So You've Been Publicly Shamed

This was fascinating— Ronson combines personally interviews with people notoriously shamed on the internet, work with psychology experts and a ton of first person journalism to explore shaming and our responses. There's no easy answers here — in the afterword he says basically “some people prioritize ideology over humans; I prefer humans” and that captures a lot of this book: there's a lot of humanity here. Which means a lot of care for human beings and thoughtful approaches to not what “feels right” but actually helps people do right. There's not shaming of shamers, either — Ronson is also honest about his own temptations to scoff at people over the internet. For such a firebrand of a topic it's calm and personalized. And very readable.

Read this!

I really enjoyed this book.

Jon documented cancel culture before it was given a proper name.

I picked this up after a particularly tumultuous week of YouTube scandals. My questions were less about specific individuals, and more about what we ultimately hope to gain in “cancelling” someone. We want people held accountable for their actions. We want them to see the harm in what they did. We want them to feel bad and say sorry. Maybe the person called out has a large platform, maybe their followers are young, maybe they need to think carefully about the messages they are sending to impressionable masses. But...then what? I'm not sure any of us know, including Ronson.While interesting and often funny, this was scattered. Ronson jumps from person to person and topic to topic. This kept me reading, but as I neared the end I kept waiting for him to make connections and form an argument, or at least some sort of takeaway. The last chapter was so abrupt. The final few sentences seemed meant to pack a punch, but I was thoroughly underwhelmed. The argument itself was boring and predictable, and he hadn't even laid the groundwork for it. Luckily Ronson doesn't fault something inherent in technology. I wasn't looking for a dismissal or condemnation of social media, because I think it can elevate important but marginalized perspectives. Wesley Lowery writes about this in [b:They Can't Kill Us All 29467267 They Can't Kill Us All Ferguson, Baltimore, and a New Era in America's Racial Justice Movement Wesley Lowery https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1475156955s/29467267.jpg 49743766]. One surprising pattern was how eagerly both shamers and “shamees” reached for labels like “sociopath” and “psychopath” to justify shaming. We don't have to talk about the Shane Dawson Jake Paul documentary, but suffice it to say it reminded me of that. Pop psychology shows up throughout the book, but I think Ronson does a decent job defining concepts. I would have liked more focus on deindividuation.Because of my personal interests, I also would have liked Ronson to talk more about power dynamics—what's the difference between calling out someone with millions of subscribers vs. less than 200 followers? Also, he touched on it, but for how consistent a theme it was, he could have further explored misogyny in social media pile-ons. Zuckerberg kind of does this in [b:Not All Dead White Men 38240525 Not All Dead White Men Classics and Misogyny in the Digital Age Donna Zuckerberg https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1524483798s/38240525.jpg 59922909], but not really (not that's she trying to).This is a pretty unique and easy-to-read nonfiction, but it has its flaws. Just a warning: suicides are peppered throughout. I found this jarring and depressing, especially because Ronson typically mentions these deaths frankly then quickly moves on. And in the end, he doesn't really provide many answers. I'm glad I read it, but it could use some paring down. Kind of like this review.

Funny and thought-provoking. I stayed up past my bedtime to finish this one. And the audiobook version is read by the author. It's wonderful!

An alarming look at the power of the crowd, our preoccupation with schadenfreude (even when we think it's casual), and, as always, an eye opening investigation into the power and chaos the Internet gives over to the user when we reach for our computers/phones. This book made me re-think how I respond to the witch-hunts of the modern day (the Zuckerbergs of the world et al when we think about 2018) and challenged me to consider my own actions/involvement in such seasons.

Ooo I started 2018 on a HIGH note and swallowed this book whole.

Its message is so applicable and timely, I would urge everyone take it up, but specifically my generation and those younger.

We are living in a world that will does not forget and has reintroduced a new wave of public shaming as the just punishment for wrongdoings, accidental or intentionally alike. Ronsen does an incredible job giving readers the full picture without stamping his morality over the story.

This book was important and convicting and has me thinking still.

i agree with some of the 2-star reviews here, but...

People are terrible

This book is simply a reminder that the internet is a dark, creepy, and scary place. And a place to steer away from. Jon Ronson has done a fantastic job of detailing the finer aspects of a topic that few talk about – public shaming. And how to recover, if you're a victim of shaming.

What have I learnt from reading this book?

1) Don't do anything stupid on the internet. Duh. The fewer footprints you leave online, the better.
2) Don't even try hurting someone on the internet. It's very easy to do this though because of inherent bias of crowd behaviour. This is far worse than doing something stupid.
3) Unfortunately, empathy is a difficult trait to acquire; either you have it, or you don't. Most don't. Even the good guys don't have it.

This book also sheds insights on deshaming and how powerful kindness can be to those affected by public shaming. The world (and the internet) will be a better place if we all read this book.

This book brought up some interesting feelings for me. I haven't been publicly shamed, but a number of the incidents documented here I was aware of when they happened – and took a sense of schadenfreude in the incidents. It's hard to understand just how out of proportion some of the responses from the media and public were though, which this book did a good job of highlighting – and following up on those shamed.

This book brought up some interesting feelings for me. I haven't been publicly shamed, but a number of the incidents documented here I was aware of when they happened – and took a sense of schadenfreude in the incidents. It's hard to understand just how out of proportion some of the responses from the media and public were though, which this book did a good job of highlighting – and following up on those shamed.

Very sobering read about Twitter hate mobs and this horrible malign engine that is in all of us.

I'd give this one 3.5 stars if I could. Entertaining and thought-provoking, but I felt a little unsatisfied with it as well. Can't pinpoint it, but I will update my review if the thought that captures my sentiment comes to me.

Really fascinating book. Did something for me that rarely happens with a book - it fundamentally changed my behavior. I used to take a high level of joy in internet lynch mobs - attacking clueless people who had embarrassed themselves in public. Reading about people who have gone through this is such an eye opener. I also always put it down thinking harder about shame, sin, guilt, etc.

The thoughts of the author, near the end of the book:

“And so we have to think about what level of mercilessness we feel comfortable with. I, personally, no longer take part in the ecstatic public condemnation of people unless they've committed a transgression that has an actual victim, and even then not as much as I probably should. I miss the fun a little.”

Ronson concludes that it's the norm to be merciless, assumes that we can accurately judge who needs to be publicly shamed, and that it's okay if lives are ruined because someone “commits a transgression that has an actual victim”. “Ecstatic public condemnation”??? Aren't we trying to move past that as a society?

Read this poorly organized, rambly, presumptuous book if you are interested in the often prurient details of shaming victims. Recommend it to people you don't like who seem to have too much time on their hands.

Justine Sacco's ill advised tweet of “Going to Africa. Hope I don't get AIDS. Just kidding I'm white!” was sent out to a mere 170 followers. Somehow, in the 11 hour span of her flight, she landed to find she had become a worldwide phenomenon with people demanding she be killed, raped, arrested or, at the very least, fired.

This overzealous outrage has gotten out of hand. It's one thing when a vocal online community can bring corporate entities down a notch. It's only thing entirely when it ruins the lives of otherwise unremarkable folks. Sure it's a single tweet, but no snowflake ever feels like it caused the avalanche.

It's certainly stirring up discussion online. Which is a big part of the problem I have with the book. Between the interviews, think pieces, criticism, podcasts and reviews it felt like I'd already read most of the book already. It's like finally getting to watch the movie and all the best parts were already in the trailers.

It took a long time for me to finally review this book, because it made me think a lot about the culture of shaming that the internet has helped to foster. All my previous attempts at reviews ended up too stream-of-consciousness...which is usually how my reviews take shape but the ones for this book ended up much too long and essentially pointless after all the words were smushed together.

So I'm going to try and keep this (relatively) short by jumping off of something I've noticed in a couple of blog posts about this book - that Ronson is somehow trying to let Jonah Lehrer “off the hook”, and by extension, the idea that the punishment of public shaming fits the crime in some cases (the cases that the author deems appropriate - mob judgment, basically). While I did notice that Ronson seemed to downplay some of Lehrer's crimes, I didn't read his analysis as an attempt to get us to forgive Lehrer for what he did. His look was at the phenomenon of public shaming, for whatever reason, and I think we can agree that making a public apology in front of a live feed of negative feedback is probably nightmare fuel for many of us. No, we don't have to forgive him. We don't have to support his publication anymore or read any of his work. We can continue to bring up his plagiarism whenever someone discusses him. What I took away from Ronson's book though, is that we could stand to inject a little compassion into the way we interact online. You don't have to forgive someone to also not want to see them publicly humiliated. Something I found interesting was how many people said things like “don't be so dramatic, it'll blow over, the internet will move on” in response to backlash against racist tweets or unwise photos. It's easy to feel that way when you make one tweet on the issue and move on, but to the person who is under barrage of death threats day after day, it's harder to brush off. The internet doesn't really move on, and some of the people profiled in Ronson's book lived in fear every day that their new employer or partner or whoever would find out about their internet shame. And maybe men are able to forget just how gendered internet backlash can be. Men rarely get rape threats and, at least to me, being called a “stupid idiot” vs. a “dumb bitch” reveals quite a different level of misogyny.

I don't think that people shouldn't be held accountable for their actions. Racist comments warrant calling out, plagiarism needs to be dealt with. But like Ronson pointed out in the beginning of his book, public shaming is cruel and there's a reason we removed it from our law books. Embarrassing or attacking someone for a mistake will not help them learn why it was wrong or help them to move past it. I believe that humans in groups can lack compassion, which makes us cold and torturous. We as individuals believe that one nasty comment can't matter, but that attitude taken as a whole means that we are indifferent to lives we've helped to ruin.

Not as short as I was hoping...
tl;dr it is possible to act compassionately towards people while still holding them accountable for their actions, and we need to remember that internet harassment can ruin people's lives.

A wonderfully written book about this recent, horrifying social phenomenon of Twitter pile-ons of moral outrage and indignation, often carried out in the name of some noble cause like stamping out racism or sexism. But mostly it's just people being awful to people they don't know, and feeling very good about it. Remember Justine Sacco?

Anyway, Jon Ronson is a wonderful writer. He manages to be very funny and very informed, while giving quite a layered look at all sides of a very complex social phenomenon.

Makes you want to abandon social media. Makes you think twice about reviewing books on Goodreads, even!