Suicide as spectator sport

Many people have heard the story of Megan Meier, the 13-year-old who committed suicide after being tormented online by a teenage boy who told her to kill herself… who later turned out to be not a teenage boy at all but a 49-year-old mother getting some kicks through cyberbullying. (The woman in question, Lori Drew, was charged with conspiracy and some other minor offenses, but was convicted only of three misdemeanour counts of accessing computers without authorization.)

I’m not sure how many people have heard of Abraham Biggs, a Florida teen who killed himself November 19 in front of an online audience via live streaming video. Hundreds of viewers (up to 1,500 according to one report) tuned in to watch the 19-year-old overdose with pills, lay down on the bed… and remain still. Those still watching hours later were able to see cops break down his bedroom door and cover up his webcam, ending the show.

It turns out Biggs had announced his suicidal intentions on Bodybuilding.com, a forum he frequented.

“I hate myself and I hate living,” he wrote. “I want my life to end. I am tired of f@#$ing up everything. I am tired of people always telling me that they do not like me.”

If Biggs was hoping to gain any sympathy online, he was not to find it. Forum members laughed and encouraged his plan. One user wrote: “You want to kill yourself? Do it, do the world a favour and stop wasting our time with your mindless self-pity.”

So he did.

Certainly, it is not forum members’ fault that Biggs was suicidal and they should not have been tasked with stopping him from carrying out his plan. But what does it say about a community that, instead of reaching out to someone obviously in trouble, chose instead to goad him on, put him down, push him further into the abyss into which he was so clearly sinking?

Of course, individuals are responsible for their own actions, and that includes suicide. And yet… if someone is suicidal or easily impressionable or emotionally vulnerable and you take advantage of that, should you bear no culpability at all for what might happen as a result of your involvement? Should there not be an expectation of human decency, even online?

Bullying is not limited to the online world, not by a long shot, but it certainly introduces a unique and repugnant new level to it. As countless others before me have observed, the Internet can be a cutthroat and merciless place. Ugliness abounds. It can be a dangerous place for the faint of heart, the vulnerable, the sensitive. Many will maintain that the only person capable of making you feel inferior is yourself and that words on a screen– especially the words of a stranger on a screen– should have absolutely no effect on you. Unquestionably, it’s enviable to have the strength of character and unshakeable sense of self to withstand those who would belittle or play mind games with you; that is true both online and off. But not everyone can claim that level of confidence, especially not those struggling with self-esteem issues, depression or other mental illnesses, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect everyone to react with steely resolve or nonchalance in the face of derision. After all, most people recognize that emotional abuse is as cruel and damaging to the victim– and as damning a reflection on the perpetrator’s character– as that which is physical; does the same not apply online?

In my own online experiences, I’ve seen more examples than I care to recall of people hurling unspeakable invective at the weak and easily bullied. I’ve seen people tell others to kill themselves… never those I suspected were suicidal or at risk of becoming so, but definitely those facing emotional or mental issues– easy targets, no doubt, and also those most likely to be affected by the abuse. While I don’t think it’s ever pleasant to be insulted or mocked or berated, it’s about a hundred times more difficult to handle when in the midst of an emotional crisis or breakdown.

For Megan Meier, it must have become too much to handle. And for Abraham Biggs, his own personal demons pushed him to the brink and his online community, rather than try to pull him back, mocked him, maybe even pushed him over, then sat back and literally watched.

I find myself questioning whether any of those who laughed at him or told him to go through with it feel even a twinge of remorse at how the situation turned out… and realize that if they were the types to feel empathy they would not have acted that way to begin with.

No, the Internet does not have exclusive rights to the heartless… but it certainly gives them a fertile playground.