SO YOU'VE BEEN PUBLICLY SHAMED . by Jon Ronson . (Picador £16.99) Shame stalks the land. It wakes us up at three in the morning. It inhabits the most secret corners of our lives. It’s a complete waste of time and energy, but for many of us it’s a lifetime’s work to get shot of it. I think I’ve lost most of mine, but I still have a little spare if you’re running short. At the same time, the real villains of the piece, the people who really should feel shame for what they have done and continue to do, feel none at all. Jimmy Savile was shameless. I know a few bankers, and I don’t know one who feels anything but delight that he and his kind have got away with it. So this is an important subject, and a fascinating one. Two new books consider shame from different points of view. Jon Ronson is a journalist and broadcaster who has built up something of a reputation writing about extremely odd people. For this book, however, he has spoken to normal people who found themselves in distinctly abnormal situations. For these are people who have been shamed, publicly, humiliatingly, horribly. Sometimes what they have done is pretty bad; sometimes what they have done is nothing much at all. But in each case, the judgment of the mob has been merciless. In his book, Jon Ronson insists that there is potential in everyone for this merciless judgment (stock image) Take the case of Justine Sacco, a young New York PR who tweeted this: ‘Going to Africa. Hope I don’t get Aids. Just kidding. I’m white!’ As jokes go, it’s definitely at the bad taste end of the spectrum, and it’s not one I’d make. But the point is: it was a joke. One of Justine’s 130 followers on Twitter retweeted this, then others re-re-retweeted it. When she landed at Cape Town airport, there was a text from her best friend. ‘You need to call me immediately. You’re the number one worldwide trend on Twitter right now.’ The abuse was astonishing. ‘All I want for Christmas is to see @Justine Sacco’s face when her plane lands and she checks her inbox/voicemail.’ ‘We are about to watch this @Justine Sacco b**** get fired. In REAL time. Before she even KNOWS she’s getting fired.’ And worse, much much worse. A man was waiting at the airport, took a photo of her and posted it online. Newspapers ran stories on her. She had to cut short her holiday because hotel staff were threatening to go on strike if she showed up. She was fired from her job and no one else would hire her to do anything. Her life was ruined over a bad joke. Ronson tells this terrible story in his deadpan way, his sympathies clearly with the victim. But he admits that he too has been part of a Twitter mob monstering some poor fool who had done something he didn’t approve of. This is what public shaming amounts to these days. Justice, says Ronson, has been democratised. Not all of his interviewees are so sympathetic. Take the case of Jonah Lehrer, the sharp young American hack who made up one too many quotes and was shamed into unemployment. Given the opportunity to apologise at a conference, he found that the hosts had erected a huge screen with a live Twitter feed behind his head. ‘I am not feeling terribly convinced by the deadpan mea culpa droning on by @jonahlehrer.’ ‘I can’t handle watching the @jonahlehrer apology. He is boring and unconvincing. Time for something else.’ While he was making his speech! Why not just put him in the stocks and throw rotten tomatoes at him? What this all amounts to, of course, is bullying. Worse: self-righteous, vindictive bullying. Jon Ronson’s book isn’t always the easiest read, although his characteristic wit and wonderful, sinuous way of telling a story guide you effortlessly through the horrors within its pages. He is also insistent that the potential for such behaviour is in us all. And while you’re thinking ‘No, not me’, he tells you a story that so incenses you that you can imagine taking action against the malefactor yourself. He is a clever man and this is a magnificent book, subtly argued, often painfully funny and yet deeply serious, and absolutely of the moment. I’m not sure I can recommend it highly enough. IS SHAME NECESSARY? by Jennifer Jacquet . (Allen Lane £17.99) For Jennifer Jacquet, shame is not so much a scourge as ‘a tool that we can put to use to help solve serious problems’. This young American environmentalist wishes to make corporations behave better. If we are to save the planet, then just buying dolphin-friendly tuna and energy-saving lightbulbs isn’t going to do it. No, we have to shame companies into doing what we want them to. We can do this in much the same way that Ronson’s trolls have. Shame is ‘more salient to public life than ever before, since the power to use it has been wrested away from opinion leaders and the state and put increasingly in the hands of citizens’. Jacquet can’t write for toffee, but her manifesto for change deserves our respect. I still prefer Ronson’s book, though, which sits uncomfortably in the memory, like something you did long ago, and really wish you hadn’t.
Jon Ronson has a reputation for writing about extremely odd people . He has spoken to normal people who have been humiliatingly shamed . In his book he insists the potential for such behaviour is in all of us .