Public service or just ragebait? Here's why I think online shaming has gone too far

You've probably seen it in your social media feed – a photo of an elderly person putting their bare feet on the bus seat, or a stranger secretly filmed eating on a train or manspreading.

The captions to these photos, where the subject's face is usually uncensored, are usually along these lines: "Look at this person. How dare they. Why do they think they are entitled to do this?"

Such posts often spark commiserative outrage, garnering dozens or even hundreds of comments supporting the original poster, or OP for short, and shaming the video's protagonist.

There's a vigilante element to this type of posting. Ordinary citizens feel they are not just venting but also policing social norms on behalf of the wider community – for instance, warning against potential scams or harmful behaviour such as dangerous driving.

Personally, I don't think this instinct is a bad thing in itself.

In a democracy, it matters that people care enough to speak up. Calling out bad behaviour can shine a light on problems we might otherwise overlook or ignore.

But in recent years, it seems that almost every minor, irksome, yet arguably morally offensive act gets called out, too.

This can be anything from someone slumping over two MRT seats looking visibly tired, to a person "chope-ing" a parking lot, talking loudly on the phone, or even pet owners letting their dogs perch on chairs at a coffee shop.

With each new pile-on, it's feeling more and more like the culture of public shaming online has gone too far.

WHY DO WE POST SUCH THINGS?

Part of how we got here lies in the rise of citizen journalism.

In the late 2000s, cameras started to become widely integrated into mobile phone designs. You no longer needed to buy or carry a stand-alone camera around with you to capture things you saw while out and about in normal, everyday life.

During this time, media outlets such as Stomp started calling for readers to send in photos of occurrences they deemed deserving of public attention. Ordinary people were "empowered" to expose bad behaviour, especially in shared spaces such as public transport.

Now, nearly 20 years on, what once felt like citizen journalism is now more often flat-out complaining. 

It's no longer a novelty to expose perceived wrongdoing by strangers, but rather a norm – one that is kept very much alive on social media, especially in complaint groups like Complaint Singapore, which boasts more than 250,000 members and SG Road Vigilante for traffic-related matters.

But this normalisation appears to have had a broad effect on what drives "call-out" posts like these.

Sometimes, those stories do start useful conversations about safety, courtesy and service gaps.

Yet when it comes to complaint groups, it's not clear that there's any real purpose other than instant catharsis.

"Journalism" is no longer the right word for it, not even the "citizen" brand of it. Often, there's no visible attempt at balance, fact-checking or context – just a one-sided take or portrayal of an incident with, as many Singaporeans put it, "no head, no tail".

With older websites designed around more traditional blog styles, submissions still had to be approved by content moderators. 

But on modern platforms such as Reddit and TikTok, almost anything can be made public instantly with a simple press of the "post" button. Complaining online has never been freer or easier.

The popularity of this form of complaining makes sense to experts. Dr Ong Mian Li from Lightfull Psychology and Consulting Practice explained that dealing with unseemly behaviour from strangers by broadcasting it online feels like a high-reward, low-risk act.

It's not just about removing direct confrontation from the equation – the comfort of anonymity online also lowers our inhibitions, he added. Behind a screen, people often say or do things they would never attempt in person.

Publicly shaming someone in this manner can also feel particularly satisfying in the moment. "Expressing moral outrage can activate the brain's reward centres," said Dr Ong. "There's this reptilian part of our brain that gets activated when it is an 'us' versus 'them' thing."

This reward takes on a social dimension, too, where every "like" or supportive comment reinforces the sense of having done something righteous. 

WHAT ARE WE TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH?

At its best, such call-outs can serve as a deterrent to similar behaviour.

When you're constantly exposed to the threat of your misbehaviour – accidental or otherwise – being published online, subjected to the judgment of hordes of strangers, you naturally adjust to avoid unwanted attention. Maybe you'll think twice before cutting a queue or eating on the MRT.  

I have also witnessed Singaporeans cautioning non-locals to be on their best behaviour on the MRT, by not sitting in the priority seat, for example, so they don't end up on a viral social media post.

One might even go as far as to say that the threat of public shaming fosters social etiquette, however grudgingly. However, shaming in general rarely produces long-term behaviour change, said Dr Ong. Instead, it tends to trigger defensiveness or resentment.

When the "bad" behaviour in question is serious, such as harassment or abuse, online shaming can play a watchdog role. News sites often pick these posts up, sparking much-needed conversations about safety and accountability.

But not all online shaming spotlights illegal or harmful behaviour.

If we're calling out people for acting in a way that simply annoys us, what productive purpose are we fulfilling? 

If the accused individual being put on public trial never sees our TikTok clip complaining about them putting their foot up on a bus seat, what useful change are we instigating?

There have also been instances of such people getting dogpiled online, or even doxxed when strangers expose their personal details online. In these cases, was it absolutely necessary to inflict this kind of damaging humiliation upon them, or would a quiet word with them on the spot have been more than enough correction?

The question of whether people online are genuinely upset or angry about the behaviour they're criticising is one thing – but a lot of the time, these posts just become a kind of entertainment. Are we spotlighting real issues or just the "crazy Singaporean" of the day, something to gawk at and laugh over?

Some featured in these "complaint" posts have been wrongly identified as well, causing innocent people and their families to face the wrath of anonymous netizens for an act they never committed.

SHARING IS NOT ALWAYS CARING

At the end of the day, online shaming says as much about the poster as the person being shamed. What is our real intention? Are we genuinely trying to make things better, or are we just chasing that little rush of shared outrage and likes online – often at the expense of another?

Sure, the fear of ending up on someone else's feed might make some behave a bit better. 

In a world where content is increasingly stripped of context and anything can go viral overnight, showing a bit of grace to each other might matter more than ever.

Do we want to build a culture of empathy and accountability, or one where we simply pile on for sport? After all, how are we supposed to build a "we first" society when our first instinct is to shame one another?

It's a little heartening to see that reactions to online shaming posts aren't always aligned with the OP's sentiments these days.

Instead of vigorous agreement, it's becoming increasingly common for netizens to push back, asking the OP why they didn't approach the person directly or telling them to mind their own business.

Netizens have become savvier about spotting complaints that are petty rather than purposeful: A bag on the next seat of an MRT train, a commuter resting tired feet, a parched passenger drinking water on a hot day.

A lot's been said in recent years about whether Singapore has lost her "kampung spirit". If we really care about community building, perhaps the harder but more meaningful thing to do is to speak up in the moment, give someone the benefit of the doubt, or step in to help.

It might not go viral, but it might actually make a real difference.