By David Michael Newstead.
Crash Override recounts author Zoe Quinn’s experience at the center of GamerGate in 2014. Yet you don’t have to care anything about video games to recognize her ordeal as a case study on gender and technology’s dark side. So if the underbelly of the internet ever decides to make your life hell, Quinn outlines the weapons at their disposal. These include:
- False and abusive comments online
- Threatening phone calls
- Posting your address, social security number, and other personal information online
- Detailed threats of rape and murder
- Revenge Porn
- Stalking and cyberstalking
- Hacking your accounts
- Setting up fake accounts in your name
- Tricking police SWAT teams into raiding your house in the middle of the night
- And targeting your friends, loved ones, and contacts with all the abuse listed above
This opens the door to discussions about a whole range of important things from lack of responsiveness on the part of government authorities to tech giants not enforcing their own terms of service that would help to address these problems. Another aspect to this abuse is how it can mirror and exacerbate issues surrounding violence against women and discrimination faced by people of color and the LGBTQ community who are the most frequent targets of online abuse.
For me, two facts standout when thinking about this and they’re interrelated. First, that there is a well-documented lack of diversity in the tech industry. And second, that the internet has become central to our lives in ways that public policy hasn’t caught up to yet. Because of that, just telling someone to quit social media in response to attacks like this isn’t a real solution (and wouldn’t stop the abuse anyway). Access to and participation in all the positive things that the internet has to offer is no longer optional in our society. So then, the ability for everyone to enjoy what is essentially a public good takes on real significance. In the book, Quinn writes:
GamerGate wasn’t really about video games at all so much as it was a flash point for radicalized online hatred that had a long list of targets before, and after, my name was added to it. The movement helped solidify the growing connections between online white supremacist movements, misogynist nerds, conspiracy theorists, and dispassionate hoaxers who derive a sense of power from disseminating disinformation. This patchwork of Thanksgiving-ruining racist uncles might look and sound like a bad joke, but they became a real force behind giving Donald Trump the keys to the White House. Online abuse is by no means uncommon and can affect just about anyone for any reason, including totally normal people minding their own business. However, just because it can happen to anyone doesn’t mean that it strikes totally at random. The less you look and sound like a 1950s sitcom dad, the more likely it is that you’ll find yourself where I did – having your life torn apart by neo-Nazis.
In vivid and horrifying detail, Quinn describes everything that happened during GamerGate. The most admirable thing about the book though is that the author explains the tangible steps she’s taken since then to help other victims of online abuse (including former perpetrators of it) through her organization Crash Override. And even when discussing possible policy solutions, her measured and thoughtful perspective illustrates that she really does value the integrity of these online platforms. Whether these platforms value their own integrity seems to be an open question.