What I will tell you is clear to me. I will tell it firsthand because I deal with it on a daily basis, but it is a recurring and widespread plague that ends up affecting us all. It is, in short, a contemporary censorship mechanism that plagues many of us.
The thing is like this: every text I publish in EL PAÍS or in the Argentine newspaper The nation I upload it to social networks and digital platforms to expand its reach. But it has become a constant: I publish the material, I update the page and there are already those who have clicked “like” – on a text they have not yet read -, others have criticized it without even having read it, and those who have already insulted me. It doesn’t matter the time: there will always be someone willing to insult, as will also happen with this column on Instagram, X, Facebook and other networks.
I also usually attend speeches and conferences, and when the audience asks questions, two are usually repeated: “What happened to the Panamanian documents“, asks someone linked to Kirchnerism; “Have you asked Cristina Fernández de Kirchner for a pardon?”, asks a libertarian. In both cases, with a tone that tends to move away from genuine interest in a direct answer and towards fanaticism and reproach, fueled by the false statements that thrive in the digital sphere.
Those who ask, obviously, at least open themselves to the possibility of building a bridge between their own beliefs and external data. They open a loophole for listening, unlike many – perhaps the majority – who have already taken a stand and don’t even bother asking. And there is a step from that closure to the insult, facilitated by the impunity protected by the platforms.
Because it’s not just a matter of misinformation or ignorance. Even the toxicity we breathe responds to disinterest. It matters little what I have investigated about Kirchnerism in the last two decades, about Macrism in the last ten years or about the more recent scandals of mileism, such as the $LIBRA case or the rinses of the National Agency for Disability (Andis). Even the consequences of these investigations matter little because the voracity of a 24-hour news cycle liquefies these antecedents without remorse. They matter little in the tumult of post-truth online. The digital forces want the sentences to reach others and never their own, consecrating a sort of selective impunity.
Therefore, the truth has become an obstacle to the party’s identity. What matters is to consolidate one’s own, ignoring those of others – when they do not declare themselves “enemies” – and to energize the credibility of anyone who questions the versions accepted as truth by our group, raising nuances, doubts or questions. It’s the strategy of ad hominem argument. It is important to demolish the person so that what he informs ceases to have value. This mechanism is not a simple logical fallacy; It is a tool to erode public trust, the basis of the republican system.
It shouldn’t get our attention. After all, we are dealing with heads of state like Donald Trump and Javier Milei who, through their rhetoric or actions, have proclaimed that “we don’t hate journalists enough” or have promoted the delegitimization of the press as a whole, with state and semi-state instruments. And with acolytes who take sentences out of context to denigrate the chosen target, fueling systematic online attacks against those journalists or references or public figures they want to wear down.
We also deal with elusive auctioneers on the internet that we call troll: men and women who attack journalists they don’t know anonymously, based on texts they haven’t read and on topics they don’t know about. But they criticize anyway. In the same way that there are those who, from behind the keyboard, question a Formula 1 driver about his slowness or an actress who faces eating disorders because of her physique.
And that, when the troll They are human. Because networks host more and more automation and fewer people. The cars are already there —robot– who are dedicated to publishing, spreading disinformation and spreading attacks, every day, 24 hours a day. The problem is we who are attacked, who sometimes fall into the trap of responding to these anonymous attacks and end up exacerbating the attackers or, worse, struggling with simple algorithms that generate more than half of the traffic on the Internet.
It happened to me, as it has happened to many. On more than one occasion I have thought about responding to someone who insulted me. And even offer him a coffee, not to engage in a back and forth of expletives, but with the intent of explaining my opinion, discovering the reason for his discomfort and suggesting nuances. And I found myself dedicating irrecoverable minutes of my life to blocking accounts that attack me, and then abandoning the activity and resigning myself to reaping attacks, ignoring them. Because insults are not criticism; They are attempts at censorship due to wear and tear.
Because yes, like many others, I will continue with what I consider relevant: research and reporting. And whoever insults, continue to insult, because the alternative is darkness.
Networks began as a tool that can still be wonderful and that gave us the opportunity to communicate more horizontally, to learn from each other and to grow as a community. But they have become a kind of schoolyard where the bullying and bullies make the rules. These attackers will end up isolating themselves in their own toxic bubble. In the meantime, our duty, as journalists and citizens, is to continue having relevant conversations – the debates that define our future – in the tangible world and also online with whoever they want. And the truth, despite troll, robotinsults and false statements prevail.
Because the truth, it is good to remember in these times, is the fruit of a tireless dialogue between those who do not feel like its exclusive possessors.
