Politicians are right to focus on the role of Big Tech in the Christchurch atrocity
Kai Schwoerer/Getty Images
In the wake of the terrorist atrocity in Christchurch New Zealand, and the flailing and blaming that has followed, I was reminded of a small incident at the University of Otago in Dunedin, somewhat south of Christchurch, which I attended in the 1980s. The first time I poked my nose into student politics, I found a small group of activists sitting in a sunny room munching their sandwiches. They were arguing about how best to express their indignation at Russia having shot down an aeroplane that had strayed into its airspace. One group of students wanted the Student Union to send a stiff message to Russia condemning its actions. But another group was loathe to single out Russia. They proposed that the Union condemn all countries which shoot down aeroplanes. Someone else wondered why we should single out aeroplanes. Why not condemn all shootings? So someone else said what about condemning all violence? I think the debate stopped before anyone broadened it further to suggest condemning any kind of meanness. But it was the 1980s and that was still to come.
Many years later I came across the term, Ockham’s Razor. What William of Ockham supposedly said was “Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem”, roughly translating as “More things should not be used than are necessary”. The application to the tragedy in Christchurch is that in seeking to react to it we should not engage in “blame dissipation”. And we should not shift too much of our focus, too soon, towards “wider causes” that also need addressing. This risks a dissipation of effort and mistaking virtuous intent for action. Instead we should focus as closely as we can on the most immediate causes and try to tackle them.
That is why I disagree with Charlotte Henry’s approach when she writes in these pages that in the days after the tragedy, politicians’ calls for action from Big Tech left her cold. For example, she argues that politicians need to “loudly and proudly” make the case for multiculturalism. She says “they need to stop shuffling in embarrassment when people talk about immigration and explain why it is good for the country.” These may be good things, but they risk shifting focus too quickly and too far from immediate root causes. In this case, a violent individual was full of hatred and had access to semi-automatic weapons. His hatred was nurtured and amplified and still lives on via Big Tech platforms.
Following the atrocity, it took less than a week for New Zealand’s Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardem, to announce that semi-automatic weapons will be banned. Ms Ardern announced that she expected new legislation to be in place in April, saying: “Our history changed forever. Now, our laws will too.”
Ardern has been universally praised for her decisiveness and focus. If only we could act as decisively on the role played by Big Tech platforms. Alas it is far more difficult. The Christchurch attack was live-streamed on Facebook, re-posted onto YouTube, and was being discussed on Reddit before any of these platforms had reacted. But this was the tip of an iceberg. According to a CNN editorial, the killer’s so-called manifesto was “laced with internet in-jokes, references and memes [underlining how] many white supremacists are radicalized by socializing with each other online”. An article in Wired outlines a whole host of complexities associated with moderating violent content, concluding that perhaps the main platforms have grown “too big to moderate”. Nevertheless the goal and focus should remain, and if anything, politicians should get far more serious about it.
When I was a child growing up in New Zealand every farmer had guns. We used them mostly to control the possums that ate the native birds. It never crossed my mind until last week that semi-automatic weapons were also allowed in New Zealand. It seems crazy that they were – a freedom we could have done without. Last week my daughter asked me if she could buy her friend a “best friend” necklace off Amazon. With Amazon “in the house” (another freedom I could do without) it is hard to say no. As we scrolled through the saccharine offerings she pointed one out to me. It was a heart that said “best fucking bitches” (£8.99). When I was a child I never saw those words in print. I never saw a nasty image except in one place. There was one book in the house that had a small number of appalling images from the second world war. We were all careful never to look casually at those pages in that book. They contained images that should have no place in the world. We forget how the world has changed so dramatically so quickly. Now, via the internet, I see vile verbal abuse and tragic images frequently, even while making a serious effort not to. Yet I know that what I see represents just a tiny fraction of what’s out there.
The internet contains corners of vileness and hate that most of us would never want to see or think about. But this vileness captures the imagination of a small number of people who go on to do appalling harm. I would accept some limitations on my freedom to help prevent further tragedies. I want politicians and Big Tech companies to pick up Ockham’s Razor and focus closely and relentlessly on cleaning up our tech platforms.
