Like many things enabled in the idealistic early days of Web 2.0, the opportunity for public responses to mainstream journalism via the comments section wasn’t a bad idea to begin with. But under the particular business model of left-leaning newspapers like the one where I worked in the 2010s, comment sections became a battleground in the emerging ‘culture war’.
Let’s start with the headlines. Headlines meant clicks – not necessarily from viewers who would go on to read the whole thing, but whose clicks alone boosted ad revenue. So headlines became attention-grabbing and outrage courting ‘clickbait’ – often at the expense of accurately summarising the article’s argument. A recurring protest from weary writers to aggrieved readers emerged in the comments: ‘I didn’t write the headline!’
Headlines, often detached from their accompanying article, would be shared on social media devoid of any of the context present in the article itself. Responses, both on social media and ‘below the line’ in the comments, were frequently made to the headline only. This dynamic contributed to the erasure of context and lack of space for nuanced explanation that now typifies a majority of online ‘debate’. Over time, fact-checked research and grounded argument gave way to quick-fire hot takes, fuelled by the acceleration of the news cycle itself and its relentless pursuit of the next talking-point.
Clicks on a headline, in turn, meant comments – directed at the author, the newspaper, readers in general and each other. It became clear at the paper where I worked that particular comment pieces were being linked elsewhere, leading to the section being brigaded by hostile interventions from an audience we’d now perhaps describe as the ‘anti woke’.
Culture creep
Most of us now know about the organised alt-right, propaganda networks and paid ‘influencers’ in the service of global reactionary currents. That was not the case ten years ago. But it was obvious enough at the time that comments were beginning to coalesce around certain dubious themes: ‘no-go areas’ in Britain’s major cities; milquetoast centrist politicians as ravening communists coming for your money; sinister postmodern theorists enacting ‘state capture’ of universities in order to, somehow, come for your daughters or sons. Any article, however frivolous or innocuous, could be accorded a place in an ominous conspiracy.
The writers whose articles bore the brunt of these responses were those whose work was feminist, anti-racist or otherwise progressive. Writers were often encouraged to ‘drive engagement’ below the line by responding to commenters, with little duty of care or support offered to those writing on contentious topics in which they had a personal stake.
‘Below the line’ became a faith player versus player arena whose purpose was point and advancing one scoring s agenda It felt tedious at best toxic at worst
Among commenters themselves, below the line became a bad-faith player versus player arena whose purpose was point-scoring and advancing one’s agenda, rather than a spontaneous reaction to the article or genuine exchange of views. It felt tedious at best, toxic at worst.
Now, as culture wars have replaced material issues as the basis of political arguments, social media platforms have been happy to monetise alt-right content. Ever more mainstream politicians and publications routinely reference racist tropes like ‘the great replacement’ or drop in antisemitic dog-whistles like ‘cultural Marxism’. What was below the line is, increasingly, above it.
