Ratings121
Average rating3.9
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
In the end, this felt like one guys ramblings on why he doesn't like cancel culture
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!
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.
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.
There's a term that gets bandied about a lot in conversations about social media that I find particularly grating: personal branding. The idea behind personal branding is that we need to market ourselves, to create a persona, to hide behind a crafted veneer, when we engage with others online; it is the notion that if everything we say and do can be interpreted in many ways, we need to ensure that everything we do and say is crafted so conspicuously and consciously that there is only one way to interpret it, and that interpretation builds some kind of “brand equity.”
In essence, personal branding is a function of feeling as though, if everything we do and say is being watched, we should be putting on a such a show that it ensures that the watchers are pleased.
There is a certain blandness that comes from the idea of personal branding; in an effort to never offend, we hide that which makes us interesting. I'm not arguing that we must be offensive, of course, but what I do miss is the ability to be ourselves and make mistakes, to acknowledge that we aren't perfect and that we are flawed, and not have those mistakes define who we are.
There's a sentence towards the end of Jon Ronson's So You've Been Publicly Shamed that resonated with me:
“We are creating a world where the smartest way to survive is to be bland.”
“I used to worry that I bared my feelings too readily, too voluminously; more recently, when I'm thinking about them at all, I worry that I don't show them nearly enough.”
(Originally published on I Tell Stories.)
I really enjoyed this book.
Jon documented cancel culture before it was given a proper name.