On three occasions during my ‘career’ as an online critic and avenging angel I have deliberately pulled back from castigating a ‘target’.

In all three cases, I became concerned at what appeared to me to be the real possibility that the person whose actions and modus operandi I was criticising might do themselves physical harm as a result of the stress they were experiencing in response to my criticism.

In one case, a report reached me of an ugly and violent outburst of anger (including punching a hole in an office wall) at reading one of my columns. In another, it became clear to me from online responses that a property spruiker was not coping with having his dishonest marketing methods picked apart by me and his long trail of broken promises laid out for the world to see in all their shabby disingenuousness.

I had long ago reached the conclusion that I never want my words to be the final straw, the thing that impelled someone ‘over the edge’.

This may be a fine point, but it’s also been my deliberate practice to try to focus my criticisms on people’s hyperbolic marketing claims, on their demonstrable deceit and examples of gross hypocrisy and, most of all, on their actions — not so much on their character. But there’s no getting away from the fact that a pattern of behaviour does actually speak of someone’s character, in the end.

See? Even Cameron Slater appreciates a bit of castigation now and then. I had, of course, believed lies.

I mentioned before, in my response to Dirty Politics (here) that by one of those strange coincidences that make life such a rich tapestry, I had the … erm, interesting experience of reading some pages of Cameron Slater’s [allegedly hacked] Facebook messages to and from someone whom Nicky Hager described as Slater’s “trusted friend” (see right) – conversations wherein Slater expressed his displeasure and annoyance at being subject to criticism by me on this blog.

Now, sure, some of the language regarding moi was colourful, and some of it expressed a desire, if not a determination, to do me violence – but it doesn’t read to me as if Slater was in any real way driven to despair by my ‘castigation’ – not in the same way that the people I’ve just discussed above were.

It’s been evident to some of us for quite a while that Cameron Slater lives in a fantasy world. He often expresses himself as if he were some kind of hard-boiled tough guy with much more influence, potential, and day to day efficacy than he actually possesses. So to consider myself ‘at risk’ of physical violence from him seems a joke really. Indeed, whenever we run into each other, the conversation between us is invariably civil – and I expect it always will be, despite what he might say in the privacy (cough) of his Facebook conversations with “trusted friends”. Don’t be alarmed by this next statement: I think we have some things in common. (And that’s why I’ve accepted Cameron and Regan’s kind offer of the position of editor of Freed … nah, just joking!)

Oh, Cameron. * wince* (source: Whaledump via Claire Trevett)

But is such online castigation ‘harmful’?

I’ve had a reason in the last few weeks to consider these and other aspects of “harmful digital communications” in relation to online criticism and truth-telling. I’ve also been considering again the mechanics of the nasty underground smear campaigns and “hit jobs” on public health scientists and campaigners apparently organised as part of the ongoing mercenary dirty PR operation Carrick Graham conducted through ghostwritten articles on Cameron Slater’s attack blog. (Still conducts? Probably. Sounds like it)

On Twitter the other night someone suggested that any online comment that caused “distress” to someone – whether true or not – could be caught under the definition of “harmful” communication in legislation due to pass through Parliament next week. It remains to be seen what the final form of the New Zealand legislation will be, particularly the ‘criminal offences’ parts, but people whose judgement I trust seem worried about restrictions on free speech and criticism.  Continue reading →