On March 23, Microsoft launched an artificial intelligence program known as Tay on Twitter. Tay’s developers intended for her to interact with people on Twitter in order to learn how millennials communicate. In less than 24 hours, though, Tay had gone from having the mindset of a friendly teenage girl to spouting racist and sexist language, even calling for the genocide of Jews and Mexicans. Having had its AI program coaxed by internet trolls into vehement xenophobia, Microsoft was forced to quickly remove Tay from Twitter.
Although Tay failed to survive on the internet for a long period of time, she still, in part, accomplished her goal of finding out how millennials use social media. Tay’s moral degradation sheds light on the fact that thousands, if not millions, of internet trolls exist and often stay hidden in the shadows, behind their screens. Despite our desire to create “safe spaces” that limit hurtful speech our college campuses — as Emory University did a few weeks ago to prevent students’ expression of their support for Republican candidate Donald Trump — the internet still possesses a certain Wild West character. Without anyone to hold them accountable, these trolls took over the web with enough power to corrupt a robot in less than 24 hours, a robot that had been developed by Microsoft for over a year.
Thus, while I wholeheartedly agree with the aims of #DoBetterDartmouth to spread diversity awareness at our school through posting pictures of inflammatory messages found on Yik Yak, I question whether this particular strategy is futile. The appearance of these inflammatory messages should surprise no one. The structure of Yik Yak makes it a petri dish for internet trolls to flourish. As a smartphone application that grants anonymity to its posters, Yik Yak enables users to distance themselves from derogatory remarks they may make. Since their identity is hidden, Yik Yak users can take on new personas and post opinions that they do not agree with in reality. When the internet grants this anonymity, trolls take over just as flies swarm to rotting fruit. Although we, Dartmouth students, may aspire to hold more educated and moral opinions than the general public, the same trolls that forced Microsoft into shutting down Tay plague our own online chatboard.From what I understand, #DoBetterDartmouth wants to foster conversations on important diversity issues and to educate students on the effects that their comments may have on others. These are no doubt good intentions. However, despite its best efforts, #DoBetterDartmouth will likely be interpreted as an attack on Yik Yak users. In the structure of their current program, this group posts fliers with inflammatory Yik Yak messages around campus, along with their #DoBetterDartmouth hashtag. In telling Dartmouth to “do better,” the students behind this effort come across as interpreting a select few posts on an anonymous message board as representative of the views of the student body. Although that is not the case, the campaign’s strategy turns what should constitute a productive discussion into tension and hostility.I doubt that #DoBetterDartmouth’s current approach will achieve their goals. Sadly, #DoBetterDartmouth is unlikely to reduce or eliminate hateful Yik Yak messages. Students who make these posts likely do so as a means of rebellion against authority, as a way to express themselves on an increasingly liberal and open-minded college campus. Shaming Yik Yak posters could have an unintended, counterproductive effect to silencing this hate as students feel their last PC culture-free venue get taken over, they are likely to respond by rebelling more and posting increasingly controversial messages. To stop this from happening, #DoBetterDartmouth should engage students through face-to-face conversations, spread empathy and bringthe students together, rather than pit the student body against itself through Yik Yak messages and posters hung on bulletin boards.
