The NEW adventures of the digital vigilante! Facebook users’ views on online naming and shaming

Abstract

Increasingly, digital vigilante activity occurs via social media and can have negative consequences in the broader social world, a phenomenon that can be examined productively through a cultural criminological lens. One example of digital vigilantism is the online naming and shaming of people who are convicted or suspected of crime and subjecting them to embarrassment, harassment, and/or condemnation. To contribute to the prevention of negative impacts of online naming and shaming, this study aimed to better understand Australian Facebook users’ views about – and experiences of participating in – online naming and shaming. Participants (n = 122) were primarily young Tasmanian adults who completed an online qualitative survey. Over one-quarter (26%) of participants reported having liked posts that name and shame a person suspected or convicted of crime, with smaller proportions engaging with these posts by sharing or commenting on them. Whilst Facebook users recognised the potential for online naming and shaming to impede justice, they perceived the practice as appropriate if it would foster community awareness and maintain community welfare. The findings are discussed in light of the roles of Facebook users’ emotions, the social media as a cultural product, and the mediascape in constructing versions of reality. Practical implications of the study include the need for policing and media organisations to consider ways to meet their information needs without inadvertently encouraging acts of digital vigilantism. Overall, this study contributes to increased understanding of digital vigilantism and highlights the integral role of social media as a cultural product.

Keywords

Cultural criminology cultural product cyber-vigilantism emotions digital vigilantism mediascape social media

Introduction – It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s…

With a thirst for justice, the vigilante figure has long captured public imagination (Smallridge, Wagner, & Crowl, 2016). The proliferation of internet technologies has allowed vigilantism to expand into the online space, where the uptake of social media technology has increased the public visibility of certain types of misconduct (Kohm, 2009; Powell, 2015; Wood, Rose, & Thompson, 2018). Digital vigilantism also known as digilantism, internet vigilantism, and cyber-vigilantism (Stratton, Powell, & Cameron, 2016), can be described as a citizen’s reaction to another person’s transgression of social norms (Johnston, 1996) in the online space (Trottier, 2017).¹ It includes naming and shaming, hacktivism, citizen-led cyber-stings, and crowdsourced policing (Smallridge et al., 2016). As one type of digital vigilantism, naming and shaming refers to identifying alleged offenders and subjecting them to embarrassment, harassment, and/or condemnation (Arvanitidis, 2016). Social media users can participate in naming and shaming by liking and sharing content that names and shames people online. In so doing, they may fuel such vigilantism and contribute to its spread (Skoric, 2012; Trottier, 2017). Support for vigilante websites reflects the popular appeal of activity such as online naming and shaming.²

However, media reports have highlighted the potential negative consequences of naming and shaming. For example, the naming and shaming of individuals whose cases are before the courts could lead to unfair trials (Carlton, 2016) or to defamation law suits (Jeans & Leader, 2015). Concerns have been raised about moral obligations when the naming and shaming is of people who are suspected (rather than convicted) of crime. In one example, a Melbourne man was reportedly accused of photographing children, labelled a sexual predator, and had his image shared over 20,000 times on social media. In fact, he had taken a photo of himself with a cardboard Darth Vader for his own children; he handed himself in to police to clear his name (Kovacevic, 2016).

Additional concerns relate specifically to the naming and shaming of convicted sex offenders. For example, ABC News, published: ‘Tasmanian sex offenders named and shamed on social media’. The article reported two potential impacts. First, social media publicity might lead to vigilante attacks against the former sex offenders who had served their time in prison. Second, it suggested that sex offenders may be more likely to reoffend if they are publicly shamed (Little, 2014, as cited in Glumac, 2014). Indeed, a British news article reported that several dangerous sex offenders had gone into hiding in fear of vigilantes, subsequently evading their mandatory police surveillance (Bright, 2000).

To best prevent the negative impacts of online naming and shaming, a need exists for research that first explores public perceptions, experiences, and endorsement of digital vigilantism (Clarke, 1980; Smallridge et al., 2016). This article reports the findings of a study that used a cultural criminological lens (Hayward, 2012) to explore the under-researched issue of online naming and shaming. As background to the study, the article first considers the cultural contexts of vigilantism, digital vigilantism, and the applicability of the cultural criminological lens. With a sample of mostly young, educated Tasmanian participants, the study employed an online qualitative survey to explore Australian Facebook users’ views and experiences of online naming and shaming. Specifically, it aimed to better understand the circumstances under which Facebook users: (1) consider it appropriate to name and shame people who are suspected, or convicted, of a crime; and (2) engage in such online naming and shaming. The findings of the study contribute to a deeper understanding of the practice of naming and shaming within the digital society.

Literature review – Vigilante reborn!

Vigilantism

Despite its presence in an extensive body of literature on US history, the term vigilantism long lacked conceptualisation by criminologists (Johnston, 1996). Johnston (1996) identified six key features of vigilantism as follows: (1) vigilantism involves at least a minimum amount of planning and organisation by the vigilante, therefore self-defence is excluded; (2) vigilantes are private agents who participate voluntarily without an affiliation to a law enforcement organisation; (3) vigilantism is an autonomous act without state support or authority; (4) vigilantism exercises or threatens the use of force and/or violence; (5) vigilantism is a direct response to crime and/or social deviance; and (6) its goal is to achieve personal and/or collective security (Smallridge et al., 2016). Based on these features, Johnston (1996) defined vigilantism as follows:

Vigilantism is a social movement giving rise to premeditated acts of force—or threatened force—by autonomous citizens. It arises as a reaction to the transgression of institutionalized norms by individuals or groups —or to their potential or imputed transgression. Such acts are focused upon crime control and/or social control and aim to offer assurances (or ‘guarantees’) of security both to participants and to other members of a given established order. (p. 232)

Many scholars have adopted Johnston’s definition (Smallridge et al., 2016). Additionally, scholars have noted that whilst acts of vigilantism can be illegal or legal, vigilantism per se is not deemed a crime (Johnston, 1996; Smallridge et al., 2016).

Historical context of vigilantism

Historical accounts in the United States have tended to support vigilantism, characterising it as a positive facet of American history. For example, Friedman’s (1985) study traces use of the term back to South Carolina in 1767, when a group of Frontiersmen formed the vigilante group, The Regulators. The men were committed to restoring order in the aftermath of local wars (Friedman, 1985; Wills, 2002). Similarly, Dimsdale (1866/2003) gives a first-hand account in The Vigilantes of Montana, justifying vigilante activities in the 1860s:

Is it lawful for citizens to slay robbers or murderers, when they catch them; or ought they to wait for policemen, where there are none, or put them in penitentiaries not yet erected? …Justice, and protection from wrong to person or property, are the birthright of every American citizen. (p. 16)

According to Brown (1975, p. 126), vigilantism was seen as necessary and was supported by the ‘American elite’ (statesman, politicians, capitalists, lawyers, judges, and writers), not only for re-establishing community order and values, but also for dealing with crime and disorder. While little is written about the history of vigilantism in Australia, its presence is suggested in Serle’s (1977) work about Victoria during the 1850’s gold rush. This early support for vigilantism is reflected in contemporary themes from popular culture.

Vigilantism in popular culture

The vigilante film genre gives rise to debate over the ‘strength and purpose of law’ (Rafter, 2006, p. 156). It portrays individuals who seek retribution and take law into their own hands. One such film, Death Wish (De Laurentiis, Landers, Roberts, & Winner, 1974), tells the story of a vigilante, Paul Kersey, who goes on a killing spree after the murder of his wife, to clean up the mean streets of New York City. A remake of the film is due for release in 2018. More recent films that align with the vigilante film genre include: John Wick, The Equalizer, and Harry Brown, which portray characters who embody the vigilante ideal.

Relatedly, vigilantism has been widely depicted in the comic book industry. Scully and Moorman (2014) point out that the growing acceptance of vigilantism in society corresponds with the rise in comic book vigilante heroes. In the 1983 DC Comics series, Vigilante, the protagonist adopts a life of fighting crime after his family are killed (Scully & Moorman, 2014). Similarly, Dubose (2007) gives the example of Batman, a vigilante fighting crime on the streets of Gotham City. The rise of US vigilante comic book heroes in the 1980s related to fear and anger directed at the criminal justice system, which many Americans believed was failing to prosecute criminals and keep the streets safe (Dubose, 2007; Scully & Moorman, 2014). Although many superhero films are set in the United States, they also dominate the Australian box office. Four comic book films were represented in Australia’s top 10 highest grossing films of 2016: Deadpool, Suicide Squad, Captain America: Civil War, and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (Johnson, 2016). The presence of the vigilante in the context of popular culture may indicate broad acceptance of certain ideas associated with vigilantism.

Digital vigilantism

Using the term cyber-vigilantism, Smallridge et al. (2016) conceptualised it by drawing from Johnston’s (1996) framework. They agreed with Johnston’s first feature, that vigilantism involves planning and consequently acts of self-defence do not count. However, they disagreed with Johnston’s second feature, namely that vigilantes are private agents, because members of law enforcement organisations as well as private citizens could participate anonymously in digital vigilantism. Smallridge et al. (2016) also disagreed with Johnston’s fourth element that vigilantism exercises or threatens the use of force, as this element cannot be transferred easily to the online context. They argued that whilst physical violence could occur in the real world as a by-product, it was not a necessary element of cyber-vigilantism (Smallridge et al., 2016).

Trottier (2017) used the term digital vigilantism, regarding it as citizens’ use of domesticated technologies to assist in a new form of criminal justice. This approach to justice explicitly involves visibility. For example, ‘the target’s home address, work details and other highly sensitive details are published on a public site (“doxing”), followed by online as well as embodied harassment’ (Trottier, 2017, p. 55). This example recognises the blurred distinction between on- and off-line social worlds. Trottier (2017) argued that online vigilantism complicates the role of policing. It has led to privacy violations and breaches in fundamental human rights (Trottier, 2017). A key feature of digital vigilantism is its perceived lawlessness, as the internet has become a space for taking justice into one’s hands without legal authority. Consequently, the lawlessness of the electronic frontier has been likened to that of the American Old West (McLure, 2000, p. 463).

The mediascape and naming and shaming

Coined by Appadurai (1996, p. 35), the mediascape refers to ‘the distribution of the electronic capabilities to produce and disseminate information…and the images of the world created by the media’. Hayward (2010) described it as the way the media constructs versions of reality. The desire for renewed law and order can be seen in mediated naming and shaming. For example, in the American tabloid investigative news programme, To Catch a Predator, alleged paedophiles were tracked down and subjected to a barrage of humiliating questions (Kohm, 2009). The programme became shrouded in controversy, after one of the alleged predators committed suicide (Kohm, 2009). While shame may be a positive force when used to reintegrate offenders into society (Braithwaite, 1989), mass-mediated humiliation reflects the use of shame as a stigmatising and destructive force (Kohm, 2009). Proponents of vigilantism may justify the use of shame and stigma to achieve greater law and order.

While limited research has explored online naming and shaming, several insights can be drawn from extant studies. For example, in one study, De Vries (2015) held six focus groups to document university students’ perceptions about the experience of being shamed or shaming others online. She aimed to establish whether posting embarrassing photos or videos constituted a form of cyber-bullying. Overall, the students reported the perception that certain actions invited public and online attention to encourage behaviour modification (De Vries, 2015). Although the study focused on ‘silly’ or ‘poor’ behaviour, rather than criminal behaviour, it highlights an important consideration for how disapproval is shown in the digital society.

In a Canadian case study of online naming and shaming, Arvanitidis (2016) explored the aftermath of the 2011 Vancouver Stanley Cup Riots. The riots broke out after the Boston Bruins ice hockey team defeated the Vancouver Canucks. Facebook vigilantes named and shamed individuals, including several young offenders, who took part in the riots. A 17-year-old, Nathan Kotylak, was named in response to an image posted online, in which he could be seen attempting to set fire to a police car (Arvanitidis, 2016). Kotylak’s full name and home address were published online, reflecting Trottier’s (2017) notion of visibility, and leading to a need for the young man and his family to flee their home (Arvanitidis, 2016).

While naming and shaming can be motivated by public dissatisfaction with the criminal justice system, in this case, it was also described as a method of ‘crowdsourced policing’ (Arvanitidis, 2016, p. 23). Facebook groups were used to encourage the posting of images of rioters and other incriminating evidence (Arvanitidis, 2016). Naming and shaming of young people contravenes Canada’s Youth Criminal Justice Act, which bans the publication of the names and details of youth offenders or victims to prevent them from the harm of stigmatisation. Arvanitidis (2016, p. 23) highlighted that naming and shaming is like convicting and sentencing an individual to ‘life in a virtual jail – one with no rules, regulations, or protection from abuse’. Although online vigilantes may ordinarily be law-abiding members of the public, their anonymous engagement in the online space allows them to push the boundaries (Arvanitidis, 2016).

Cultural criminology

Owing to its focus on language, representations, and media, cultural criminology offers a valuable lens through which to explore public understandings of digital vigilantism (Phillips & Strobl, 2006). Cultural criminology seeks to explore factors such as language, representations, and media culture (Hayward, 2012); it considers the transgression of boundaries and the associated emotions and personal meanings (Hayward, 2016). A cultural criminological approach addresses the internet as a cultural product or creative construct (Hayward, 2008). The focus on emotions may also contribute to understanding what drives online naming and shaming (Ferrell, 2013).

While critics argue that cultural criminology is not a unified perspective and lacks a precise definition for culture (Ugwudike, 2015), cultural criminologists counter that the perspective is open to fresh ideas; it challenges traditional criminology. As an innovative perspective that aims to make sense of representation, cultural criminology is especially relevant in the digital era (Ferrell, Hayward, & Young, 2008). Hayward (2012) observed that researchers had focused on identifying various forms of cybercrime and developing new processes to stop it through regulations, laws, policing, and computer forensics. He noted that little consideration had been given to how the internet is an expanding cultural product which ‘human beings use and abuse’ (Hayward, 2012, p. 455). Offering the potential for unique understandings about the relationship between space and crime, Hayward (2012) suggested five new spaces for cultural criminology. One such space is the virtual/networked space, which scholars increasingly view as being embedded into social, political, and professional life in a ‘digital society’ (Stratton et al., 2016). This study explores public perceptions and experiences of online naming and shaming, contributing to the body of research on the digital society using a cultural criminological lens.

Methodology – The weapon of choice

This study was approved by the Tasmania Social Sciences Human Research Ethics Committee. While most commonly associated with an ethnographic methodology, Hayward (2016) highlights the applicability of a range of research techniques to make links between shared meanings and experiences within a cultural criminological framework. A qualitative survey was appropriate to generate a broad range of views from members of the public about online naming and shaming (Fink, 2003). Using an online survey made it possible to obtain a voluntary and anonymous participant sample, a proportion of whom reported having participated in online naming and shaming.

Sampling and participants

The survey was advertised via a dedicated Facebook page, email invitations, online student forums, and posters distributed around the University of Tasmania. Participants were invited to share the survey link with other potential participants. As an incentive, participants could enter a draw to win one of five $25 gift cards (via a separate link). Of 177 surveys received during a six-week survey period, 3% (n = 6) did not meet eligibility criteria and 28% (n = 49) were incomplete, resulting in a sample of 122 eligible and completed surveys.

Almost two-thirds of participants (65%) were aged 18–24 years (n = 79), with fewer in other age groups: 25–34 years (n = 23), 35–44 years (n = 2), 45–54 years (n = 4), 55–64 years (n = 12), and 65–74 years (n = 2). Most participants (n = 98; 80%) currently resided in Tasmania, with the remainder of participants drawn from other parts of Australia. The majority (75%) were female, 21% were male, and 4% self-described or preferred not to specify. English was the first language of 90% of participants. Almost half (47%) had a university qualification, with current university students accounting for two-thirds (66%; n = 81) of the sample. Of current students, a small proportion specified their major field of study as Criminology (11%) or Law (2%).

Materials

The 15–30 minute survey was hosted on Survey Monkey and comprised 11 free-response questions and 24 multi-choice questions. Participants completed eligibility questions and then proceeded to three main parts of the survey (outlined below). Following completion of these parts, participants provided basic demographic data and had the option of providing feedback.

Part 1: Acceptability of naming and shaming. Participants were provided with brief definitions of ‘suspected person’ and ‘convicted person’. They then viewed a list of 15 crime types drawn from the Australian and New Zealand Standard Offence Classification (Pink, 2011, see Table 1). Participants were asked to select one or more crimes for which they considered it appropriate (and inappropriate) to name and shame a suspected (and convicted) person. Options were randomised to avoid response-order bias (Zikmund & Babin, 2013).

Table 1.

Percentage of participants who selected each crime type as ‘appropriate’ and ‘unacceptable’ for naming and shaming by conviction status (N = 122).

	Convicted		Suspected
Crime type^a	Appropriate% (n)	Unacceptable% (n)	Appropriate% (n)	Unacceptable% (n)
Abuse/neglect of a child/person in one’s care	66 (80)	20 (24)	27 (33)	54 (66)
Animal cruelty	72 (88)	12 (15)	34 (42)	46 (56)
Assault	37 (82)	12 (15)	31 (38)	51 (62)
Dangerous driving	39 (48)	23 (28)	22 (27)	49 (60)
Disorderly or offensive conduct in public	37 (45)	34 (42)	20 (24)	60 (73)
Drug dealing	47 (57)	25 (30)	16 (20)	58 (71)
Drug possession or use	26 (32)	43 (53)	12 (15)	65 (79)
Fraud	55 (67)	14 (17)	20 (25)	52 (63)
Harassment	57 (70)	14 (17)	25 (31)	55 (67)
Household burglary	45 (55)	17 (21)	19 (23)	52 (63)
Other property theft	34 (42)	22 (27)	14 (17)	52 (63)
Property damage	35 (43)	21 (26)	20 (24)	50 (61)
Sexual assault	75 (92)	16 (19)	32 (39)	57 (70)
Shoplifting	39 (47)	29 (35)	18 (22)	57 (70)
Traffic infringements and parking offences	16 (19)	66 (81)	8 (10)	72 (88)
Other (please specify)^b	11 (13)	4 (5)	6 (7)	5 (6)
All of the above	0 (0)	4 (5)	0 (0)	8 (10)
None	11 (13)	9 (11)	40 (49)	2 (2)
Total responses selected	(893)	(471)	(446)	(1,030)

^aCrimes are listed alphabetically here; however, crime lists were randomised for each participant for each of the four questions. Participants were able to select one or more crime type.

^bResponses that did not fit into the above categories have been grouped under ‘other’.

Part 2: Acceptability of naming and shaming in response to scenarios. For each of three scenarios, participants were asked to indicate on a scale the acceptability of specific online behaviours (e.g. posting, commenting, liking, and sharing) and to provide an explanation for their response.

Scenario 1. You are running late for an important meeting and struggling to find a spot in a busy car park. Finally, you notice a space; however, as you drive closer you realise that a silver hatchback car has parked over two parking spaces. Frustrated, you take a photo of the car (with the vehicle registration plates in clear view).

Scenario 2. A video is being circulated on Facebook. It shows a group of teenagers surrounding a passenger on a busy train. The teenagers, who are wearing school uniforms, can be heard swearing loudly at the passenger. Onlookers seen in the video include children and elderly people. A post on Facebook asks for help in identifying the teenagers.

Scenario 3. You have been informed that a person who was convicted of a serious violent crime has just been released from prison and is living somewhere in your neighbourhood. On Facebook, a post identifies the convicted person and their home address for other Facebook users to see. You are relieved to find out that the convicted person is not living in your street, but you are still concerned for the welfare of other community members.

Part 3: Understandings of naming and shaming. Participants were asked if they were familiar with the term naming and shaming. They were then asked to elaborate on their own understanding and views about naming and shaming on Facebook.

Data analysis

The main window into participants’ views was through inductive thematic analysis of open-ended questions (Willis, 2013). Each response was coded before grouping similar codes together to form themes. For responses to questions that allowed participants to select multiple options, frequencies were obtained to provide a sense of the extent to which a perception or experience was shared (Toerien & Wilkinson, 2004, p. 73). Five key themes were developed: community awareness and welfare, severity of crime, assisting in crime fighting, nuanced circumstances, and acknowledgement and affiliation. Quotes that best reflected participants’ comments were selected. For clarity, minor corrections were made to grammar.

Results – vigilante unmasked!

Before presenting the five key themes in order of their prevalence, key frequencies are noted. Overall, participants’ responses indicated that the majority (92%) were familiar with ‘naming and shaming’. Corresponding responses demonstrated understanding of the practice: ‘putting people’s name/face on Facebook and accusing them of an action they (may) have committed which is mostly unacceptable to the general public’ (P73). Notably, over half of the participants (55%) in this study reported that they did not endorse the online naming and shaming of people suspected or convicted of crime. Participants described the practice as ‘ridiculous’ (P120), ‘wrong’ (P89), ‘abhorrent’ (P31), and ‘lame’ (P41). To explain their reasons for disagreeing with the practice, some participants referred to moral concerns: ‘…people should not be so quick to cast the first stone, it is endemic of social media…’ (P106). Others referred to practical consequences: ‘…naming and shaming can kill a business and scar the proprietors for life…I think legislation is urgently required to manage this social issue’ (P116).

However, despite these misgivings, a substantial proportion of participants held a view that naming and shaming had value in certain circumstances. Indeed, over one-quarter (26%) of participants reported having liked content that named someone who had been suspected of or convicted of a crime. Smaller, but nonetheless substantial groups recalled having shared (11%), or commented on (11%) such posts. In all, 3% reported having made a post that specifically named and shamed someone on Facebook who was either suspected or convicted of a crime.

Community awareness and welfare

Over one-quarter of participants’ (27%) responses argued that naming or sharing and liking content can be appropriate to foster community awareness and maintain community welfare: ‘Facebook has become a first point of reference for many of us and I think it is important to be kept in the loop with regard to crimes…’ (P119). A few participants also stressed the importance warning the community about sexual offenders: ‘…people should be aware of convicted paedophiles or child abductors for the safety of their children’ (P53). However, two participants provided a caveat, acknowledging the victim: ‘anything that breaches privacy of a victim is not appropriate’ (P78).

Participants who supported the practice reported that the awareness generated by Facebook made online naming a form of public shaming: ‘retribution – if the crime happened to you or someone who you know’ (P111). For another participant, reflecting De Vries’ (2015) findings, it could act as a mirror to the shamed person: ‘life lesson for those who had their names posted’ (P58). In contrast, others reported that increased community awareness might have downsides: ‘it generates a lot of unnecessary, and perhaps unfair, public outrage’ (P102) and ‘could incite witch hunts; people taking justice into own hands’ (P15).

Of the 42 participants who reported participating in naming and shaming, over one-third (38%) stressed the importance of warning other people of potential dangers by promoting relevant Facebook posts. One participant stated: ‘a man convicted of sexually assaulting my friend was released from jail after one year. He was very capable of committing this crime again…’ (P38). Such a response reflects the use of Facebook to keep people safe. Thus, naming and shaming was a justifiable practice that reflected a moral obligation for those with a sense of social responsibility.

Severity of crime

Participants’ endorsement of the acceptability of naming and shaming a person depended upon both the conviction status of the person and the seriousness of the crime (see Table 1). For convicted persons, the most commonly selected crimes for which participants deemed naming and shaming appropriate were sexual assault (75%), animal cruelty (72%), assault (67%), and abuse or neglect of a child or person in one’s care (66%). Only 11% of responses suggested that naming and shaming convicted offenders was inappropriate for any crime. By contrast, when the crimes involved suspected individuals, 40% of respondents stated that naming and shaming was inappropriate for any crime. Others endorsed the same list of serious crimes, but at lower rates. Participants who endorsed naming and shaming emphasised that it was appropriate because the crime was serious.

Regarding the scenario involving a double-parked car, many participants emphasised that it reflected a very minor offence, and therefore it would not warrant any Facebook backlash. For the scenario about a person convicted of a serious crime moving to the neighbourhood, participants emphasised the severity of crime. According to some participants their response would depend largely on the crime type: ‘really on the fence with this one, it would depend on the crime…’ (P3) and ‘…sex offence or violent crimes I think people have the right to know’ (P10). Finally, one participant suggested that crime type was indicative of whether an offender is likely to reoffend: ‘… to my mind a rapist or child abuser is probably more likely to re-offend but someone that killed their husband or wife is less likely to re-offend…’ (P60).

A smaller proportion of participants (15%) considered that regardless of conviction status, it was generally acceptable to name and shame in such a scenario due to the severity of crime. One participant expressed this by stating: ‘people deserve to feel safe. If that person has been convicted of crimes involving assault, abuse, rape etc. then people will not feel safe’ (P74). Another participant acknowledged that personal experience influenced the stance taken:

I know it is wrong to share someone’s address, no matter what they have done. My judgement is clouded though, as a physical and sexual assault survivor I can’t help but want to know who is near me, so I feel safe. (P22)

However, whilst naming and shaming was typically deemed more appropriate for serious crimes, for less serious crimes it was more likely to be deemed inappropriate: ‘they may have committed a single less serious offence are actively trying to move on’ (P65).

Assisting the criminal justice system

A small proportion of participants (14%) believed that naming or sharing and liking content was only appropriate after conviction because it could obscure the course of a fair trial and justice. Accordingly, several participants commented: ‘innocent until proven guilty’. Others suggested: ‘only when convicted. Otherwise obstructing justice and giving the person accused an unfair trial and potential bias’ (P2). Another commented: ‘if a conviction has been given and they were found guilty, then I don't see a problem with it’ (P49).

Some participants (8%) believed that deciding whether it is appropriate to name and shame was based on the credibility of that source. The media and the police were typically viewed as credible sources: ‘…I feel like the names should be released by a reputable source such as state police departments’ (P5) and ‘when police ask for the public’s help…’ (P7). Indeed, of the 42 participants who reported that they had participated in naming and shaming, some (12%) justified their action by saying that the police had originally published the posts: ‘mostly TAS Police Facebook posts…’ (P15). Other participants were prompted by a desire to assist the police: ‘to assist crime stoppers and help the victims’ (P49). While some participants reported the belief that naming and shaming offered a means to assist the police by spreading the word, a small proportion recognised that it could lead to the ‘obstruction of justice’ (P52). One participant stated: ‘it may influence people who want their name to be known to commit a crime’ (P81). Additionally, in contrast to wanting to assist the justice system, a few participants referred to a lack of faith in it to justify naming and shaming. For example, in relation to an animal cruelty case, one participant stated: ‘when the current criminal justice system is lacking in response and policy change is desired by society – such as the case of Cecil the Lion [where an American hunter] killed without reprimand’ (P68).

Reflecting concerns reported by media sources (e.g. Glumac, 2014), approximately half of the participants (51%) were concerned about the potential for a counterproductive impact of naming and shaming on the convicted or suspected person: ‘damages the person’s reputation and self-worth and decreases the chance of rehabilitation’ (P48). Similarly, another participant commented: ‘the public shaming could lead to isolation which could result in further anti-social behaviour’ (P46). Likewise, for the scenario about a person convicted of a serious crime moving into the neighbourhood, approximately half (49%) of the responses discussed the impact that Facebook naming and shaming could have on the rehabilitated offender: ‘…if they are rehabilitated to the point of parole then they deserve a chance at a normal life’ (P26). Conversely, for the scenario about circulating a video of teenagers swearing at a passenger on public transport, two-fifths (40%) of participants suggested that the complaint ‘needs to go through proper routes of justice…’ (P2), which for the teenagers was seen to be via contacting the police or the school.

Nuanced circumstances

Just over two-fifths of the participants’ (43%) indicated that the appropriateness of naming and shaming was nuanced. For example, one participant stated: ‘I think there is a time and place for naming and shaming…’ (P71). In the scenario of the double-parked car, almost one-quarter (24%) of responses reflected a view that naming and shaming was acceptable. One participant stated: ‘I don’t see any directed, personal malice in such a scenario…’ (P56). Others (20%), however, argued that it was important to consider the driver of the car: ‘…maybe they were elderly, with little time left for such independence in their mobility. Maybe they’re just having a bad day…’ (P116). Another participant felt that it would be acceptable only if the licence plate had been blurred.

For the scenario about a video of teenagers swearing at a passenger on public transport, just under one-quarter (23%) of respondents were concerned with the age of the individuals in the scenario: ‘inappropriate because in teen life people tend to do many mistakes…’ (P96). Regarding the scenario where a person convicted of a serious crime was moving to the neighbourhood, some participants stressed that their response would be based on the circumstance: ‘a bit torn again… if the offender was someone who’s “likely” to offend again (e.g. Adrian Bailey), I would definitely like to know he was in the neighbourhood’ (P13).

Acknowledgement and affiliation

Of the 42 participants who had participated in Facebook naming and shaming, almost one-fifth (17%) stated that they participated as a way of acknowledging a post: ‘liked as an acknowledgement’ (P25) and ‘I probably agreed with what the person was saying about the convicted individual or the crime itself’ (P104). Another participant reported acknowledging such a Facebook post simply because ‘…it got “bumped up” into news feeds’ (P7). Other participants felt a need to acknowledge a post as a way of supporting friends: ‘my friends had been sharing it around and felt like I had to’ (P108).

Certain participants (14%) stated that they participated in naming and shaming because they were in some way affiliated with the incident or to the post. For example, one participant shared: ‘I lived in a high crime rate area for a while and was fed up with the behaviour of others around me, so I put it out there (on Facebook) that I wasn’t impressed’ (P64). A few participants (8%) also reported engaging with the content when the person who had posted it was affiliated with the situation in some way: ‘for content which is about someone the poster knows personally…’ (P33). Participants justified their actions through such affiliations.

Discussion – Sounds like a job for…

This study contributes to a deeper understanding of what members of the public think of online naming and shaming and why some choose to engage in it. The findings are discussed below in relation to cultural criminological considerations of the role of emotions, social media as a cultural product, and the mediascape.

The role of emotions

Emotions play a vital role in a cultural criminological approach to crime and crime control and may help to understand why people engage in digital vigilante activities like naming and shaming. For example, emotional engagement is important in ‘viral justice’, a type of informal justice that occurs when a victim–survivor’s justice-seeking post is viewed and shared extensively in a short period of time (Wood et al., 2018). Here, emotion is central, in that it is ‘affective contagion’ that leads to rapid circulation of images (e.g. of victim–survivors of intimate partner violence; Wood et al., 2018).

The virtual/networked space has a role as a place for self-expression. It ‘lends itself to “emotion dumping” …outpourings of personal self-expression that would never be tolerated in physical space’ (Hayward, 2012, p. 457). These forms of self-expression appear in the form of virtual revenge talk, digital vigilantism, cyber-bullying, and online stalking (Hayward, 2012). For those wishing to express disgust or concern, Facebook naming and shaming has become a means to do so, transgressing the social boundaries that might ordinarily apply. Facebook pages that encourage the naming and shaming of offenders provide a space in which to act with relative impunity, in ways that have been inhibited in other social spheres. Whilst many people who participate in digital vigilante activity may be law-abiding members of the public, anonymity may encourage the pushing and crossing of boundaries online (Arvanitidis, 2016). However, even without anonymity, some Facebook users may be emboldened to express views in the online space that they would not ordinarily make public.

Although fewer than half of the participants in this study endorsed online naming and shaming, it was regarded as acceptable if it may help protect other members of the community, particularly those who might be most vulnerable to predatory violent crime. Endorsement of naming and shaming was related to the severity of crime and the convicted status of the offender, indicating thoughtfulness about nuanced circumstances. For less serious infringements of the law, naming and shaming was also regarded as a way to educate and inform people that their behaviour was socially inappropriate, reflecting a motive of encouraging behaviour modification (De Vries, 2015). Thus, cultural criminology demonstrates how the internet and social media have shaped understanding about what constitutes appropriate online behaviour and crime control (Ferrell, 2013).

Social media as a cultural product

An integral part of the virtual/network space is the participatory culture that it generates (Hayward, 2012). Slacktivism, which refers to passively liking and sharing online content, becomes a means of demonstrating support through little effort and participation (Skoric, 2012). Although slacktivism usually relates to online activism, it is a useful concept for interpreting Facebook naming and shaming. The findings of this study, under themes of acknowledgement and affiliation, suggest that at least some participation in Facebook naming and shaming reflected Facebook users’ acknowledgement of, and support of, others in their social networks. However, Facebook users may passively demonstrate such support, without understanding the issues at hand.

Research suggests that liking content on Facebook makes people less likely to participate more actively, for example by donating or fund-raising, because it relieves feelings of obligation (Kristofferson, White, & Peloza, 2014). Our findings suggest cases in which participants may have engaged with naming and shaming as gesture of support that did not go beyond the online sphere (Kristofferson et al., 2014). Simply liking or sharing a post that names a suspect may contribute to Facebook users’ perceptions that they are assisting the criminal justice system or raising community awareness. Participating in naming and shaming either by liking a friend’s post to acknowledge it or by sharing a post to generate further community awareness and foster community welfare may nevertheless meet important social obligations in the online sphere. Such benefits have been acknowledged in previous research (Wood et al., 2018). However, while some Facebook users may see the practice of online naming and shaming as relatively harmless, others recognised the potential for negative impacts on the criminal justice process.

The mediascape

The mediascape constructs versions of reality, through an array of media that present information and numerous systems of digital technology that distribute corresponding images (Appadurai, 1996; Hayward, 2010). A cultural criminological approach considers how much of ‘what we see is actually mediated by the image’ (Hayward, 2010, p. 2). The findings from this study indicate that the perceived reputability associated with news media means that some Facebook users may see media reports as a green light to engage in digital vigilante activities like naming and shaming. As the findings further suggest, the lines between news and social media are increasingly blurred. Consequently, Facebook users may regard Facebook as a reputable information source, and an element of the mediascape that plays a significant role in shaping and manipulating public understanding of crime (Hayward, 2010). One such manipulation, the media’s use of fear in news about crime, is a prominent aspect of popular culture (Rose & Fox, 2014). However, the findings of our study in this regard suggest that despite the use of fear by the mediascape, some Facebook users are aware that online naming and shaming can be alarmist, generate unjustified fear, and potentially incite witch hunts and vigilante activity.

Public concern about certain types of crimes, and participants’ justification for naming and shaming in response to severity of crime may be expected to some extent. Crimes such as sexual assault, animal cruelty, and abuse or neglect of a child or person in one’s care are indeed serious and abhorrent crimes. Naming and shaming offenders on Facebook allows members of the public to contribute to the mediascape, joining with traditional media to challenge inadequate responses of the criminal justice system (Powell, 2015) and call for offenders to be held to account.

However, posting information about suspected or convicted offenders may be difficult to separate from posting about victim–survivors. Recent research has highlighted that while victims of crime who post their experiences online may derive some informal justice, posting images of violent victimisation may not always serve the victim–survivor’s needs (Powell, 2015). In some instances, the uptake of stories by mainstream media can help to ensure that criminal justice actors address the crime depicted; however, in other instances, the predominant outcome is that victimisation is extended or compounded in the online space (Powell, 2015; Wood et al., 2018). Additionally, it has been observed that attempts to seek informal justice (Powell, 2015) do little to address the structural nature of gendered violence, instead following and reinforcing established patterns (Salter, 2017). The findings of this study suggest that participants wanted to help victims; some explicitly commented that an offender should not be named and shamed if doing so would negatively impact a victim.

Implications for practice and research

The findings of this study have implications for policing organisations. For example, when using their social media accounts to request public assistance in locating suspects of crime, care is warranted. Some participants viewed naming and shaming as an appropriate response to police information requests. Therefore, even if careful attention is given to the framing of requests in campaigns such as Tasmania Police’s ‘Wanted Wednesday’, and participants are asked to communicate offline with police, a proportion of the community may view such requests as encouragement to engage in acts of digital vigilantism. Case studies of the impacts of such campaigns would be valuable.

Similarly, language used by media organisations is important to the way that criminal events and actors come to be understood (Arvanitidis, 2016). Journalists and news media organisations should avoid the use of language that implies support for naming and shaming. Increased use of footage and photos from citizen journalists, who post tirades on public transport, reflects a blurring of the lines between traditional and citizen journalism (Bratich, 2009). It may be that the guidelines for the use of citizen journalism by media organisations have developed less quickly than have media practices. However, media organisations should practice responsible publishing of citizen journalism so as not to encourage acts of digital vigilantism.

The findings of this study suggest a need to consider how to reduce harmful and stigmatising online naming and shaming. Ferrell (2013) suggests that situational crime prevention techniques, which attempt to reduce the opportunities to commit crime, can be implemented in this space by understanding how the ‘day-to-day environment’ influences crime (Ferrell, 2013, p. 260). One approach is to increase the effort it takes to participate in detrimental activity (Clarke, 2005). For example, Facebook could extend the time needed to undertake certain actions by making users tick a box (e.g. agreeing that ‘I have read and understand the terms and conditions’) when they make, comment on, or share a post. Alternatively, Facebook users could be asked periodically to re-familiarise themselves with the potential risks and harms of publishing certain types of information (Arvanitidis, 2016).

However, it would be inadequate to rely on crime prevention techniques that flow from theories of rational actors who choose to engage in harmful behaviour (Stratton et al., 2016). For example, in developing digital citizenship, it is essential not to impose views of educators, policymakers, and other sources of authority, but to recognise young people’s experiences of technology in their social worlds (Third & Collin, 2016). Similarly, to prevent the harms of online naming and shaming, such as interference in legal processes and compounded victimisation, it is important to understand social media users’ perspectives. This study contributed the views and experiences of online naming and shaming of a self-selected, convenience sample of Facebook users (Tranter, 2013). The views presented best reflect those of a sample of predominantly, although not exclusively, young, educated, female Tasmanians. Such views and experiences can contribute to identifying social norms and what constitutes good digital citizenship in the digital society. Studies with participants from diverse segments of the community would be helpful to further develop understanding of the views and behaviour of the broader community in relation to online naming and shaming.

Conclusion

This study contributes to understanding the public’s perceptions and experiences of digital vigilantism in the form of online naming and shaming, emphasising the views of those residing in Tasmania. The study revealed that whilst many Facebook users generally regard the naming and shaming of convicted or suspected persons as inappropriate, this is not the case when it comes to protecting the community from sexual and other violent offenders. Endorsement of online naming and shaming was also attributed to a lack of faith in the criminal justice system and a desire to assist the police. Cultural criminology offered a relevant lens through which to examine online naming and shaming, as it is a novel perspective intended for exploring a mass-mediated society. Overall, this study adds to the growing body of research addressing digital vigilantism, highlighting the integral role of social media as a cultural product of a digital society.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

We wish to thank the participants for taking the time to contribute to the study. We are grateful to two anonymous reviewers for their helpful feedback.

Declaration of conflicting interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Notes

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