After a burst of online attention over a recent piece, I wanted to throw my phone into the Thames, change my name, and go live in an igloo.
After a burst of online attention over a recent piece, I wanted to throw my phone into the Thames, change my name, and go live in an igloo.
O n Sunday, National Review published my article about Britain’s two-tier judiciary and uniquely harsh sentencing for offenders perceived as right-wing. Aaron Sibarium, the star reporter at the Free Beacon, shared excerpts from the story on Twitter/X, which caught Elon Musk’s attention. Their posts about my story have garnered over 30 million views combined. For the first time in my life, I was experiencing some kind of (online) fame, and my phone was buzzing constantly. It was exciting exposure — but it also was a valuable lesson in how journalism today turns writers into virtual punching bags as deranged strangers hit you with baseless attacks.
I am grateful that Musk spotlighted my reporting and brought awareness to what I consider an important issue, but that light attracted a swarm of angry internet users. My inbox was filled with messages of expletives and insults, as well as inappropriate questions about an imagined romantic relationship between me and Musk. Since I live in the United Kingdom, people suggested that I was partially responsible for ongoing problems here because, supposedly, I had voted for the progressive prime minister Keir Starmer, despite the fact that I have never voted here nor for a left-wing candidate. But I was simultaneously condemned for being right-wing, allegedly “groomed and brainwashed by the federalist society.”
Other allegations attacked my reporting. I was accused of plagiarizing a Twitter/X thread, yet even a cursory read would show the obvious differences between my article and those posts (only three of the eight judges my article mentioned are named in that thread). For the record, I conducted my own research and largely discussed entirely different evidence that was unmentioned in that thread, although I and that other writer did independently arrive at a few of the same citations. That is a coincidence, not plagiarism that warrants an apology, and I don’t claim to be the first or sole person to notice sentencing disparities.
Even the people who endorsed my reporting seemed to be electronically screaming at me. Some of them were angry that my piece wasn’t longer, admonishing me for not covering other judges and cases. Others insisted that I pursue the mutually contradicting actions of joining an anti-immigration protest here in the United Kingdom and also leaving the United Kingdom immediately. (I will, in fact, be completing the second year of my degree largely from D.C., in part because the odds of my being sent to prison in the U.K. for speech are not negligible.)
Thankfully, there were some positive messages. Friends texted me to congratulate me on the Musk retweet, saying “this is super cool” and “that’s so great.” But was it? I’m a free-speech fundamentalist who defends people’s right to say practically anything, including anything to or about me. On social media, I won’t block or mute any account (unless it sends me lewd photos, which happens disturbingly often). But, unlike provocateurs who relish being the subject of controversy, I simply do not find social-media attacks to be invigorating. At the same time, I find them hard to ignore. Rather than celebrate the unexpected burst of attention to my work, I wanted to throw my phone into the Thames, change my name, and go live in an igloo.
Before social media, writers certainly received criticism, although it didn’t amount to anything like standing in the virtual public square and being pelted with insults by angry, anonymous strangers. The price of doing business in the journalism industry today is that your email is publicly available to allow anyone to contact you with tips for stories, but that similarly allows unhinged people to contact you with whatever complaints they have that day. Reporters and opinion writers promote their work on social media to attract readers and attention to the issues, but the more people see your work, the more likely it is that there will be readers who hate it. Faced with the particular demands of being a writer in the age of social media, I can only resolve to continue telling the truth. Although I’m troubled by some hostile users on the internet, I know truth has nothing to fear.