There's an interesting column by Tim Adams at The Guardian about "How the internet created an age of rage." He describes the way anonymity allows commentors online to spew "hatred and bile" in ways they otherwise wouldn't. What I like about the article is Adam's discussion of the psychology of deindividuation:
I have mixed feelings about pseudonymity and anonymity. On one hand, yes, writers are protected to express opinions without being identifiable. There is also demonstrated value during times of repression under harsh regimes.
But as a female blogging under my own name (and I never had the option to be pseudonymous), I have also experienced the dark side of deindividuation on the Internet. Most of it is appears as harmless nonsense on my site from readers who disagree with me on particularly controversial topics such as genetically modified foods or climate change. But now and then, pseudonymous or anonymous trolls cross the line by sending sexually explicit content or violent threats. This is when productive discourse stops and becomes sport and spectacle. But I've been navigating the blogosphere since 2006 and have grown a thick skin.
However, a story I read about anonymity in 2007 forever changed the way I feel about accountability on the Internet. After an 18-year-old girl was killed in a horrible car crash (I've chosen not to publish her name to discourage readers from voyeuristic googling), her mourning parents began receiving anonymous e-mails and texts with photographs of the accident, including pictures of her decapitated body strapped to the crumpled remains of the car. These graphic images were initially leaked by California Highway Patrol officers and have since circulated tens of thousands of websites. Someone even set up a fake MySpace page disguised as a tribute website with the photos and comments about the girl, her parents, and younger siblings. The loss of her young life was tragic, but it's equally devastating that no one can legally be held responsible for abusing her family so horrifically under the cloak of anonymity.
I believe in freedom of speech, but also in civility and accountability when actions harm others.