“The media’s version of #MeToo is unrecognizable to the movement’s founder, Tarana Burke” said CNN in a feature following Burke’s TED Talk. What started with an inarguably important mission, to confront sexual violence, has almost certainly transformed into something different. The Atlantic said “Burke wants [the #MeToo movement] to return to its original—and specific—purpose: to serve as a counter to sexual violence.” Burke goes on to say, “people will pay attention if you throw a hashtag on it… People are simply taking the infrastructure that already exists—#MeToo, the movement and the hashtag—and appending additional ideas to it.”
The birth of social media has led to new interpretations of ‘justice’ and forever changed the way information spreads, and it has started to feel as though the court of public opinion can have more power than the court of law. As society wields this new power to instantly publish content that may go viral, subsequently destroying someone’s career, mental health or life, we must take pause to be considerate of these forces. “Me Too started with a hashtag, then morphed into a trend of public humiliation, trial by media, and personal boycotts that altered the standards by which a person is judged,” said The Federalist. The story of Alec Holowka is telling of truly how powerful social movements like this can be.
Zoe Quinn, who uses they/them pronouns, became famous for their involvement in the Gamergate controversy, during which time they had received numerous death threats and been at the center of attack from a fuming social media mob. Years later, Quinn entered a relationship with game developer Alec Holowka, who had become an industry known celebrity for creating titles like Night in the Woods and Aquaria. Shortly following the couple’s breakup, Quinn publicly tweeted allegations of harassment and abuse. The unvalidated allegations caused an uprising on social media and led to a flood of fierce attacks on Holowka, which ultimately drove him to commit suicide shortly thereafter. The allegations were later “shown to be suspect, at the very least, and patently false at the worst” and never described him committing an actual crime. “There’s no way to give a defense in the court of public opinion,” says The Federalist. “A public defense on social media makes you look like a jerk, and therefore guilty. An admission of guilt often does not result in redemption but further ostracization.” Holowka’s sister, Eileen Mary Holowka, responded to her brother’s suicide by saying “Alec Holowka, my brother and best friend, passed away this morning… Alec was a victim of abuse and he also spent a lifetime battling mood and personality disorders.” In a world where suicide rates have grown by over 57% in the last 10 years, likely due to the impact of social and digital media, public scrutiny and threats online are an increasingly powerful force that can push someone over the edge. Something similar happened with Benny Fredricksson, the former head of the Stockholm Arts Center, who was anonymously accused of sexual misconduct and bullying. “He was shamed as a predator in the Swedish press, often on the basis of anonymous accusations. He was branded a ‘little Hitler’. He lost his job, his career, and his reputation. In March [2018], he killed himself.” Fredricksson’s wife, Anne Sofie von Otter, blames #MeToo for her husband’s death. Von Otter, in an interview, described how Fredriksson had fallen into ‘the deepest depression’. She said there were ‘pornographic undertones’ to the coverage of the accusations against him. ‘You can break a person’, she said, describing the campaign against him as ‘character assassination’.”
Attacking someone online solely based on allegations is incredibly dangerous and fundamentally disregards our universal right to a fair trial. A less extreme, yet illustrative, example can be seen with UploadVR, the virtual and augmented reality startup that faced a notorious wrongful discharge lawsuit in May 2017. The lawsuit, filed by a female employee who was let go from the company a month prior, was packed with salaciously written claims of harassment, discrimination, a hostile work environment and a series of other colorful allegations. These claims were immediately published as click-driving headlines without further verification and were tied to the MeToo movement, even despite there being no mention of things like touching, groping or similar misconduct. The suit came at an opportune time during the height of the MeToo movement, shortly after UploadVR had raised their $4.5 million Series A financing. Once the dust had settled, the suit was roundly criticized by outlets like Forbes for its “conclusions-first, facts-second approach”, saying “the MeToo movement is too important to let devolve into ‘vigilantism.’” The New York Times published a story further highlighting the salacious nature of the suit, saying it was quickly settled for a “modest sum”, and that “In contrast to the venture capitalists who were knocked off their perches this summer by harassment complaints… Taylor Freeman and Will Mason [the founders] were not forced to resign. Investors did not pull their money. The company’s events continued.” Clearly, things didn’t add up. Despite all of this, the damage had already been done by the initial wave of reactionary and unverified headlines.
Half a year later, UploadVR laid off their LA and SF coworking staff and transitioned the spaces to new operators, The Riveter and Starfish respectively, who continued to house their VR, AR and AI focused tenants. UVR Media LLC was formed and UploadVR continued to expand its existing platform of news and content. Even though the company was ultimately able to recover and reclaim its position in the media space, the whole thing dealt them a huge blow and destroyed much of what they had created to support the early VR and AR community. Clearly there seems to have been some childish behavior and a lack of structure, however the over-dramatized and opportunistic nature of cases like these are a prime example of ‘MeToo overreach’ causing more harm than good.
The Sh*tty Media Men List similarly made headlines after a Google Spreadsheet created by Moira Donegan, a former assistant editor at The New Republic, was shared between women who wrote anonymous accounts of the harassment and abuse they had experienced from specific men in the media industry. When she created it, Donegan wrote at the top of the spreadsheet things like, “This document is only a collection of misconduct allegations and rumors. Take everything with a grain of salt. Please never share this document with a man. Please never name an accuser. You can edit anonymously by logging out of your Gmail”. After learning from a friend that Buzzfeed was about to write a story covering the spreadsheet, making its existence public, Donegan took the spreadsheet offline, but it was too late.
One of the 70 men named in the list was Stephen Elliott, an accomplished author and director. After watching the document get circulated globally through the media while dragging his name through the mud, Elliott filed a lawsuit against Donegan saying that the anonymous and unwarranted claims nearly ruined his life and career. At the end of June this year, LaShann DeArcy Hall, the New York federal judge said she wouldn’t dismiss the case saying that the “Plaintiff’s degree of involvement in a controversy surrounding sexual assault, sexual harassment and consent in the workplace, if any, is de minimis” This is yet another prime example of the court of public opinion leaving a lasting scar on the reputation of those who may or may not be deserving, and only time can tell how things will land for Elliott and others on the list. Going through a lawsuit is rarely ideal, however there are few options left once a person gets into this position, especially when the claims are completely anonymous.
At its core, the Sh*tty Media Men List was likely well intentioned, to provide a warning about bad actors in the industry, but like many of the other examples it seems to have gone too far. Donegan even said “The document was indeed vulnerable to false accusations” and “I was incredibly naïve when I made the spreadsheet.” This whole thing leads to an important discussion around how to bring these concerns to light in the time of MeToo when digital media yields such tremendous power. Is it right to keep things anonymous to protect the victim? Or does that leave too much vulnerability for bad actors? Just think, if a business competitor or jealous ex wanted to ruin your life, they could just post a fabricated and anonymous Tweet that could lead to you losing your job, your reputation, and even your mental health to the point of no return. Is that fair? Is that right? While it’s important to believe the victim when they find the strength to come forward, it’s imperative to hold judgment until a fair trial has been conducted. This is increasingly challenging for companies, friends and others who find themselves caught in the middle, as the digital assault of cyberbullying mobs can surely feel like a tidal wave crashing over you. A common ground must be found or we will continue to experience these same types of tragedies.
All of this being said, the MeToo movement is still an incredibly important social and cultural force that is creating a net positive change. We must bring true justice to those who are inappropriately using their power, influence or other means to manipulate, abuse or mistreat victims, regardless of their gender or background. As we move forward, we must also remember to consider whether we are being fair and objective, or just following the herd and casting judgment before evidence has been confirmed. The more diligent we are in our pursuit of truth, the better off the world will be, and as we’ve seen, this could ultimately mean the difference between life and death.