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Being part of the first generation of fluent internet users has its benefits. I feel properly equipped for challenges with technology, I can utilize the internet to make my daily life simpler, and I can consume entertainment at a rate never thought possible in the past. Listening to music, for example, has never been easier. I can cover years of music in single afternoons whereas it might’ve taken days or weeks to track down LPs, CDs, or cassettes before streaming. In many ways, life with the internet is easier.
However, growing up with the internet has led to a fracturing of identities. The ability to interact with others on the internet has led to a process of individuation completely separate from the real world in which individuals and subjects develop identities that are significantly different from their real-world counterparts. This has become complicated even more by the COVID-19 crisis and the idea of “plague subjectivity.” In this brief essay, I intend to explore the development of my own identity as well as the ways in which the COVID-19 crisis has complicated that identity.
I would say my online identity began with online games back in my first year of high school. Prior to this, I played games with my close friends from school, so I would not say my online identity was significantly different from my actual identity. After that, however, I began playing MMORPGs and joining “guilds” with players I would never meet outside of the virtual world. Because of this, a new identity was required.
Developing an alias is good practice for online games in general. You don’t want people to be able to find any of your personal information out on the internet. However, the anonymity that an alias provides can become addicting. Essentially, you get free rein to be whatever kind of person you want. You’re not going to meet most of the people you find on online games in real life, so there are almost no consequences to good or bad behavior online. The only reward for good behavior is knowing that you’re a good person. If you’ve ever been on the internet, you know that isn’t much of a reward. In fact, being chaotic and aggressive seems to be more rewarding than being good.
I know this because I quickly realized it myself. Playing competitive games online brings out the worst in people over the internet. We would use all kinds of obscenities to refer to other people online and they would fire right back at us. It was a toxic environment. I know that none of the people in my group would have acted the way they did online in real life. In real life, there are social acceptability biases that act on individuals in place of the alluring veil of anonymity. Moreover, there are financial and social incentives to being a good person, such as making money or attracting a romantic partner. Those incentives don’t exist on the internet.
As a result, it’s easy for the “extremely online” individual to descend into a state of semi-psychosis in which the online reality is completely separate from actual reality. In high school, I was spending a very unhealthy amount of time on online games and, as a result, I saw this happening in myself. There were weeks that would go by where I was being referred to by my screen name more than my real name. I don’t think I was ever ashamed of this extreme separation of online identity and real identity, but I never talked about it with other people. I just sort of stepped into my online persona every time I logged on to an online game.
I think I’ve sufficiently explored the causes of acting aggressively online due to anonymity, but it’s still hard for me to make sense of it sometimes. Was my online identity completely separated from my real identity or was it a more true version of my real identity? Did anonymity simply give me the cover I needed to expose my true identity to the world? I’m not so sure. I like to think that part of the reason I acted so stupid online was because I was a dumb kid, but even then I was playing with people who were more than thirty years old. You would expect people with jobs, mortgages, and car payments-- real responsibilities-- to act less toxic online, but then you would be surprised. A lot of the older adults online enabled my own toxic behavior by being toxic themselves, so I don’t think this is limited to any type of person. I met lots of people online. Some of them were nice and compassionate, but that was the exception and not the norm.
Looking back at this experience, I can say that I’ve changed. I now find that it’s much easier to just ignore or be nice to random people on the internet. More importantly, I’ve realized that the internet causes “online psychosis.” To elaborate, you become so deeply entrenched in the culture of your internet bubble that you lose sight of reality. In my case, it manifested itself in toxicity. In the case of others, however, I think there are more insidious implications. On Twitter, for example, political discourse is so far removed from reality that it may as well be in space. Extreme left-wing Twitter users seem to find themselves scratching their heads when a majority of people outside of the internet aren’t radical leftists. On the other hand, extreme right-wing internet users seem to find dark corners of the internet where they become radicalized and violent. The implications for this are far worse than the implications of, say, me being mean on an online video game. Though I like to think I did a good job of eventually distancing myself from my initial online identity, I could see how online psychosis could become actual psychosis and motivate people to violence against others.
With the COVID-19 pandemic, I believe that online psychosis has become a pandemic as well. In March, we were all more or less forced online because of a lack of alternatives. As a result, I believe people began digging deeper into their online niches. In my personal experience, I began relying heavily on online forums for meaningful discussions about things like heavy metal. Thankfully, I think my experience with the internet in high school equipped me to handle online psychosis. However, I’ve observed lots of my friends on the internet begin descending into online psychosis. One example of this is misinformation. In a face-to-face interaction, I think it is a lot easier to verify or be skeptical of someone when they give you information. Online, however, it’s much easier to confirm your own biases and accept statements without question. I see this happen on Twitter every day and it baffles me how people can accept a statement less than 280 characters at face value.
Finally, I think as people are being pushed further and further online, online identity becomes much more important. With COVID-19, I spend more time interacting with people on the internet than real life some days. What choice do I have? I’m socially starved and the internet is more convenient than any of my friends in real life. I can see a lot of people making this choice and, as a result, inserting themselves in harmful communities and falling victim to misinformation. Just like online games became a significant part of my online identity, I could see extremist politics or violent ideologies becoming part of online identity. Combine that with online psychosis distorting reality and the internet could be a ticking time bomb.
Where does that leave us? I’m not so sure. What is the cure for online psychosis? I’m not so sure. I got out of my online psychosis, but I’m not sure why or how. Moreover, did I escape my online psychosis or did it simply become benign? Again, I’m not sure. What I do know, however, is that pushing people further and further online may have dangerous implications. Think about the generations growing up and creating their online identities even earlier than I created mine. An entire generation with online psychosis beginning at a young age can only cause harm. Therefore, though we should not be afraid of innovation and internet use, we should continue to be careful and wary of online psychosis and its effects.
George Nalbandian is a McConnell Scholar in the class of 2021. He is studying political science and English at the University of Louisville.