same discrepancy . Comment sections quickly descended into incivility , particularly on more contentious topics ( Wright et al ., 2020 ; Santana , 2014 ). Discussions regularly stopped being productive and instead turned into argumentative attacks between anonymous users , where only the most extreme views were heard . The aggressive nature of these BTL discussions resulted in a skew in commentors – they were predominantly male , and the same regular users would comment again and again ( Graham and Wright , 2014 ). This was far from the ideal of collaborative , democratic journalism that was painted by the original mythmakers .
For journalists , BTL comments on their articles became something of a millstone . While most continued to read comments on their articles , journalists increasingly rarely engaged in BTL spaces , due in part to a lack of time , but also a diminishing belief in their usefulness ( Nielsen , 2014 ), and a concern about their impact on journalism . By 2016 , “ Don ’ t read the comments ” had become a common mantra in online newsrooms ( Gardiner , 2018 ). A lack of engagement from journalists once again undermines the myth of reciprocal journalism , where ideas are passed back and forth between journalists and readers .
Journalists have cited many concerns about BTL spaces and the nature of comments to explain their decreasing interaction . One key finding is the belief that commentors are “ atypical ”, and therefore not as useful as initial hopes had anticipated . There are several reasons for this : as already discussed , the polarising nature of comment sections puts off certain people , particularly women ( Gardiner , 2018 ); commenters on specific topics tend to be “ experts ” rather than average members of the public ( Graham and Wright , 2015 ); and some commenters engage with the intention of purposely manipulating online debate . A significant vast majority of Guardian readers will never comment at all . Many journalists are concerned that allowing the contributions of this small , atypical group of readers to influence their journalism , it might undermine the integrity of their work .
There is also a concern that these BTL comment sections undermine the “ authority ” of the newspaper brand ( Rusbridger , 2021 ). These spaces can be hives of falsehoods and misinformation , elevated by their very presence on a national newspaper ’ s website ( Graham & Wright , 2015 ). While the myth of participatory journalism was appealing in an ideal form , many journalists were not prepared to cede their authority to users , often anonymous or pseudoanonymous , who could make any unsupported claim without consequence . There were also concerns about the Guardian ’ s shifting direction , with the focus on openness and interaction replacing a long-held ideal of quality and trust ( Singer and Ashman , 2009 ).
Perhaps the most pervasive concern for journalists , however , is the prevalence of abuse in BTL comment sections . In a 2018 study , Gardiner found that an alarming amount of articles on the Guardian website receive abusive or dismissive comments directed at the journalists . More concerningly , articles written by women or nonwhite journalists attracted a disproportionate amount of abusive and dismissive comments , no matter what subject they were writing on ( Gardiner , 2018 : p603 ). A similar story appears across newspapers and cultures ( Chen et al ., 2018 ). This has certainly left a nasty taste in some journalists mouths when compared to the higher form of journalism that BTL comment spaces were supposed to usher in . Viner wrote in 2013 in the Guardian :
HANNAH WIGRAM
28