"She should stay in the brothel where she clearly belongs."
"Being hated is sometimes very well deserved."
"Drop dead, you dirty dog c***."
"Die, Nazi scum."
In Australia, more than a third of internet users have experienced some kind of online harassment or abuse such as offensive language, being sent unwanted sexual material or threats of physical violence.
In some industries, such as politics and journalism, online abuse is commonplace, and even expected — particularly for women or people from minority communities.
Victorian MP Fiona Patten has spoken publicly about the toll such abuse takes, last year revealing she had deactivated some of her social media accounts after becoming concerned about the wellbeing of her staff, who were having to wade through "misogynistic, violent" comments, including the ones above.
But while online abuse can have serious psychological impacts on individuals, it also has broader implications for a healthy society. With the pandemic exposing deep ideological divisions within the community and a federal election looming, there are growing concerns such attacks are shutting down crucial conversations, pushing out voices, and ultimately threatening the health of Australia's democracy.
Women 'toning down' coverage, leaving journalism
Online abuse has a uniquely "chilling" effect on women and people from culturally diverse communities. Research suggests that 71 per cent of female journalists have experienced online abuse, with Indigenous and LGBTIQA+ journalists disproportionately impacted.
The consequences are alarming. Many journalists say they've "toned down" or avoided covering some stories after being harassed online, while others have reported leaving the profession entirely.
This silencing effect is even more concerning when considered in the context of when journalists experience the most abuse — when writing about gender, politics, and human rights.
But for many trolls, silencing is precisely the goal: Online abusers often target their harassment to dissuade women from pursuing careers in journalism, and deter journalists from reporting on particular topics.
Following his investigation into alleged war crimes by Australian forces in Afghanistan, ABC journalist Mark Willacy was targeted with violent threats online, including videos of his book being burnt and shot. (Victoria Police in December charged a man with making a threat to kill and using a telecommunications device to menace.)
Abuse 'relentless, normalised' in Australian politics
Online abuse is also frequently directed at politicians. An analysis by social data company Max Kelsen in 2016 found Julia Gillard received twice as much abuse as Kevin Rudd, and that the abuse was "more personal, vitriolic and often sexual".
A study by PhD candidate Medha Majumdar considered the toll of both online and offline harassment on female politicians, which she describes as "relentless and normalised in Australian politics, particularly for diverse women".
She found online abuse can have devastating offline implications: Some female MPs said they'd had to move house and increase security because of ongoing threats, while others said they'd left politics altogether.
Of the women working in politics who were surveyed by Majumdar, three-quarters (74 per cent) said harassment had negatively affected their interest in remaining in politics.
"A female sitting member should be a respected position in a respected office in society, but you're constantly having to deal with online abuse," Majumdar said. "This pushes women to move away from social media, which means they are disadvantaged come re-election, because people engage on the internet to discuss and understand politics."
Staff who manage politicians' social media accounts are also exposed to online abuse, with potentially catastrophic consequences.
"In Australia we have a political pipeline system where people interested in politics might work for an MP to understand the position then run for public office," Majumdar said. "This constant viewing of abuse deters young people, and young women particularly, from running for office. They think, is this going to be a safe environment for me in the future? Is this something I want to be dealing with for the next 20 years of my career?"
'The abuse thrown at me is always the same'
After shutting down her social media accounts last year, MP Fiona Patten raised similar concerns about online abuse.
"I can't count on both hands the number of women who won't go on Twitter," she said. "It's having a silencing effect. I used to have a lot of fun on Twitter but now I'm very cautious about the words I use and what I say. It reminds me of how women are careful about what they wear at night to avoid attacks."
She's not the only one speaking out. Tasmanian local government members last year released a statement claiming that online abuse was having a "chilling effect" on women wanting to serve on local councils.
They pointed to a 2019 survey which found 60 per cent of elected members had been bullied or harassed online. Women representatives, the members said, experienced more abuse and attacks than their male colleagues. The group said:
"No-one enters politics if they have thin skin. You expect — indeed, welcome — different perspectives and robust debate focused on the issues. However, what we see every week in Tasmanian local politics, especially on social media, is debate that crosses the line. It stops being about policy or even party politics and becomes deeply personal."
NSW Greens Senator Mehreen Faruqi did not anticipate the level of abuse she would receive as Australia's first female Muslim senator. The more she speaks up, she said, the more she's targeted.
"It took me a while to realise that, no matter what I say, the abuse thrown at me is always the same," Dr Faruqi said. "It is based on where I come from, what I look like, my religion. It is making me the 'other'. It takes its toll on your health, the health of your team, on the health of your loved ones and your family."
But it also takes a toll on the willingness of marginalised communities to participate in democracy, she believes:
"It has the effect of people not wanting to engage in debate and representation at a political level. I mean, look at our parliament. There is a reason why we are so unrepresentative of mainstream Australia."
For Dr Faruqi, part of the solution lies in fixing the underlying societal issues that contribute to online abuse, and that can start with other MPs calling it out when they see it.
"Leaders should call it out, and not do it themselves," she said. "It is not uncommon for politicians to dog whistle or to spark outright racism or to stand on the sidelines and not say anything. That needs to change."
Scientists are self-censoring, too
The Parliamentary Education Office states that democracy "relies on the participation of citizens" and the central tenets of democracy include tolerance of opposing ideas and freedom of speech.
In that way, self-censorship in response to online abuse can affect the health of our conversations and industries, and act as a barrier to diverse inclusion.
Of course, it's not only journalism and politics that are being influenced by online abuse, but these institutions are vital to a healthy democratic society — particularly amid a pandemic and approaching election time. Another is science, which is also grappling with the fallout of senior scientists stepping away after being targeted online.
The Australian Science Media Centre last year reported that one in five scientists surveyed had received threats of physical or sexual violence after speaking to the media about COVID-19, with many no longer willing to do interviews as a result.
"That concerned us given the impact of taking world leaders with key expertise out of public debate," said Lyndal Byford, director of news and partnerships at the Australian Science Media Centre. Ultimately, she said, "The public suffers as there is less quality information."
One such scientist is Dale Dominey-Howes, a professor of hazard and disaster risk sciences at Sydney University who has spoken publicly about natural disasters and climate change.
Speaking with the media is usually an enjoyable part of his role, he said, including because it makes him feel he's giving back to the community. But increasingly it's exposing him and his colleagues to threats of harm.
His worst experiences of online abuse followed a campaign to tackle climate change myths.
"I was getting trolled. I was getting insults," Professor Dominey-Howes said. "Somehow, I don't know how, individuals got a hold of my mobile and home address, so I was getting hate mail and death threats and poison letters where people had cut bits out of newspapers to create [messages like], 'I'm going to kill you, I know where you live, You're an idiot. Watch yourself'. And that was being sent to my home.
"It did affect my emotional and mental wellbeing and I spent much of the year away from doing that work because it was just so overwhelming."
Nicolle White is the ABC's social media wellbeing advisor.
