to be rude.

            Less filtering Editors of newspapers screen submissions to weed out inappropriate material. This does not eliminate problems but at least reduces them. In contrast, many online platforms are not moderated, or not very well: there is less filtering. This makes it far easier for attackers to post their material.

            Permanence After someone posts a hostile comment, it can stay there indefinitely, and others can post it elsewhere. It’s not so easy to have the comment removed. In contrast, spoken comments and ones in print only are less likely to have lasting impacts.

            New technology Tools using artificial intelligence are readily available that enable users to alter photos and create videos in which, for example, your face realistically replaces someone else’s. You might be shown chatting with Vladimir Putin or kicking a puppy.

Reputations under attack

This is the sixth in a series of posts about dealing with unfair attacks on reputation. Since the 1970s, I’ve advised hundreds of people who contacted me about being defamed. Each case is different and the best option for one person may not work for someone else, so I will suggest several options for consideration. Other posts deal with false statements, derogatory labelling, guilt by association and malicious gossip. See also “Being defamed Q&A“.

Options

Imagine you’re in a group dedicated to public welfare. Opponents mount a campaign to discredit your most prominent figure, Alex, and your group, with false claims and nasty comments on Facebook pages, doctored pictures on Instagram, and a webpage with a “Hall of shame” listing Alex’s personal details and contact information, inviting harassment. Your website is hacked and your Wikipedia page is edited to put your group in an unfavourable light.

            It sounds horrible, and it is. Before doing anything, it’s worth thinking through options, examining each type of attack and choosing the most effective option.

Ignore

For some attacks, it’s easier and safer to do nothing. If nasty comments are on an obscure Facebook page, responding to them might only draw more attention to them. Fake videos may be unbelievable. If your reputation is sufficiently strong, you may not need to worry. Remember that you will probably think negative comments and images are more significant than they seem to others.

Reply

In some cases, you can reply in the same forum, or another one. Prepare a careful comment and post it in the same place, or another one, or send it to your supporters. What sort of comment? It might be better to focus attention on your positives and not spend too much time countering hostile comments. Often, readers don’t have the time or interest to get to the bottom of disputes: “they said – we said.” Instead, they will be influenced by the style of the comments. If you come across as calm, sensible, coherent and generous, this can be more effective than an angry rebuttal.

Counterattack

You’re aware that your attackers are hypocrites, are being funded by a notorious source, and have a long record of discreditable behaviour. Instead of defending against false claims, you can try to discredit the attackers, exposing their agendas and methods.

            Sometimes this can work wonders. It’s also risky, because it might lead to more abusive exchanges.

Complain

It’s the obvious option: make a complaint to someone in authority. It might be a tech company like Facebook, an Internet service provider or a government agency. You can ask them to take down offending posts, photos and videos, cut off service to offenders or in some other way stop the abuse.

            The trouble is getting a response. The history of tech company responses to obvious violations of rules, such as sending death threats, is that usually nothing much is done. The company may consider the comments about you and your group “acceptable.”

            There’s another problem. Even if you get some action from authorities, the attackers might just pop up somewhere else, using different names. In fact, after they learn what you’ve done to try to stop them, they might become more careful — and more persistent. Furthermore, they might start claiming you’re a censor.

Take legal action

You can sue for defamation. Good luck, because you’ll need it. Sometimes you can’t even identify the attackers. Even if you can, legal processes are slow and expensive, and most cases are settled out of court. If, by unlikely chance, you have some success in court, attackers can continue their assault, being extra careful to remain anonymous.

            Suing has another disadvantage. The attackers can publicise your legal action, giving even more attention to their claims. You might become a victim of the Streisand effect, in which an attempt to silence someone online leads to greater publicity about their claims.

Reputation management

Rather than trying to get rid of damaging material online, you can try to overwhelm it with positive material. You can set up websites and Facebook groups and encourage supporters to make comments on them and links to them. People searching the web seldom look beyond the first few links, so if you can push adverse material to the second page, few will see it. In general, having positive material adds to your reputation, often far more than trying to directly counter negative material.

            Reputation management techniques only work for some types of attack, mainly hostile material online. It doesn’t address damaging emails.

            You can pay reputation management services to do this sort of work for you, but it can be quite expensive. There’s plenty of information available for companies. You can also do it yourself.

Protect

If online attacks put you in personal danger, you need to protect yourself and other group members. If you are doxxed, the online threats might lead to physical ones. Consider what you need to do to ensure your safety. In extreme cases, this might mean moving away from home, closing all your social media accounts, changing your phone number, even adopting another name.

            If you are outspoken online, have a public profile, you may receive hostile messages, especially if you are a woman or member of a minority group. The more prominent you become, the more likely you are to receive threats and abusive messages via email, phone and social media platforms. This is serious and you need to find ways to protect yourself. Note that when you receive a threat by a direct message, it may be extremely distressing but it is not an attack on your reputation, because your reputation is what other people think about you.

Set an example

Try to behave in a model fashion: polite, sensible, supportive, generous, courageous. Many people who know you will see the attacks as lies and misrepresentations. Some of them might be able to counter some of the attacks.

Organise

Find others who have been attacked, and join with them to resist. This might mean collecting documentation to highlight the problem, sharing insights about what works and what doesn’t, providing mutual support to deal with trauma, and working together for common causes. You and your group shouldn’t try to do it all on your own.

            Tech companies make more money the longer users stay on their platforms, and one way of keeping users engrossed is by making them angry. This isn’t a conscious plan but just results from algorithms carefully designed to maximise screen time and hence profits. Changing the algorithms means changing the entire business model, for example by making the companies non-profit public entities. That’s not going to happen easily or quickly!

Conclusion

Online attacks are especially difficult to handle. Sometimes there’s little you can do. Complaint procedures are weak and ineffective, and counterattacking might make things worse. There’s no easy solution, so think about your values. At the very least, you can behave according to the highest principles. Others can attack your reputation, but you can still behave ethically and altruistically.

Brian Martin
bmartin@uow.edu.au

Thanks to Clark Chilson, Anneleis Humphries, Julia LeMonde and Julia Nennstiel for helpful comments.