Nieman Lab.
Predictions for
Journalism, 2024.
As 2024 nears, the world of media needs to get real about the way provocateurs hide behind plausible deniability and a feigned sense of shock when their online exploits affect people in their everyday lives. The “Libs of TikTok” saga stands as a testament to this new reality. Through its stream of misleading videos, this account has put a spotlight on teachers, healthcare workers, and LGBTQ individuals, resulting in online harassment and threats of physical violence. To this point, with a few notable exceptions, legacy media outlets have failed to frame these attacks as the threats they are to freedom of speech as well as individual and organizational safety.
Media Matters for America’s detailed timeline of Chaya Raichik’s Libs of TikTok account paints a vivid picture of this worrying trend of online pot-stirrers riding a wave of controversy to silence their enemies and burnish their personal brands. There are real people at the heart of this, and it too often gets ignored.
In May 2022, the small town of Kiel, Wisconsin, was terrorized by anti-LGBTQ activists after the school’s opening of a Title IX investigation into the bullying of a trans student was amplified by the likes of Fox News and Newsmax. The investigation, which was erroneously described on the right as simply being about students refusing to refer to the trans student with “they/them” pronouns, actually involved a multi-day harassment campaign that included a physical attack.
Libs of TikTok spread the principal’s name along with the misleading version of the story to her followers, and the school was soon inundated with threats. A 34-year-old California man was arrested for threatening to kill a teacher at the school. Six bomb threats were received over nine days with targets including every school in Kiel, the public library, local stores, and the water treatment plant.
Schools in the town were shut down for the remainder of the school year, forcing students to return to COVID-era virtual learning environments, and Kiel’s Memorial Day parade was canceled. According to a local report, after school administrators received an email demanding that the Title IX investigation be dropped by June 3, the school acquiesced and closed it on June 2, effectively caving to terrorist threats.
How did national media cover this? Mostly, it didn’t. The Washington Post’s only mention of this saga came in the form of a wildly deceptive opinion column from George Will titled, “When the pronoun police come for eighth-graders.” In it, Will omitted any mention of threats to the school, siding with the terrorists and calling school administrators a “national disgrace.” Will linked to conservative legal analyst Jonathan Turley’s blog, which omitted the same facts, as well as a Wall Street Journal opinion post with a near-identical title (“The Progressive Pronoun Police Come for Middle Schoolers”). Under the banner of fighting back against “wokeness,” mainstream media outlets, which have continued to shift rightward in recent years, have made clear that they are, at best, okay with this sort of terrorism. At a moment when national news outlets should be clearing the air, they have instead been pouring gasoline on the fire.
Seemingly everyone has forgotten about that story, but don’t worry: There seems to be a new online-motivated threat each week. Libs of TikTok, alongside others in similar positions, hides behind plausible deniability. They argue, somewhat conveniently, that they can’t be held responsible for the actions of their online followers. This defense poses ethical questions that journalists can no longer afford to sidestep.
Take, for instance, Elon Musk’s recent indulgence of the Pizzagate conspiracy or Donald Trump’s baseless assertions about the 2020 election. These are more than just fleeting online moments; they have serious, real-world implications. In 2024, the role of the press transcends reporting. Journalists are now the tightrope walkers in this high-wire act of covering digital provocations and their real-world effects.
The mission of the press is twofold. First, it’s about shining a light on the murky corners of the digital world where responsibility is often a game of hot potato. Secondly, it involves advocating for a more accountable digital space. This is crucial in an era where social media platforms, free from the checks of traditional media, often resemble a Wild West of content distribution. The few gatekeepers that remain, legacy news organizations, have largely ignored or inflamed matters.
If legacy media isn’t up to the task of accurately reporting on what’s happening in the world in a way that doesn’t mockingly refer to victims of coordinated harassment campaigns as the “pronoun police,” to shrug at the idea that Elon Musk “has revealed himself as a conservative,” or to treat Donald Trump’s incendiary rhetoric and policy proposals as simply part of the standard “horse race” coverage of an election year, then it will have proven itself little more than cheerleaders in a never-ending campaign of terror. Often, when institutions are confronted with the moral panics they’ve helped enable, they respond with contempt. That must change if there’s ever any hope of ending this cycle.
Parker Molloy is the author of The Present Age newsletter.
As 2024 nears, the world of media needs to get real about the way provocateurs hide behind plausible deniability and a feigned sense of shock when their online exploits affect people in their everyday lives. The “Libs of TikTok” saga stands as a testament to this new reality. Through its stream of misleading videos, this account has put a spotlight on teachers, healthcare workers, and LGBTQ individuals, resulting in online harassment and threats of physical violence. To this point, with a few notable exceptions, legacy media outlets have failed to frame these attacks as the threats they are to freedom of speech as well as individual and organizational safety.
Media Matters for America’s detailed timeline of Chaya Raichik’s Libs of TikTok account paints a vivid picture of this worrying trend of online pot-stirrers riding a wave of controversy to silence their enemies and burnish their personal brands. There are real people at the heart of this, and it too often gets ignored.
In May 2022, the small town of Kiel, Wisconsin, was terrorized by anti-LGBTQ activists after the school’s opening of a Title IX investigation into the bullying of a trans student was amplified by the likes of Fox News and Newsmax. The investigation, which was erroneously described on the right as simply being about students refusing to refer to the trans student with “they/them” pronouns, actually involved a multi-day harassment campaign that included a physical attack.
Libs of TikTok spread the principal’s name along with the misleading version of the story to her followers, and the school was soon inundated with threats. A 34-year-old California man was arrested for threatening to kill a teacher at the school. Six bomb threats were received over nine days with targets including every school in Kiel, the public library, local stores, and the water treatment plant.
Schools in the town were shut down for the remainder of the school year, forcing students to return to COVID-era virtual learning environments, and Kiel’s Memorial Day parade was canceled. According to a local report, after school administrators received an email demanding that the Title IX investigation be dropped by June 3, the school acquiesced and closed it on June 2, effectively caving to terrorist threats.
How did national media cover this? Mostly, it didn’t. The Washington Post’s only mention of this saga came in the form of a wildly deceptive opinion column from George Will titled, “When the pronoun police come for eighth-graders.” In it, Will omitted any mention of threats to the school, siding with the terrorists and calling school administrators a “national disgrace.” Will linked to conservative legal analyst Jonathan Turley’s blog, which omitted the same facts, as well as a Wall Street Journal opinion post with a near-identical title (“The Progressive Pronoun Police Come for Middle Schoolers”). Under the banner of fighting back against “wokeness,” mainstream media outlets, which have continued to shift rightward in recent years, have made clear that they are, at best, okay with this sort of terrorism. At a moment when national news outlets should be clearing the air, they have instead been pouring gasoline on the fire.
Seemingly everyone has forgotten about that story, but don’t worry: There seems to be a new online-motivated threat each week. Libs of TikTok, alongside others in similar positions, hides behind plausible deniability. They argue, somewhat conveniently, that they can’t be held responsible for the actions of their online followers. This defense poses ethical questions that journalists can no longer afford to sidestep.
Take, for instance, Elon Musk’s recent indulgence of the Pizzagate conspiracy or Donald Trump’s baseless assertions about the 2020 election. These are more than just fleeting online moments; they have serious, real-world implications. In 2024, the role of the press transcends reporting. Journalists are now the tightrope walkers in this high-wire act of covering digital provocations and their real-world effects.
The mission of the press is twofold. First, it’s about shining a light on the murky corners of the digital world where responsibility is often a game of hot potato. Secondly, it involves advocating for a more accountable digital space. This is crucial in an era where social media platforms, free from the checks of traditional media, often resemble a Wild West of content distribution. The few gatekeepers that remain, legacy news organizations, have largely ignored or inflamed matters.
If legacy media isn’t up to the task of accurately reporting on what’s happening in the world in a way that doesn’t mockingly refer to victims of coordinated harassment campaigns as the “pronoun police,” to shrug at the idea that Elon Musk “has revealed himself as a conservative,” or to treat Donald Trump’s incendiary rhetoric and policy proposals as simply part of the standard “horse race” coverage of an election year, then it will have proven itself little more than cheerleaders in a never-ending campaign of terror. Often, when institutions are confronted with the moral panics they’ve helped enable, they respond with contempt. That must change if there’s ever any hope of ending this cycle.
Parker Molloy is the author of The Present Age newsletter.
