Social Media, Mayhem, Movement
Part 2: Who is that Big bully behind the screen?

In 2020, my father had a difficult time attending official meetings online. Ready in a clean shirt and a pair of ironed pants with nowhere to go, he would fumble with his laptop and look at me for help. Like the world around him, he tried to adapt to unprecedented changes in expected behaviour. His colleagues and he often struggled with technology- setting the camera at a strange angle, forgetting to mute their microphones. Sometimes, my father felt particularly embarrassed of raising a point for the lack of any visual cues. However, a few weeks ago, I caught him on the sofa, munching into a bowl of roasted peanuts. A baritone from his laptop filled the otherwise barren sound of winter in Assam. He was attending another meeting, still in his formal wear. However, this time his shoulders were relaxed and there was a dexterity in how he operated technology. In a twisted turn of tables, my utility seemed to have diminished in the presence of changing times. And as human beings, we are reluctant to change. We get used to sleeping on the same side of the bed, sipping tea from the same cup at the same hour, being with the same people in the same way, and living life with the same perception (even if it’s driven by dynamism). However, one exception to this rule is our relationship with technology. In every other area of life, we dread change. But change is an implicit assumption in living with technology. It is expected for technology to keep evolving, even if it’s unexpected. This can be in the form of software updates, fixed bugs and glitches, introduction of novel features, expansions and changes in policy. In fact, for companies to remain relevant in a competitive market, they often capitalize on this variation. Social Media, for one, is an excellent example of these incredible leaps. And its relevance in 2020 attests that statement.
The Indian Government banned the China-developed application TikTok (formerly known as Musical.ly) in June, 2020. The application allowed users to edit and upload 3–60 second-long videos. This decision came at a crucial time for both users and developers. The app lost over 120 million users following this, and the decision itself was received with both disappointment and amusement. Over the years, the ‘utility’ of lip synching as a form of content had been ridiculed, and misnomers had made their way into an ‘elite’ group of social media users who claimed to be ‘better off’ without TikTok. Less than 2 months later, in August 2020, Instagram announced their new feature- Instagram reels. It would now allow, in addition to pre-existing features of posting pictures, long and short videos and time-bound ‘stories’, 15–30 second-long videos. This was when the US was debating a ban on TikTok. And therefore, they had conveniently introduced a competitor in the market- which didn’t even have a popular rival in India anymore. This magnified the purpose of the new algorithm. Now, your feed isn’t only limited to individuals that you follow but also content that is ‘relevant’ for you. In short, the kind of videos you usually engage with are the kind of videos you will continue finding. By design or not, Instagram basically synched the community closer to a point where there is now a third category of familiar faces: the blue-tick bigwigs, personal contacts, and ‘content creators.’
I happen to go through a number of reels every day. And as a creature of habit, I also check ‘views and comment sections.’ This is when I first began noticing a trend- the more viral the reel, the more negativity in the comments section. Now, I have carefully chosen to use the word ‘negativity’ and not ‘criticism’ or ‘bullying’. I believe that naturally, as something (or someone) becomes more popular, it attracts more criticism- and sometimes rightfully so. This is true for academia, culture, rituals, movies, art and people. And maybe reels neither introduced nor amplified this trend. But it definitely made it easier for me to notice it; because I was seeing more ‘viral content’, I was also seeing more ‘negativity’. But where do you draw a line between criticism and bullying? Frankly, the answer is a little more complicated than ‘one is warranted and the other one isn’t’ because either comes from a place of impact. The comment you’re leaving is a result of an intellectual or emotional impact on you, regardless of intensity. However, unlike constructive criticism, bullying is characterized by a number of distinct elements.
It’s personal; bullying is almost always a personal and global attack. A judgement is placed on the entire person, not their behaviour- “YOU are a horrible person.” Bullying is repetitive- either by the same person or towards the same person by many. It happens across contexts and over a period of time. It is also fueled by a hierarchy of power- between the bullied and the bully, there is an assumption of moral, intellectual, social or emotional high ground. For instance, a person who leaves a comment on a man wearing ‘feminine’ clothes is speaking from a perceived social advantage. For them, it is not ‘normal’ or socially ‘acceptable’ that a man wears a dress and their power is symbolized by their own reluctance to break norms. But who are these big bullies behind the screen? Even though emotion would have us assume that they’re burly and brutal, they’re actually ordinary and human. Maybe they work 9–5, maybe they are the quiet kid in the corner of the classroom, or maybe they work from/at home.
In recent years, the prevalence of online bullying has increased- some argue that it’s more than that of offline bullying. This development takes away from the oft-portrayed image of a bully- popular, powerful, and towering threateningly over the victim. They are now nameless, and there are less to no personal ties between two people. They are usernames and faceless profiles, shared images and saved pictures. People say and do things in cyberspace that they wouldn’t ordinarily say face-to-face. They loosen up, feel more uninhibited, and express themselves more openly. This is called the ‘disinhibition effect’. John Suler calls it a double-edged sword. Sometimes, individuals show unusual acts of kindness and generosity. And on other occasions, behaviour becomes more complicated- vile, inhuman words are spilled and directed at strangers, and hatred spewed. A number of unique factors play a role in bridging the gap between engaging and bullying in online behaviour.
Anonymity for one, makes it easier for people to feel protected. If you’re leaving a comment on a page from a fake profile, your anonymity is protecting you from accountability. In a way, if the world doesn’t know it was you, perhaps you also don’t feel responsible for your own comments. In addition, sometimes we also create virtual avatars of others online. We are privy to a part of their presence on social media, but it’s possible that we’ve already created a more generalized (mostly inaccurate) image of ‘how they must be like’. Perhaps, this is a blogger whose choice of clothing/make-up you do not agree with, and therefore, you assume a shortcut in making a stereotypical judgement about how they must be in real life. Specifically, with bullying ‘popular’ users on social media, there is an assumption of equality. Online, with anonymity and a-synchronicity (lapse in responding to messages), the effect of popularity is limited. While the individual may have millions of followers, the bully still has more exposure to the celebrity than the other way round- this access to someone who is considered important is unheard of and almost impossible to achieve in real life. According to Jon Ronson, this concept is somewhat related to internet mob mentality. In his book, ‘So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed’ he looks at the way people become victims of the internet mob, get attacked with online abuse or threats for their ‘crimes’. In this form of bullying, a cybermob finds it justified to publicly shame someone because their ‘actions warrant it’.
2020 has been a surreal year- fueled by disease, disaster and death. In June 2020, actor Sushant Singh Rajput was found dead in his apartment. Young, brilliant, and talented, the actor (as stated by the Central Bureau of Investigation as of December 2020) had died by suicide. In the absence of any suicide note or ‘visible’ signs of distress, speculations were pitched since the night of his death. The same week, Rajput’s father filed a case against co-actor and girlfriend Rhea Chakraborty, accusing her of abetment in his alleged suicide. Rajput’s sister claimed that she was using ‘black magic’. News Channels soon picked up on this thread, running headlines such as “Sushant par Rhea ka kaala jaadu” (Rhea’s black magic on Sushant) which soon turned into conspiracy theories around a possible homicide. Prime time news flashed headlines such as “Sushant ko Rhea ne zeher se mara?” (Did Rhea poison Sushant?) for months, running endless debates and discussions on the issue. Interestingly, this was also the time when the Supreme Court had rejected the plea of students to postpone JEE and NEET exams, stating that “life has to go on”. During this time, Chakraborty’s Instagram profile, old interviews, and Facebook posts were flooded with threats, abuse and hate comments. She also happens to the be fourth most Googled celebrity this year, tailing behind Joe Biden, Arnab Goswami (now known mostly for his ‘passionate’ speeches in the SSR case), and Kanika Kapoor. Anyone who was remotely related with the case was interviewed- watchmen, drivers, cooks, house-helps, old friends, ex-girlfriends, managers. It was incomprehensible that someone would ‘drink a glass of juice’ before they decided to die. Depression was reduced to explicit, gut-wrenching sadness- everyone should have known or it didn’t happen.
As the case took numerous twists and turns, the audience became more speculative. Everyone watched closely, as they did 12 years ago when Aarushi Talwar was found dead in Noida, India. Everything was adjudicated by everyone- why her parents were grieving the way they were, whether she was an adoptive child, whether her father had an extra-marital affair, or whether she was sexually assaulted before her death. At one point, news channels flashed her 17-year-old friend’s number on live television and encouraged viewers to send them messages ‘guessing who the murderer was’. In 2020, channels ran ultra-exclusive interviews, flashed private messages on screen, micro-analyzed what they meant, and ran hashtags like #ArrestRhea before the CBI or the Narcotics Control Bureau submitted their reports. By September, other hashtags such as #BoycottBollywood surfaced. By September end, actors were probed regarding a completely different issue- consumption of illegal drugs. Even though the epicenter of the debate was still the life and unfortunate death of Rajput, the limelight kept shifting due to insufficient evidence. In August 2017, parents of Aarushi Talwar were acquitted for the lack of substantial evidence. Even as I write this article, no arrests have been made regarding the death of Rajput. Chakraborty was arrested briefly during September for procuring drugs, and later released. Till this day, fan pages and social media users continue leaving comments on Bollywood actors’ accounts- regarding why they didn’t upload a photo of the actor when he passed away, why they didn’t attend his funeral, or whether they were trying to take media attention away from the case by releasing their films. Even though three separate agencies (state police, central investigations, and narcotics) had made no conclusive remarks on homicide or abetment, a number of viewers felt cheated.
In their 5-month-long investment into the case, everyone had imagined their own version of ‘justice’. And in the aftermath of everything said and done, something extraordinary had to happen for people to move on.
The United Nations Children’s Fund makes an interesting remark on sensationalism and cyberbullying. The organization states that sensational reportage of cyber-bullying doesn’t help the cause of psycho-educating parents, children and adults. In fact, it creates unnecessary panic and fear and implies that only policy-level changes can salvage the situation whereas bullying itself is a systemic issue. Social Media trials may be cheekily compared to McCarthyism- the practice of making accusations of subversion or treason without sufficient evidence. Even though this expression was originally coined in relation to communist infiltration in the USA, it is not difficult to see how it applies on the internet today.
To combat cyberbullying, Instagram recently announced two new features in May 2020. Users can now manage unwanted interactions by choosing multiple comments to delete, or restrict/hide specific comments and profiles. They can also pin desired comments to the top and choose who can/cannot tag them. These features are in addition to other features such as restricting comments to only followers, or completely disabling comments. However, critics still believe that these updates only scratch the surface in making online spaces safer. For instance, while shadow bans may be applied on content that is repetitive, sexual or violent, how these bans work is largely unknown/arbitrary. When it comes to laws against cyberbullying, multiple sections of the Indian Penal Code can be applied depending on the context. The Information Technology Act 2000 (IT Act) can be used to fight bullies online. Cyber-stalking of women was recognized as an offence, subsequent to the insertion of section 345D in the IPC in 2013. However, this law does not apply to cyberstalking of men. In case a man is stalked/harassed online, other provisions of the IPC or IT Act may apply. For instance, sections 499 and 500 of the IPC apply to cases of ‘derogatory remarks’ (this provision is not gender specific).
If you’re being bullied/harassed online, you could use the application to report/block/restrict contact with the bully. However, if you’re dissatisfied with the response, you can launch an official complaint against the said person on the National Cyber Crime Portal. You can file an anonymous complaint by providing the necessary details of the person in question.
The spaces we occupy online often come to impact us offline. I can argue that I choose my journey, but bits of my existence remain trapped in an alternate reality that is increasingly becoming important. Perhaps, this is why social media is often hated and feared, but never ignored. I refuse to believe that it is a dingy cave with no exit. It is as real as your last kiss, and as intangible as your last heartbreak. Some movements begin and persist by the sheer power of social media, and some are completely destroyed. I suppose it’s come down to the old, overused, and painfully true rhetoric of the knife that can be used to kill or cut an apple. As I stated before, the bully is now nameless, hiding in plain sight. They are neither extra-terrestrial nor invincible. They may work 9–5, may work at home/from home, or sit quietly in the corner of the class. And sometimes, they maybe you and I.