I’m beginning to recognise the signs. Have you seen them too? The mercury is holding steady but there’s a sudden and unexpected stiffening of the breeze. And a darkening tint to the clouded sky. Yes — there can be no doubt — there’s a storm coming.
A Twitter-storm.
We’ve not had much of this kind of thing in the past but these squalls seem to be becoming more frequent. They are a very interesting phenomenon; the kind of climate change that I might welcome.
I don’t think anyone expected this sort of impact from Twitter. Maybe it’s illusory? The past two weeks have been so blustery that my head is still reeling. But things are calmer today so I have a moment to take stock.
I first noticed a change in the air when, on the night of Monday 12th October, Jack of Kent wrote a carefully worded post about an equally “carefully worded” article in The Guardian revealing that the paper had been prevented on legal grounds from reporting an item of parliamentary business. Within a few minutes news of the Guardian’s gag had spread around Twitter and the involvement of Trafigura and their attempts to keep secret their report on the dumping of toxic waste in the Ivory Coast came tumbling out. At the end of his post, Jack of Kent raised a quizzical eyebrow and wondered if the newspaper might have acted in a calculated fashion by placing enough cryptic clues in its article to let the twitterati solve the puzzle.
On Wednesday of that the week Twitter, or at least that tiny segment that I choose to keep an eye on, was alive with the unexpected news that Simon Singh had been granted leave to appeal Justice Eady’s ruling on the meaning of the word ‘bogus’ in the libel suit being brought against him by the British Chiropractic Association (BCA). At the Wesminster Skeptics in the Pub meeting the previous night where Singh and others had spoken out against the dis-empowering effect of the English libel laws, the mood had been feisty but resigned. So there was an eruption of delight buzzing across the net as soon as those attending the appeal hearing had managed to rush outside and reconnect with it.
The news of the appeal, and perhaps also the effusive response from Singh’s supporters, elicited a hasty press release from the BCA. The organisation affirmed it would continue to press its case because it felt it had been “maliciously attacked by Dr Singh in the Guardian newspaper” (my italics).
That careless adverb was seized upon immediately. Word went out on Twitter asking people to download or cache the BCA statement because it represented a serious mis-step by the organisation. They appeared to realise this themselves since the press release was quickly reworded to remove the offending term. But that was of course too late. As Jack of Kent explained in a post that evening, in attributing malice to Singh, the BCA had defamed him and the author may now be in a position to counter-sue. Whether he will do so remains to be seen but it was a moment of delightful irony. One that was shared by hundreds, probably thousands of witnesses, on Twitter.
The Trafigura and Singh cases came together on Wednesday of this past week in a parliamentary debate organised by Evan Harris (Liberal Democrat MP for Oxford West and Abingdon). Thanks to notification on Twitter I discovered it was being shown live on the web and managed to catch Harris’s impressive speech outlining the threats posed to open debate in this country by our laws on injunctions and libel. (You can watch it here or read the Hansard Report).
Evan Harris waxes lyrical
I suspect the audience for this debate was one of the largest they’ve had in a long time on Parliament TV. For me, who had never tuned in to a debate before, the revelation of this level of access was an impressive demonstration of the transparency of our parliamentary procedures, a window across which Trafigura had sought to draw a heavy curtain. I have them, and Carter-Ruck and all the good folk on Twitter to thank for bringing it to my attention.
But that’s not all. On Friday 17th October, just a couple of days after Singh’s success in the court of appeal, another storm thundered and flashed across Twitter as people reacted to Jan Moir’s now infamous Daily Mail article on the death of the Boyzone singer Stephen Gately. Without bringing any new information to bear on the case Ms Moir felt able to flatly contradict the cornoner’s finding of “death by natural causes”, link Gately’s death to the recent unrelated demise of Matt Lucas’s former partner and wax unlyrically about this being “another blow to the happy-ever-after myth of civil partnerships.” The article was grossly insensitive and struck many, including myself, as tapping into a homophobic vein. To add further insult, it appeared in the paper the day before Gately’s family were due to bury their beloved son. The reaction on Twitter was exponential; a few drops of rain in the morning turned into a crashing downpour by lunchtime.
Later that day Charlie Brooker fired off a characteristically caustic Comment is Free article in The Guardian that gave voice to many people’s anger at the insensitivity of Moir’s article. Helpfully, he detailed which aspects of the press code of conduct might have been breached. He also provided links to the Press Complaints Commission (PCC), information that was rapidly disseminated, 140 characters at a time.
As so, because I was appalled at the article and — crucially — had ready access to the means to do so, I logged on to the PCC web-site and, for the first time in my life, complained about a newspaper article. It took a little while to get connected; I think they were having trouble with the volume of traffic. Once I got through I saw that the PCC had obligingly put up a special link for those wishing to complain about Moir’s article.
Moir saw in all this an “orchestrated campaign”. I suspect that is probably what it feels like when over 20,000 people complain about your obnoxious journalism but there was nothing terribly orchestrated about it. Nobody told me what to do and I like to think that, in common with most other people, I have a mind of my own. But — as with Trafigura and the reports on the Singh-BCA case — there was instant access to information on Twitter and elsewhere on the web and to modes of action. And it was exciting be be able to be involved.
Finally in this past week great interest was excited by the appearance of Nick Griffin, the leader of the British National Party, on the BBC’s Question Time program. Griffin, an odious little-Englander racist who has denied the holocaust, faced a largely hostile audience in the studio. But there was an even larger audience watching at home and many of them were simultaneously bombarding Twitter with comments. It was a strange new experience to be watching TV in the company of this vociferous online audience. Thrilling even.
So I joined in.
I’m not sure if anything so very insightful was said in these comments. It felt much like shouting at the screen as you might do while watching football. But not entirely the same. Occasionally, because our society is thankfully not as homogenous as some might like it to be, there would be a dissenting or sparky view. One person wondered about the true value of all the self-righteous Griffin bashing. The comedian Peter Serafinowicz, observing those in the studio audience with their arms raised to catch the Chairman’s attention, made me laugh out loud by commenting “Surprising amount of people ‘sieg-heiling’ between questions.”
There have been lengthy and knowledgeable debates elsewhere on the rights and wrongs of the BBC’s invitation to the BNP’s elected representative. I won’t rehearse them here except to say that I favoured allowing Griffin to appear on Question Time. If freedom of speech is to mean anything, it must include allowing those whose views we despise to be heard. Anyone wishing to oppose Griffin and the BNP should have enough respect for the electorate to try to win the argument with facts and logic and a sense of natural justice (resources that Griffin so clearly lacks). We need to have some faith in our democratic institutions.
In Twitter, especially in these past two weeks, I think I detect the emergence of a new pillar to support our democracy, simply because it has provided a new way of bolstering of our freedoms of speech and information.
Now I have no doubt that there’s a mob element to much of the activity on Twitter. The re-tweet (RT), which simply re-broadcasts a comment that you have seen to all your followers probably makes it too easy for news to travel without the intervention of thought (though Ian Hopkinson suggested aninteresting possible counter-measure). And there’s certainly something primal about being part of the crowd – even when you’re not in close physical proximity to those baying around you.
But I would contend that it isn’t simply mobbishness. Perhaps it’s just from the people that I happen to follow on Twitter but there is a reflective thread running through all this commentary and activity. In the aftermath of the Moir shitstorm and his own foot-in-mouth episode with the people of Poland, Stephen Fry wrote a wonderfully thoughtful piece musing his own foibles, the accusation that he has a disproportionate influence as a result of his prominence on Twitter (at the time of writing he has nearly 900,000 followers) and, most interestingly, on the possible broader role of this new medium.
Of course I re-tweeted it as soon as I’d finished reading. (It is well worth a look.)
I get the sense that tools like Twitter are switching people on. It has certainly affected me. I noticed it first when Twitter became my primary source for news of the protests that erupted in Iran in the aftermath of their presidential election in June. In that case I was able to keep informed and to pass on information, reports of attacks by the security forces and links to photos and videos. It didn’t, I have to say, lead to much action beyond that on my part.
But these latest episodes — more home-grown — have been different. I have never felt more engaged in society than in these past two weeks. This has happened because I have better, faster access to the information about what is going on and because I have tools at my disposal, either through blogging or tweeting or writing to the PCC, to do something, even if it is just to make my voice heard.
I know just enough about human history not to get too carried away with the promise of a bright new future. But I cannot help being at least slightly optimistic that some of the energy humming around the internet might, just might, do some good.
Then again, perhaps it is just a local shower and will pass.
Quite a quiet Monday. So it wasn’t just me who had an exhausting weekend…
But for anyone interested, there has been some discussion of this post (initiated by Cameron Neylon) over on Friendfeed
Just finding it Stephen. I agree with a lot of your comments. I too have found myself getting cuaght up on the twitter feed side of things. A have a few friends who mock me for my supposed obsession with “what someone’s having for breakfast”. they turn a deaf ear to my protests that I’m using it as more of a news/social events feed (so I turn a deaf ear to them).
It will be very interesting to see how this plays out over time, and what evolves from it. Jan Moir’s comment about organised attacks leads to to interesting speculation and thoughts of “counter-measures” (some played out well in “Little Brother”, by Corey Doctorow).
Apologies for typos and grammar; too little time between meetings to proofread.
Hm. I guess I should retweet this, then.
Cheers Ian. There was a more negative take on some of these twittered proceedings in today’s Independent. It focused more on the yobbish behaviour of some of those on Twitter but tended to neglect the positive side – that people were getting involved.
And thanks for pointing out the link in Doctorow’s book. I bought it for my daughter (on your earlier recommendation) and she greatly enjoyed it. Must have a look myself, once I get out from underneath The Goldbug Variations…
Ta for the re-tweet Bob!
really good post. And thanks to Bob for bringing my attention to it.
Little to add except that I have felt much the same way over the last few weeks. And you missed out the example of the odious tube worker who resigned yesterday after being filmed on a mobile phone hurling abuse at an elderly customer.
And as for Stephen Fry, he ought to be rebranded as the first superhero of the internet – Twitterman, with the capacity to make hundreds of thousands do his bidding with a single flick of his iPhone.
Great post, Stephen. I, too, was tweeting as I watched QT. And because a few people retweeted my tweets, I felt engaged in a way I would never have done if I’d simply been hurling comments into the void.
I heard some noises about that tube worker, Bill, but didn’t follow it closely. I presume he may have attracted his own torrent of abuse in the twittersphere?
#twitchhunt seems to be the operative hashtag for this kind of activity. I see that AA Gill was heavily targeted today – having made a baboon of himself by shooting one of his own species out of casual curiosity. I’m not sure where the boundary lies between vociferous but legitimate outrage and the howls of a baying mob. The writer @jonronson had initially helped to stoke the fires of indignation but later regretted it. People seem to be trying to find their way.
Oh, and thanks for the re-tweet!
@Henry – this twittering while watching seems to be a more widespread trend than I realised. I noticed the other night that people were tweeting along to David Attenborough’s Life. But in that case I found it a distraction. Twitter may be more relevant to political programming (Question Time is a ideal format).
I got to follow the debate, or at least aspects of it by following your tweets.
Aw. Come here guys! GROUP HUG!
Glad you could follow the debate, Ian – I presume you mean Griffin’s appearance on Question Time? I had trouble keeping up (by following #bbcqt) since there was such an incredible tweet-rate.
However, sorry to have to inform you that HUGS aren’t being implemented until MT4 is up and running…!
Just checking in, too.
in attributing malice to Singh, the BCA had defamed him and the author may now be in a position to counter-sue. Whether he will do so remains to be seen but it was a moment of delightful irony.
Quite delightful. And I was sure you’d like your namesake’s blog post (I hadn’t followed the Muir episode, but thanks to Twitter, caught on fast.)
Yes Heather. I hesitate to mention Stephen Fry yet again on this blog (I presume that’s whom you meant) but he is such an interesting writer.
I find that Twitter is great for local engagement. I’m following my federal MP, provincial MLA, mayor and municipal government, plus my local transit authority, library, independent paper, farmer’s market organisation, and brewery.
That’s an interesting suggestion, Cath. Much of my own attention has been on national or London-based issues and activities. I’ve not thought to look to see if my local council has joined the twitter-stream.
I know my MP is not very internet-savvy. Have sent 2 emails in the past couple of months and received not so much as an acknowledgement.
FYI – came across a great piece on the history/development of Twitter in Wired (via Twitter, of course! )
And here in today’s Guardian is a considered article by Jon Henley examines some of the recent twitteruptions (and also folds in the Wired article that I mentioned just above).
I’ll stop now – too many self-comments in a row seems like bad form…!
Stephen – nice post; sorry to come to it late. I do agree that it feels like someth9ing is changing. It’s great to feel that our collective shouts at the TV screen can actually have an effect.
Stephen Fry’s ponderings on whether to leave Twitter are headline news, for goodness’ sake.
Yes, I picked up on that yesterday – and tweeted to the effect that I hoped Fry would change his mind. But I gather that the guy whose comment prompted Fry to consider leaving Twitter was then subjected to a barrage of criticism and abuse. That I suppose is the very dark downside of this type of social media.
Nick Cohen takes up the theme in today’s Observer. He makes several valid points though I still think he doesn’t give enough weight to the potential advantages of easier engagement with current issues.
Apparently, Mr. Fry has now apologized to the follower who called him “boring”, and attributes his earlier response to mood and weather.
As a person who can be occasionally moody, sardonic, and blunt, I think it’s wise to stay away from a Twitter account. I can still read the amusing tweets of Stephen Fry and Dr. Thrall to Axolotls (Croxolotls?) periodically, without running the risk of accidentally offending someone. Plenty of opportunity for the latter IRL.
Yes, Kristi. I use twitter to post links for my blog’s minifeed, and to follow publishers and a few people of interest (to me) who also post links to things. I don’t use it for “conversation” – or if I do, I do that via DM. I just don’t want to have a conversation with someone that can be observed by everyone else on twitter, call me strange. (And there is all the potential for getting sucked into arguments, misunderstandings, impulsive comments, etc).
There are dark sides to twitter – as I mentioned at Frank’s blog post, I heard about how governments in repressive regimes are using Twitter and other social media to follow and curtail opponents. And a few others have been mentoined here.
I’ve also begun to note a meta-effect, for example there’s an article in the Guardian (I think – maybe the Observer, they are branded the same on Twitter;-) ) about the Moir story — in which Scott Pack claims credit for it (though he is gracious enough to co-credit Mr Booker). I think this heralds a new kind of Twitter snobbery – “I may not have as many followers as you [Stephen Fry etc] but my followers are so influential that when I tweet about subject x, it is my tweet that is the most influential tweet.
But yes, it’s definitely becoming part of life’s rich tapestry, albeit a somewhat fleeting, roving, superficial one (I still maintain).
There are dark sides to twitter – as I mentioned at Frank’s blog post, I heard about how governments in repressive regimes are using Twitter and other social media to follow and curtail opponents. And a few others have been mentoined here
Maxine – I think you’ve read much literature.
I took a Twitter break, because I have nothing of value to say lately. I deleted all the Tweets I had, and actually originally wanted to just delete the account, but there was a picture of a crying bird on the “delete your account” page and it was too sad. But when lists were rolled out a few days ago, several people actually added me to a list. Which just shows that not even everyone noticed I was gone.
I’ll be back eventually. I just felt very awkward being put in certain categories, and having people follow me because they think I tweet about science/bio/whatever, when I’m really not doing anything interesting these days and would only be complaining all the time.