Yeah, I know.
On paper, this probably seems like the weirdest follow up to last week’s treatise on over-connectedness, but it actually works pretty well as a related book. I’d be interested in doing more book pairings, though this one was admittedly accidental (and probably not what most people would take out of it). I’ve been waiting for the release of this book for months and it just so happened to coincide with last week’s thought process. Fortuitous.
So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed is actually a really great lesson in disconnectedness, or perhaps disassociation. The various subjects of Jon Ronson’s “case studies” are people who have been outed and shamed in some way that generally reaches quite a large audience. In fact, you’ve almost definitely heard of some of these stories- maybe the name Justine Sacco doesn’t immediately ring a bell, but you probably recall from somewhere that a woman was fired in a very high profile manner over a tweet about AIDS and being white. And that itself is really what Ronson tackles.
Again, while you may not remember Justine Sacco’s name (I’m using it because it’s one of the widest reaching incidents), you remember the situation. And the disconnectedness comes in here: anyone’s immediate thought is “I’m really glad that wasn’t me”. And from there, word spreads and the same sentiment is repeated over and over again relative to the story- I’m really glad that wasn’t me. And then eventually, she is identified primarily by the transgression and everyone else moves on, but the story follows her forever and you see follow ups from time to time and so still- I’m really glad that wasn’t me. From behind the the veil of anonymity that the Internet allows, her shamers are nameless but her life has been ruined, warranted or otherwise. And again, you’re probably even in this moment thinking I’m really glad that wasn’t me. (You’re not wrong to think that.)
More than anything, though, this is the exact issue with this disassociation. At some point, the Internet decided en masse that this person was deserving of some kind of punishment but failed to consider her as a human being. Ronson explores this disassociation and pairs it with theories of the group mentality that is so pervasive in these situations. It doesn’t matter how small you think your virtual reach is- if even your smallest mistake is noticed by the wrong people, it could come to be the defining moment of your life. So in that way, that disassociation is not only dangerous but is especially cruel- it could truly and genuinely happen to anyone.
There are some seemingly legitimate arguments for shaming- perhaps not of the organic Internet riot persuasion, but could have its place in a controlled setting (as it has in the past). Ronson cites some ways in which shame can be more powerful than imprisonment, though in the process, there is always a risk of psychological destruction. I’m still wrestling with some of those pieces myself- it’s a compelling concept, or at least a compelling conversation.
The book is incredibly well-written and well-researched, with lots of relevant studies and information. It’s a little bit of a gut punch to realize that you’re sometimes unwittingly part of the problem- while I have never spouted vitriol over social media, I have definitely shared these stories, likely sharing the same I’m really glad that wasn’t me message verbatim. I will admit to also spending some time looking deeper into the stories that Ronson shares throughout the book to get a better sense of these peoples’ stories and found myself time and again being really glad that wasn’t me. It’s normal and it’s human nature, but it’s a book that left me reeling a bit and will offer good perspective in the future.
You’ll like this if: you’re into schadenfreude…or are more generally (less vindictively?) interested in actions and consequences. If you don’t want to come to terms with the fact that everything you say is open to negative interpretation, this might be a book for you to skip.
Happy reading!
carlyreads 