A lot of my research so far is focused on image-based sexual abuse, a form of technology-facilitated sexual violence that can be defined as the creation, distribution, or threat of distribution of someone else’s sexual image with consent. In other words, I did a lot of work on dick pics and revenge porn. When I would talk with friends and family, and even other researchers in the field, about my research, one of the most common responses I would get would be something like: “Oh, I wouldn’t mess with the internet, there’s a lot of nasty people out there. Don’t you worry the trolls will target you?”. Of course, as a woman on the internet, I wasn’t blind to this possibility. I’ve seen the scenario where activists, journalists, researchers, and just normal everyday people, and especially women and trans individuals, queer folks, or people of color, are targeted when they speak up and chased off of online spaces and reminded that the internet is “not for them”. Or as Kimmel put it: “[The internet is] a man cave, a politically incorrect locker room, where you can say whatever you feel like saying without having to back it up with something as inconvenient as evidence and still hide behind a screen of anonymity so that no one knows that you’re the jerk you secretly think you might be. That’s a recipe for rage” (Kimmel, 2013, p. 115). Gender- and sexuality-based harassment refers to any form of unwelcome comments that aim to insult or cause distress to another person because of their gender or sexuality. This type of harassment is by no means something new and exclusive to the cybersphere, but the perceived anonymity and often the mob-like mentality of the internet appears to have breathed new life in it. Forms of gender- and sexuality-based harassment include but are not limited to, threats of sexual violence like rape, hate speech, the use of online discussion boards to promote rape-supportive attitudes, reputation harming lies, and cyber-attacks that shut down blogs and websites (Henry & Powell, 2018; Citron, 2009). Although at first glance instances of harassment online might appear to be isolated or random, anonymous cyber-mobs tend to systematically and disproportionally target women, members of the LGBTQ+, and people of color (Citron, 2009).
This type of harassment is particularly evident in the gaming community. Research has shown that female gamers are more likely to experience abuse or sexual harassment from other players and are more likely to report being called names with sexual meaning (Ballard & Welch, 2017). In addition, a study showed that female voices were more likely to receive negative comments and treatment from the other players (Kuznekoff & Rose, 2013). Perhaps, as a response to this, female players are much more likely to engage in gender masking, an attempt to conceal their true gender identity through the use of male or gender-neutral usernames and avatars (Fox & Tang, 2017). This could indicate that women make decisions, often before they even start playing, to avoid gender-specific harassment (Fox & Tang, 2017). The pervasive gender-specific harassment in the gaming community is exemplified by the event known as #GamerGate (Mortensen, 2018). Some of the main targets of this online harassment campaign were game designer Zoe Quinn, feminist critic Anita Starkesian, game developer Brianna Wu, and actress Felicia Day who all had their personal information and address published online (i.e., they were doxed), and as a result had to receive protection or leave their homes (Mortensen, 2018).
Another form of gender-specific harassment that is becoming increasingly more popular is the posting of misogynistic threads on blogs, forums, and websites such as Incels.me, /r/redpill, the pick-up artist community, etc., that are collectively commonly referred to as the manosphere. Despite some conflicting agendas and tribalism, these groups unify over a common vehement opposition to feminism, a general antagonistic attitude towards women and the use of discourse so hyperbolically misogynistic that it was been dubbed as “Rapeglish” (Jane, 2014). Such discourse is often reframed as “acceptable” and a form of uniquely technologically bound type of humor of little consequence (Drakett et al., 2018). However, it is of great importance to not overlook online misogynistic rhetoric or online harassment, sexual or otherwise, of women and marginalized groups. This is because, similarly to different forms of TFSV, the effects of this form of gender-specific harassment are not restricted to cyberspace. An egregious example of this is the van attack in Toronto on April 23, 2018 (Mehler & Saminather, 2018). Shortly after posting on his Facebook wall the message: “The Incel Rebellion has begun!”, Alek Minassian drove a van through a crowd, killing 10 and injuring 16 (Mehler & Saminather, 2018). It is believed that Minassian was inspired by Elliot Rogers, who stabbed and shot 6 people to death near the UCLA campus, after posting his manifesto online, in which he asserted that his perceived rejection by women was what drove him to his actions (Larkin, 2018).
Alarmingly, such behaviors might be viewed as justifiable by those who perpetuate them. Sexual aggressors often hold beliefs of male dominance, hostility towards women, and rape myths, which skew their world view and serve as a means of legitimizing sexual aggression (Ryan, 2004). Online spaces, like the “manosphere” where such beliefs are common, might act as a forum where online acts of sexual abuse and gender-and sexuality-based harassment are encouraged, justified, and supported, especially in situations where masculinity was perceived to be slighted (DeKeseredy & Schwartz, 2016). For example, in a recent study, after reading a series of scenarios depicting cases of online sexual harassment, male participants attributed most of the responsibility onto the victims, especially when the victim was deemed as “aggressive” in their rejection (Zhong et al., 2020).
Taken together, it appears that gender-specific rhetoric in the form of rape threats and misogynistic discourse is thriving in cyberspace. Generally, online sexual harassment often takes place in public spaces like forums or comment sections of social media accounts where multiple people can read them. Bystanders are central to the dynamic of online harassment, whether they choose to side with the perpetrator, the victim, or remain passive viewers of the incident. Given that many victims are unlikely to report sexual harassment, observers of the harassment may play a key role in putting a stop to future incidents and supporting the victim (Moxey & Bussey, 2019). Taking this into consideration, the involvement of bystanders in the perpetuation of harm becomes significant. Therefore, it’s up to us to stand up to online harassment when we come across it, which could lead to better support for the victims and ultimately a better online experience for many!
- By Vasileia Karasavva
References
Ballard, M. E., & Welch, K. M. (2017). Virtual Warfare: Cyberbullying and Cyber-Victimization in MMOG Play. Games and Culture, 12(5), 466–491. https://doi.org/10.1177/1555412015592473
DeKeseredy, W. S., & Schwartz, M. D. (2016). Thinking Sociologically About Image-Based Sexual Abuse: The Contribution of Male Peer Support Theory. Sexualization, Media, & Society, 2(4), 237462381668469. https://doi.org/10.1177/2374623816684692
Drakett, J., Rickett, B., Day, K., & Milnes, K. (2018). Old jokes, new media – Online sexism and constructions of gender in Internet memes. Feminism & Psychology, 28(1), 109–127. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959353517727560
Fox, J., & Tang, W. Y. (2017). Women’s experiences with general and sexual harassment in online video games: Rumination, organizational responsiveness, withdrawal, and coping strategies. New Media & Society, 19(8), 1290–1307. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444816635778
Henry, N., & Powell, A. (2018). Technology-Facilitated Sexual Violence: A Literature Review of Empirical Research. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 19(2), 195–208. https://doi.org/10.1177/1524838016650189
Jane, E. A. (2014). ‘Back to the kitchen, cunt’: Speaking the unspeakable about online misogyny. Continuum, 28(4), 558–570. https://doi.org/10.1080/10304312.2014.924479
Keats Citron, D. (2009). Law’s Expressive Value in Combating Cyber Gender Harassment. All Faculty Publications, 108.
Kimmel, M. (2013). Angry white men: American masculinity at the end of an era. Hachette UK.
Kuznekoff, J. H., & Rose, L. M. (2013). Communication in multiplayer gaming: Examining player responses to gender cues. New Media & Society, 15(4), 541–556.
Larkin, R. W. (2018). Learning to Be a Rampage Shooter: The Case of Elliot Rodger. In H. Shapiro (Ed.), The Wiley Handbook on Violence in Education (pp. 69–84). John Wiley & Sons, Inc. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118966709.ch4
Your car could be stolen if you don't remember this!
ReplyDeleteImagine that your vehicle was taken! When you approach the police, they inquire about a specific "VIN decoder"
Describe a VIN decoder.
Similar to a passport, the "VIN decoder" allows you to find out when the car was born and who its "parent"( manufacturing plant) is. You can also figure out:
1.Type of engine
2.Automobile model
3.The limitations of the DMV
4.The number of drivers in this vehicle
You will be able to locate the car, and keeping in mind the code ensures your safety. The code can be viewed in the online database. The VIN is situated on various parts of the car to make it harder for thieves to steal, such as the first person seated on the floor, the frame (often in trucks and SUVs), the spar, and other areas.
What happens if the VIN is harmed on purpose?
There are numerous circumstances that can result in VIN damage, but failing to have one will have unpleasant repercussions because it is illegal to intentionally harm a VIN in order to avoid going to jail or calling the police. You could receive a fine of up to 80,000 rubles and spend two years in jail. You might be stopped by an instructor on the road.
Conclusion.
The VIN decoder may help to save your car from theft. But where can you check the car reality? This is why we exist– VIN decoders!