Whenever a crime is committed which results in loss of life it is an atrocity. This week, on Wednesday, just before 3 pm a car, driven by a man intent on causing harm, was driven across Westminster Bridge, hitting people as it went, before crashing into the railings of Parliament. It’s driver then stabbed and killed a police officer. Four people, including PC Keith Palmer, were killed along with the attacker himself. 20 people were injured.
This week also marked the anniversary of the attack on Brussels, which saw 32 people lose their lives only months after a similar large-scale attack in Paris at the end of 2015.
With the exception of the murder of MP Jo Cox at the hands of a white supremacist last year (which all too many of those reporting on this week's atrocity were too quick to forget about), in her constituency of Batley and Spen, and Lee Rigby in Woolwich in 2013, this was the first incident to officially be declared a ‘terror attack’ in England for over a decade, since the bombings of 2005. Yet, in the time since the last large-scale terror attacks in London there’s no doubt that we’ve seen more and more terror attacks occurring, across the world and coming increasingly closer to home.
What follows any terrorist attack is commotion. There is a rush to both comprehend what has happened and why. People attempt to work out where they stand on associated issues, quickly, in the immediate aftermath of a post-attack world: immigration, Islamist extremism, the refugee crisis, Brexit and immigration.
It’s no surprise that people have taken to social media to respond to this latest incident. After all, we live so much of our lives online it makes sense that we would share our thoughts and feelings about any event, good or bad, there.
However, despite the ubiquity of social media, despite the central role it plays in all of our lives, the fact that it is how so many of us live our lives, it seems that, when it comes to atrocities, we’re still unsure how to present ourselves online.
Collective grief pours out across online communities and, almost inevitably, after a terror attack we see people across the world engaging in social media solidarity. Following the attacks in Paris people filtered their Facebook pictures with the colours of the Tricolor and after the attacks in Brussels Uber superimposed tiny Belgian flags onto its taxi icons. Another common occurrence is people ‘checking in’ and marking themselves as safe after an incident.
While some people are rendered speechless and enter into quiet contemplation privately, others voice anti-immigration or Islamophobic sentiment in a very public fashion via social media. Many public commentators, including, of course, the likes of Katie Hopkins and Tommy Robertson (yes he of the group formerly known as the EDL), use these opportunities to further their own agenda, often before the facts are fully available. You can’t help but feel that for those on the most distasteful part of the right wing political spectrum had been waiting for this moment. For Hopkins, it was her time to shine as a so-called ‘expert’ on Fox News over-simplifying a complex situation in order to spread hate.
Particularly in the context of what has happened in London this week, it seems fair to say that how we respond to a terrorist incident online says more about us as individuals than it does about society as a whole or the specifics of the incident itself. It’s important not to underplay the atrocious nature of the attack on Parliament this week, and any loss of life is abhorrent. However, surely it’s also important to recognise the scale of what has occurred? It seemed to jar slightly that people from London, who understand the scale of the city, were posting on social media to confirm their own safety as opposed to posting to express their condolences, anger or sadness about those who were caught up in it?
A tweet such as Sinitta’s feeds into a narrative of hysteria, implying that one man had shut down London and cowed its residents into submission. The reality, atrocious as Wednesday’s attack was, is that it did not shut down the city, it did not stop people. In fact, it showed London to be a resilient city of people who would not give in to terror.
After a terror attack what is always palpable and ever-present is the discrepancy between how different people respond to a terror attack online. Some choose to say nothing, others post personal statuses (even if they have not been directly affected) and others share memes.
So how does how does social media affect how we present ourselves after an atrocity? Why do we respond to some more than others?
‘A terrorist attack is a focussing event,’ explains Dr Bernie Hogan from the Oxford Internet Institute. ‘It gives people a focus to get behind.’
When something bad happens, like on Wednesday, it’s easy to be on the ‘right’ side, because it’s easy to see who the bad guy is - which means we can say something we know other people will agree with and appreciate. ‘People might be checking in or posting online because they really feel like people will be worried about them,’ professor Hogan adds, ‘but they might also be doing it because it feels good when we participate because we get feedback… People get swept up in this because it gives them an identity to get behind.’
It gives us a cause to get behind and a tribe we can become a part of at a very basic level - ‘It’s easy to differentiate between good Londoners and bad terrorists.’
A video that has been shared online since Wednesday’s attack shows journalist Simon Jenkins speaking on the BBC’s Newsnight on Wednesday following an article he wrote that day. In it, he says that while he would never ever wish to underplay what happened in Westminster because it was, categorically, a ‘tragedy’. However, he said, it was ‘not a threat to democracy’.
He also makes the point that ‘terrorism is just a means of getting publicity’ and asks whether the media has a responsibility to think about how much and what sort of publicity and incident like this is given. He also makes the point that hysteria and panic, especially when perpetuated by politicians, is often then used as justification for ‘curtailing freedoms’. ‘The terrorists’ aim is not just to kill a few but to terrify a multitude’ he said, ‘for politicians and media to overreact would play into their hands’, and that’s definitely worth pause for thought.
There’s no easy answer to the question of how we, as individuals, or the media should respond to a terror attack online. And, perhaps, the answer is that there is no right or wrong way to respond to an atrocity because they are never not horrific. However, what’s certain is that terror thrives on the shock of the new and its lifeblood is fear and hatred. This is now a hyper-connected digital world where you press one button causing everything and everyone else to react instantly. What we really need is the time, space and means for reflection.
**You might also be interested in: **
All The Messed Up Images We Look At Online Might Be Giving Us PTSD
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.