A BuzzFeed story earlier this week toggled between celebrating the citizen "journalism" of 18-year-old Morgan Jones (whose intrepid Reddit postings on the movie theater shooting in Aurora, Col. beat
nearly all of the mainstream media) and condemning similar "reporting" efforts that failed, like the Boston bombing reports and the outing of the alleged victim behind
Rolling Stone’s
bungled UVA rape story. The story came to the unsatisfying conclusion that "depending on where you fall along the moral and ethical lines drawn by this type of vigilantism, citizen journalism is
arguably weaker or stronger than it’s ever been."
The story might have spared us some 1,600 words by simply saying "Thanks to the Internet, anybody can post anything they want and find an
audience. Some of it will be right, some of it wrong, but you will never know which, since there are no professional news editors to filter what gets posted and what doesn't."
Between comments
sections, "consumer-generated media," link-bait photo lists, and apps designed to help high school students anonymously attack each other, the digital age has certainly brought out the worst in us.
While you might argue that Morgan Jones' Aurora "reporting" was a public service and a net gain for those who prefer their news NOT filtered by the Will McAvoys of this world, I would counter that
such "successes" are far outweighed by the toilet bowl of content that makes up a vast part of the Internet world. The impulse to be first with the worst seems to be more important than taking a
moment to consider: "Is this really a good idea?"
To be clear, I am not talking about the Internet's bottomless oceans of pornography, videos posted to foster hate, fear or misinformation like
the ISIS beheadings, or the unending parade of blog-based rants designed to propagate vitriolic philosophies conceived in the dark hearts of embittered lost souls -- but rather the rancorous content
and comments that sites like, well, BuzzFeed for one, seem to inspire.
Someone assembles photos of has-been celebrities gone-to-seed in their bathing suits, and it becomes a "Worst Celebrity
Beach Bodies" feature. Why? Because there is enough traffic in observers-of-the-lurid to justify it. As Baltimore Sun journalist H. L. Mencken once wrote: "Nobody ever went broke
underestimating the intelligence of the American public."
But more concerning is the growing use of the Internet to blackmail and/or embarrass, because it’s so easy to do. The
“Fappening” release of hundreds of otherwise private cell phone photos of celebrities is the most recent and sensational example. Who among us does not know of a compromising photo of
ourselves currently in the possession of another, who could post it to the Internet tomorrow if they wanted to? Or who knows of an indiscretion we committed way back when that will make headlines
should we ever, say, run for office?
Who can blame Web sites for eliminating comments sections where conversations quickly move off-topic and devolve into personal attacks on other commenters
(or races, religions, or political persuasions)? If I ran a Web site (well, I do, but it has no comments section) I would only post remarks from those willing to post their name, photo, email
address and phone number. To me, hiding behind anonymity is the lowest form of cowardice and torpor.
Finally, the appeal to the lowest common audience denominator in the relentless race for
traffic and social media pickup has gradually lowered the standards of nearly every news site I know. After all, "Ten Restaurants That The Health Department Wants to Close" will always
profoundly outpull "Five Reasons Why You Should Understand The FTC's Position on Net Neutrality."
In the end, we only have ourselves to blame. We vote with our clicks each and every day, and
tell the world what interests us and what doesn't.