My name is at the top of this article, or maybe at the bottom but I’ll write it again, just to make it clear. My name is William White. Some of you may know me, have seen me on the Quad, or in a class. I’ve got brown hair and blue eyes and a silly British accent, and I only own two pairs of jeans.
Now that I have written them, published them in paper and online, the words which I write flow from me, to you, to anyone else; you’ll always know that these words came from my hands me tapping away at my keyboard, probably with a latte from the Green Bean and one of those sticky cinnamon buns from the MP, in a nook of the library, wearing one of those two pairs of jeans.
What I say can — and should — affect how you perceive me as part of this community, especially if I intend for those words to be effective within it. Publishing thoughts on an app like Fizz, a campus-focused social media service, is damaging in that it erodes accountability through the allure of anonymity, and in so doing erodes the feeling of belonging and unity campus life should encourage.
While the hype and controversy surrounding the app have died down since its launch at Oxy in the last couple of weeks, we can still learn a lot from the fallout. Fizz’s tagline, ‘hear what your community has to say,’ appeared to me a cruel twist of irony, since I didn’t think that Oxy students would say a load of racist drivel. In a way, we should not be surprised.
Its common knowledge that anonymity breeds aggression. In a 2013 paper about the impact of anonymity on online communities, Pomona computer science researchers concluded that harassment, swearing, anger and general negativity are more present in online spaces where anonymity is allowed than those where users are made to identify themselves, and that being forced to share one’s identity generally promoted a more positive atmosphere within similar spaces.
In keeping with these findings, apps like Fizz have come and gone before, often unceremoniously. Yik Yak, a similar college-focused app, was launched in 2013, and within four years was shut down for devolving into sexist and racist threats, content and harassment. While it got re-released in 2021, it once again was banned on campuses, like Washington College. Third time’s the charm, right?
Abuse online within most social media platforms is far outside of our influence — talking about Fizz should be important to us because the hate we find there is manufactured by us. We allowed it onto our turf, into our community, much as we let apps like Yik Yak come before. The harassment should matter to us as it reveals sentiments among our own community that one wouldn’t voice on the quad, or in class — not because they’re afraid but because they know it’s incongruous with the values we strive to uphold. It’s not that the app gives a space for people to hide their hateful views like they’re an embarrassing secret; Fizz is actively harmful because it allows actors to project hate into community space, where it festers like a disease.
A hurtful comment from one person stings, but knowing the source numbs the blow. We can reason with it, reason with its source and even confront them if we want. Being hurt doesn’t mean that the world is against us. But seeing hateful comments from an online specter can really haunt you. It could be anyone; it could be everyone. While it may seem like a break from the paranoia, the anonymity Fizz provides only serves to fuel a sense of alienation, and therefore fuel demand for more anonymity, leading to more alienation. Maybe I was wrong before. These apps don’t just erode — they are antithetical to the existence of community entirely.
I’m not trying to suggest that we all have to be seen, heard and known at all times. We don’t live in some insane police state. It is OK to want a break from the surveillance. I know that it can often feel impossible to escape the confines of campus. Being on an exchange program from a school with more than 30,000 students, I know firsthand how crushing it is to be constantly bombarded by the presence of your peers when there’s only a handful of them and they all live on top of each other. What do I look like? Am I saying the right things? Did anyone see me spill my Green Bean latte on my previous pair of jeans? Just last semester, in fact, Beatrice Irwin wrote about this feeling in beautiful detail. She felt it, students like those from Washington College felt it and you probably feel it too.
But in many ways, this feeling is what’s so beautiful about the small liberal arts college thing that we have at Oxy. These things bring us together, they socialize us to accept our faults and those of others as members of one Oxy community. While we should find a place to be heard, voice what we feel, vent to our peers, be funny or challenging and maybe even sometimes engage in conflict, freedom of speech requires accountability. Otherwise, it’s just abusive mud-throwing. So, when someone comes to the Quad, offering anonymity and free donuts, maybe think a little more about how its benefits don’t come without downsides. It’s not quite a deal with the devil, but you can’t have your doughnut and eat it too.
Contact Will White at wwhite@oxy.edu
Someone had to say it. Thank you for the beautifully written article Will!