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Crash Override: How Gamergate (Nearly) Destroyed My Life, and How We Can Win the Fight Against Online Hate
You've heard the stories about the dark side of the internet -- hackers, #gamergate, anonymous mobs attacking an unlucky victim, and revenge porn -- but they remain just stories. Surely these things would never happen to you.
Zoe Quinn used to feel the same way. She is a video game developer whose ex-boyfriend published a crazed blog post cobbled together from private information, half-truths, and outright fictions, along with a rallying cry to the online hordes to go after her. They answered in the form of a so-called movement known as #gamergate--they hacked her accounts; stole nude photos of her; harassed her family, friends, and colleagues; and threatened to rape and murder her. But instead of shrinking into silence as the online mobs wanted her to, she raised her voice and spoke out against this vicious online culture and for making the internet a safer place for everyone.
In the years since #gamergate, Quinn has helped thousands of people with her advocacy and online-abuse crisis resource Crash Override Network. From locking down victims' personal accounts to working with tech companies and lawmakers to inform policy, she has firsthand knowledge about every angle of online abuse, what powerful institutions are (and aren't) doing about it, and how we can protect our digital spaces and selves.
Crash Override offers an up-close look inside the controversy, threats, and social and cultural battles that started in the far corners of the internet and have since permeated our online lives. Through her story -- as target and as activist -- Quinn provides a human look at the ways the internet impacts our lives and culture, along with practical advice for keeping yourself and others safe online.
Zoe Quinn used to feel the same way. She is a video game developer whose ex-boyfriend published a crazed blog post cobbled together from private information, half-truths, and outright fictions, along with a rallying cry to the online hordes to go after her. They answered in the form of a so-called movement known as #gamergate--they hacked her accounts; stole nude photos of her; harassed her family, friends, and colleagues; and threatened to rape and murder her. But instead of shrinking into silence as the online mobs wanted her to, she raised her voice and spoke out against this vicious online culture and for making the internet a safer place for everyone.
In the years since #gamergate, Quinn has helped thousands of people with her advocacy and online-abuse crisis resource Crash Override Network. From locking down victims' personal accounts to working with tech companies and lawmakers to inform policy, she has firsthand knowledge about every angle of online abuse, what powerful institutions are (and aren't) doing about it, and how we can protect our digital spaces and selves.
Crash Override offers an up-close look inside the controversy, threats, and social and cultural battles that started in the far corners of the internet and have since permeated our online lives. Through her story -- as target and as activist -- Quinn provides a human look at the ways the internet impacts our lives and culture, along with practical advice for keeping yourself and others safe online.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published September 5, 2017
151 people are currently reading
3233 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 303 reviews
September 7, 2017
I picked up this book because I wanted to know more about Zoe's experience, and was pleasantly surprised to find her devoting a large deal of the book to analyzing the systems that enable online abuse. She is incredibly impressive in the way she not only survived her experience, but documented it, learned about it, and is attempting to turn these systems inside out in an effort to help others. Instead of digging through the book for more fuel for conspiracy theories, perhaps take a radical position of actually believing her. Zoe is a trailblazer and should be proud of all the work she has done.
September 10, 2017
tbh, before I read this book, I figured at least writing a review would be quick. I was well aware of what Quinn had been put through, and I was worried that saying anything critical at all would help the haters hate some more, so I figured I would be saying something like "yay standing up against bullies", "boo to misogyny" and that would be it.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Because this book is GOOD, and perhaps more importantly, it comes at a time when there are a bunch of conversations we as a society need to have, and it raises all of these issues in smart, analytical, hectic, informed and passionate ways. It goes way beyond Quinn's own experience and into the messy questions facing anyone who cares about the world going to crap.
The first half of the book is interesting, horrific (as anyone with even a passing familiarity with GG would expect) and anger-making, but it is in the second half that is most worth reading. Through the lens of online-organised hate crime (my words, not Quinn's), Quinn raises pretty much every major issue that progressive communities are grappling with in the face of the rise of the alt-right/neo-nazi brigade.
The book, like Quinn, is far from perfect, and swoops between very-strong strengths and irritating weaknesses. Quinn fires off analysis with impressive and often invigorating smarts, but the approach is scatter-gun and contradictions appear without synthesis at times. Her writing is wonderfully comedic, and Quinn packs a great turn of phrase, but the editing feels sloppy at times and grammatical errors slip through more often than they should. Like many gaming designers, Quinn is best at analysing and deconstructing systems, and is clearly motivated by getting something working, and solving problems through activities she can control and manage. In the book, she is tackling something without solutions that neatly fit that approach. You get the sense of the different angles she has come at the problem from, but also of a weary frustration at the underlying sense of not making a difference despite her smarts, hard work and persistence. The book bounces a bit between immediate actions to assist, and bigger systemic issues that her analysis is wonderful on, but solutions thinner on the ground. You certainly get a sense of just how damn good she is at what she does, both in game design and in Crash Override, but you also get a sense of what the latter has taken out of her as she has made a difference to thousands but not, to quote her quoting a Baroness, healed the wound at the centre of it all.
And the thing that makes this book so pertinent right now is that the wound is bigger than games and online harassment: without GG, it is arguable that Trump wouldn't have happened. While in the end, the rabid mob who participated in GG didn't stop the evolution of game diversity, they did succeed in mobilising a wider community around a set of ideas most of us thought had long been eradicated. Breitbart was catapulted into a much bigger community by GG. Milo Yiannopoulos and Steve Bannon became overnight stars, from which they built a powerful base. This isn't just misogyny, it's a cocktail of white supremacy; homophobia; trans-hatred; Islamaphobia; and multiple other anti-diversity violence.
So the first really attention grabbing part of the book for me dealt with the issues swirling around identity politics and intersectionality. Quinn charges headlong into this conversation, which anyone involved in supporting diversity is grappling with. She points out strongly in the book, that while the most prominent victims of GG were cis white women, the perpetrators had been targeting African-American women for years, and trans women for even longer.
Quinn hands her narrative to other activists for sections of the book, arguing any real solutions to defeating hate have to be led by those who are most targeted by it, who mostly don't look like her. This is a context which is often missing from these conversations - it is the right who have a unified ideology of hate. I realised, reading some of the sections from Shafiqah Hudson, that this is the real argument for centering the experiences of those most under attack. It is only that way we built a response as unified as the neo-nazis are. White Feminism, or any other movement, which tackles only a specific manifestation of this ideology, divides and weakens both the understanding and the resistance to what is going on. Those at the heart - the 'intersection' - of the abuse generally have a better critique, and are seldom able to express it. Quinn is particularly critical of viewing online abuse as just a problem for women: pointing out that many of the victims have been non-white men, and that the constellation of identities comes into play.
It is worth acknowledging that you don't have to read books by white cis women to learn about this, but Quinn does navigate this space with an awareness of the contradiction, and a determination to use the platform that she has been given.
Quinn also does include material on the difficult topic of calling out, which I've rarely read put better:
Another powerful element to the book - and one which is remarkable really given her ordeal - is Quinn's strong orientation to acknowledging areas of grey and a commitment to what buzz-speakers call "safe to fail" culture. You can see here that being able to see this complexity did Quinn no favours as a target: she has never been afraid to take risks, and has scant talent or interest in hiding risky decisions, mistakes and things she now regrets, providing plenty of fodder for sensationalist headlines and distortions. As a contributor to change, though, it is an imperative value. In one of the most courageous things I've seen someone put in writing, Quinn talks about how her teenage self could easily have supported online abuse. She looks at the dynamics of being an outsider, and how mobs can reward abuse with warm fuzzies, creating a strange situation where people get affirmation and acceptance by ever-escalating violence against those outside the group.
It is here, in the discussion of the role of the community, that Quinn comes closest to an articulated solution. She points out that:
This of course, leads to the final part of what the book made me want to talk about. Quinn's material on law enforcement, and its role, is valuable reading not only on the topic of cyberbullying, but to anyone grappling with hate crime, and activism against it. Quinn's own experience is very pertinent here: her use of law enforcement ultimately assisted in perpetuating her abuse - firstly simply because her abusers got more information from police reports, including the name of her boyfriend, who was promptly fired after a mob attack on his employer; secondly because her ex used the restraining order process to stay in her life and attack her, until she, against his wishes, terminated the process (this will be familiar to DV and rape victims the world over). Tactically, she views legal processes as a dead end for victims of online hate, and is highly wary of calls for higher penalties, or stronger laws (while she is equally passionate about empowering victims to make these decisions for themselves, and for support for those decisions). As with other crimes, those most likely to be targeted are also those most likely to face police abuse and harrasment. Much online abuse is also part of bog standard domestic violence (Quinn's own case included) and this conversation is part of a broader discussion around how to deal with DV.
Well, for those who are still reading, I got a lot out of this book. It is an important contribution to an ongoing discussion from a smart, funny, analytical and TMI-honest game developer. A lot of people will want to read this as an act of solidarity, and I hope, like me, they take some thinking points out of it. I hope Quinn continues in this space in some way, she feels like part of a solution.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Because this book is GOOD, and perhaps more importantly, it comes at a time when there are a bunch of conversations we as a society need to have, and it raises all of these issues in smart, analytical, hectic, informed and passionate ways. It goes way beyond Quinn's own experience and into the messy questions facing anyone who cares about the world going to crap.
The first half of the book is interesting, horrific (as anyone with even a passing familiarity with GG would expect) and anger-making, but it is in the second half that is most worth reading. Through the lens of online-organised hate crime (my words, not Quinn's), Quinn raises pretty much every major issue that progressive communities are grappling with in the face of the rise of the alt-right/neo-nazi brigade.
The book, like Quinn, is far from perfect, and swoops between very-strong strengths and irritating weaknesses. Quinn fires off analysis with impressive and often invigorating smarts, but the approach is scatter-gun and contradictions appear without synthesis at times. Her writing is wonderfully comedic, and Quinn packs a great turn of phrase, but the editing feels sloppy at times and grammatical errors slip through more often than they should. Like many gaming designers, Quinn is best at analysing and deconstructing systems, and is clearly motivated by getting something working, and solving problems through activities she can control and manage. In the book, she is tackling something without solutions that neatly fit that approach. You get the sense of the different angles she has come at the problem from, but also of a weary frustration at the underlying sense of not making a difference despite her smarts, hard work and persistence. The book bounces a bit between immediate actions to assist, and bigger systemic issues that her analysis is wonderful on, but solutions thinner on the ground. You certainly get a sense of just how damn good she is at what she does, both in game design and in Crash Override, but you also get a sense of what the latter has taken out of her as she has made a difference to thousands but not, to quote her quoting a Baroness, healed the wound at the centre of it all.
And the thing that makes this book so pertinent right now is that the wound is bigger than games and online harassment: without GG, it is arguable that Trump wouldn't have happened. While in the end, the rabid mob who participated in GG didn't stop the evolution of game diversity, they did succeed in mobilising a wider community around a set of ideas most of us thought had long been eradicated. Breitbart was catapulted into a much bigger community by GG. Milo Yiannopoulos and Steve Bannon became overnight stars, from which they built a powerful base. This isn't just misogyny, it's a cocktail of white supremacy; homophobia; trans-hatred; Islamaphobia; and multiple other anti-diversity violence.
So the first really attention grabbing part of the book for me dealt with the issues swirling around identity politics and intersectionality. Quinn charges headlong into this conversation, which anyone involved in supporting diversity is grappling with. She points out strongly in the book, that while the most prominent victims of GG were cis white women, the perpetrators had been targeting African-American women for years, and trans women for even longer.
As @Blackamazon, @so_treu and @thetrudz and many, many other Black women pointed out, misogynist trolls are White supremacist/racist trolls are #GamerGate trolls, and they practiced—cut their teeth, if you will—on trans and Black women.
Quinn hands her narrative to other activists for sections of the book, arguing any real solutions to defeating hate have to be led by those who are most targeted by it, who mostly don't look like her. This is a context which is often missing from these conversations - it is the right who have a unified ideology of hate. I realised, reading some of the sections from Shafiqah Hudson, that this is the real argument for centering the experiences of those most under attack. It is only that way we built a response as unified as the neo-nazis are. White Feminism, or any other movement, which tackles only a specific manifestation of this ideology, divides and weakens both the understanding and the resistance to what is going on. Those at the heart - the 'intersection' - of the abuse generally have a better critique, and are seldom able to express it. Quinn is particularly critical of viewing online abuse as just a problem for women: pointing out that many of the victims have been non-white men, and that the constellation of identities comes into play.
It is worth acknowledging that you don't have to read books by white cis women to learn about this, but Quinn does navigate this space with an awareness of the contradiction, and a determination to use the platform that she has been given.
Quinn also does include material on the difficult topic of calling out, which I've rarely read put better:
If you’re still figuring all this stuff out (and god, who isn’t?), it’s important that you understand that you’re gonna fuck it up. I’m gonna fuck it up. We’re all gonna fuck it up. It’s key to learn how to apologize and grow from your fuckups without making them someone else’s problem. This can be hard to hear, and you might feel defensive, but try to listen.
Another powerful element to the book - and one which is remarkable really given her ordeal - is Quinn's strong orientation to acknowledging areas of grey and a commitment to what buzz-speakers call "safe to fail" culture. You can see here that being able to see this complexity did Quinn no favours as a target: she has never been afraid to take risks, and has scant talent or interest in hiding risky decisions, mistakes and things she now regrets, providing plenty of fodder for sensationalist headlines and distortions. As a contributor to change, though, it is an imperative value. In one of the most courageous things I've seen someone put in writing, Quinn talks about how her teenage self could easily have supported online abuse. She looks at the dynamics of being an outsider, and how mobs can reward abuse with warm fuzzies, creating a strange situation where people get affirmation and acceptance by ever-escalating violence against those outside the group.
We need a culturewide solution because individual change is difficult when online abuse is frequently a group activity. It’s harder to hear the voices of the people you’ve hurt over the dozens of others cheering you on ... the mob is a place to belong and find acceptance; it just happens to be built on someone else’s suffering.I could just keep summarising - less wittily - her points here, but it is one of the sections that most needs to be heard right now. Quinn raises the implications of this for change - knowing that expressing dissent to crappy ideas to your friends and family who think differently is more significant than umpteen posting to those who agree with you. She challenges the idea that mob shaming is ever a good thing - and here she started to shift some of my own assumptions in ways I need to let sit. How do you build resistance without isolation? If your systems don't work at all, are there ways of using democratic processes without mob ignorant justice? How does this work with collective mass action? HOw do you get humans to work together in groups without persecuting outsiders?
It is here, in the discussion of the role of the community, that Quinn comes closest to an articulated solution. She points out that:
The single best predictor of a better outcome that I’ve seen in my casework isn’t a useful response from big tech companies, or criminal charges being filed, or even the abuser moving on from being a dog turd with a clown nose on it—it’s community support.
This of course, leads to the final part of what the book made me want to talk about. Quinn's material on law enforcement, and its role, is valuable reading not only on the topic of cyberbullying, but to anyone grappling with hate crime, and activism against it. Quinn's own experience is very pertinent here: her use of law enforcement ultimately assisted in perpetuating her abuse - firstly simply because her abusers got more information from police reports, including the name of her boyfriend, who was promptly fired after a mob attack on his employer; secondly because her ex used the restraining order process to stay in her life and attack her, until she, against his wishes, terminated the process (this will be familiar to DV and rape victims the world over). Tactically, she views legal processes as a dead end for victims of online hate, and is highly wary of calls for higher penalties, or stronger laws (while she is equally passionate about empowering victims to make these decisions for themselves, and for support for those decisions). As with other crimes, those most likely to be targeted are also those most likely to face police abuse and harrasment. Much online abuse is also part of bog standard domestic violence (Quinn's own case included) and this conversation is part of a broader discussion around how to deal with DV.
Well, for those who are still reading, I got a lot out of this book. It is an important contribution to an ongoing discussion from a smart, funny, analytical and TMI-honest game developer. A lot of people will want to read this as an act of solidarity, and I hope, like me, they take some thinking points out of it. I hope Quinn continues in this space in some way, she feels like part of a solution.
September 17, 2017
Zoe Quinn didn't need to do any of this.
She could have just written down what happened, spit some insults at the vilest of the vile manchildren who caused it, and cashed a check. She didn't have to draw a straight line from the hordes of unbelievably hateful GamerGaters to the richest tech companies on Earth. She didn't have to call out everyone's favorite liberal, LGBT-friendly personalities as sociopathic monsters who'd rather let the world burn than hurt the bottom line. She didn't have to toss every fancy new Silicon Valley partnership her newly-minted fame gave her out the window by pointing out how they literally made money off the destruction of her life. And she sure as shit didn't need to explain, in prose as clear and simple as it is heartbreaking, how all of this occurred first as farce and then tragedy: how the same shitheads who chased GamerGate dollars sanded the words off their nametags and replaced them with ALT-RIGHT, and how all of us helped create a climate where a pussy-grabbing game show host could become the most powerful man on the planet.
But she did. And God bless her for it.
P.S. Laughing my ass off at some of the reviews on here. Still spouting your conspiracy theories in TYOOL 2017? Get a fucking life, nerds.
She could have just written down what happened, spit some insults at the vilest of the vile manchildren who caused it, and cashed a check. She didn't have to draw a straight line from the hordes of unbelievably hateful GamerGaters to the richest tech companies on Earth. She didn't have to call out everyone's favorite liberal, LGBT-friendly personalities as sociopathic monsters who'd rather let the world burn than hurt the bottom line. She didn't have to toss every fancy new Silicon Valley partnership her newly-minted fame gave her out the window by pointing out how they literally made money off the destruction of her life. And she sure as shit didn't need to explain, in prose as clear and simple as it is heartbreaking, how all of this occurred first as farce and then tragedy: how the same shitheads who chased GamerGate dollars sanded the words off their nametags and replaced them with ALT-RIGHT, and how all of us helped create a climate where a pussy-grabbing game show host could become the most powerful man on the planet.
But she did. And God bless her for it.
P.S. Laughing my ass off at some of the reviews on here. Still spouting your conspiracy theories in TYOOL 2017? Get a fucking life, nerds.
June 4, 2017
Quinn has taken the huge bushel basket of lemons she got by being a victim of a vindictive ex and the GamerGate mob and has turned it into lemonade for herself and other victims of online harassment. Here she is brutally honest in her telling of that awful time, and how she has come out the other side to create Crash Override, a group that helps other victims. I got this ARC at Book Expo. Many thanks!
September 24, 2018
Complete Waste of Time and Money
Giving this blog-in-book-form 2 stars only because it does highlight the abuses people endure when they are targeted by the hate machine. No one should be subjected to that abuse.
The second star is because this book reminded me why I read everything with a critical eye and do my own research in addition to information presented.
The fact is that Ms. Quinn made statements without presenting any evidence, which is a huge red flag. For example, she claims that TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists) harass, threaten and dox transwomen. However, evidence points to the complete opposite. Search Jeremiah "I punch TERFs" Byrne just as one example. Search the myriad of cases highlighting legitimate female concerns over transwomen invading female spaces (restrooms, changing rooms, etc). Hell, search the slur itself and you'll find example after example of rape threats, death threats and abuse against radical feminists by the Identity Politics mob. If Ms. Quinn was being objective and intellectally responsible, she would have done a quick search herself to discover this. I mean, she seems to know her way around the internet.
Ms. Quinn's slander against radical feminists is irresponsible, uneducated and self-serving. She is in a position to reach many ears - she has a voice. Quinn is a target of mob harassment herself, why on Earth would she set up another group of vulnerable people for the exact same harassment??
So, if Quinn is willing to slander one group of people to serve her purposes, this leads me to believe she may have lied about other events. Yes, many of her claims are easily verifiable, but her account of other events are rather questionable. I dug into The Ex's account of thier breakup and I found it far more genuine.The man she labels as her abuser in this book was clearly the abused! My heart really goes out to him, and I understand his hurt and anger (even if I find his subsequent actions reprehensible). I was a victim of narcissistic abuse, and as I read his account, I felt sick to my stomach. I recognized in Quinn so many abusive, crazy-making tactics that my ex used on me. That in no way, shape or form excuses his sequential actions, as what he encouraged others to put her through was criminal. And I am not implying Ms. Quinn has NPD, but she is definitely not the model of moral loftiness she presents herself as. So she loses 2 stars for intellectual dishonesty and irresponsibility.
Additionally, her book loses another star because it is just poorly written. I was looking forward to reading this book but when I actually dug in I was bored to tears. I found my mind constantly drifting off and I noticed I kept checking book completion percentage. I just wanted it to be over with so I could read something else. I know I could have put it down, but I paid for this, so I'm gonna finish it!
This book reads like an unsophisticated blog. Boring, and it appears like it was rushed and half-assed. Definitely not worth the $15.99 charged.
Conclusion - Quinn does address an important problem with regards to internet mob harassment. I give her credit for that. I also give her sympathy for the hell she undoubtedly went through and is still going through. However, when this memoir is observed through the lens of objectivity, it is boring, self-serving, dishonest and puerile. Save your money.
Giving this blog-in-book-form 2 stars only because it does highlight the abuses people endure when they are targeted by the hate machine. No one should be subjected to that abuse.
The second star is because this book reminded me why I read everything with a critical eye and do my own research in addition to information presented.
The fact is that Ms. Quinn made statements without presenting any evidence, which is a huge red flag. For example, she claims that TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists) harass, threaten and dox transwomen. However, evidence points to the complete opposite. Search Jeremiah "I punch TERFs" Byrne just as one example. Search the myriad of cases highlighting legitimate female concerns over transwomen invading female spaces (restrooms, changing rooms, etc). Hell, search the slur itself and you'll find example after example of rape threats, death threats and abuse against radical feminists by the Identity Politics mob. If Ms. Quinn was being objective and intellectally responsible, she would have done a quick search herself to discover this. I mean, she seems to know her way around the internet.
Ms. Quinn's slander against radical feminists is irresponsible, uneducated and self-serving. She is in a position to reach many ears - she has a voice. Quinn is a target of mob harassment herself, why on Earth would she set up another group of vulnerable people for the exact same harassment??
So, if Quinn is willing to slander one group of people to serve her purposes, this leads me to believe she may have lied about other events. Yes, many of her claims are easily verifiable, but her account of other events are rather questionable. I dug into The Ex's account of thier breakup and I found it far more genuine.The man she labels as her abuser in this book was clearly the abused! My heart really goes out to him, and I understand his hurt and anger (even if I find his subsequent actions reprehensible). I was a victim of narcissistic abuse, and as I read his account, I felt sick to my stomach. I recognized in Quinn so many abusive, crazy-making tactics that my ex used on me. That in no way, shape or form excuses his sequential actions, as what he encouraged others to put her through was criminal. And I am not implying Ms. Quinn has NPD, but she is definitely not the model of moral loftiness she presents herself as. So she loses 2 stars for intellectual dishonesty and irresponsibility.
Additionally, her book loses another star because it is just poorly written. I was looking forward to reading this book but when I actually dug in I was bored to tears. I found my mind constantly drifting off and I noticed I kept checking book completion percentage. I just wanted it to be over with so I could read something else. I know I could have put it down, but I paid for this, so I'm gonna finish it!
This book reads like an unsophisticated blog. Boring, and it appears like it was rushed and half-assed. Definitely not worth the $15.99 charged.
Conclusion - Quinn does address an important problem with regards to internet mob harassment. I give her credit for that. I also give her sympathy for the hell she undoubtedly went through and is still going through. However, when this memoir is observed through the lens of objectivity, it is boring, self-serving, dishonest and puerile. Save your money.
October 13, 2017
I met Zoë back in 2014, right at the onset of all this GG nonsense, when I was working at Twitter. Between frantically trying to help escalate the more egregious abusive posts, and dealing with my own stalker (who used GG to help advance his own obsessive abuse of women in tech), I didn't have much time for my engineering work, so I left shortly after.
I've been following her work and her story since then, and I find this book to be an approachable and accurate chronicle of the events of those few years. Zoë approaches her trauma with intelligence and wit, and does us the immense favor of explaining the systems and warped mindset that can lead a normal person to spend their time attacking and abusing strangers online.
Additionally she offers her expertise from her work with the *organization* Crash Override, which she founded to help folks that are attacked the way she was. I personally have found their step by step guides for internet hygiene to be extremely helpful.
Even if you're not a gamer or not in tech or not an activist, this book is an eye opener into the systems and characteristics that started with 4chan and continue with the "alt-right" and white supremacists today in America and beyond. Required reading for anyone who wants a vantage point into how those groups operate.
I've been following her work and her story since then, and I find this book to be an approachable and accurate chronicle of the events of those few years. Zoë approaches her trauma with intelligence and wit, and does us the immense favor of explaining the systems and warped mindset that can lead a normal person to spend their time attacking and abusing strangers online.
Additionally she offers her expertise from her work with the *organization* Crash Override, which she founded to help folks that are attacked the way she was. I personally have found their step by step guides for internet hygiene to be extremely helpful.
Even if you're not a gamer or not in tech or not an activist, this book is an eye opener into the systems and characteristics that started with 4chan and continue with the "alt-right" and white supremacists today in America and beyond. Required reading for anyone who wants a vantage point into how those groups operate.
January 23, 2018
The part where she boasts about how high her anti-anxiety prescriptions are---how they're just as high as combat veterans---made me laugh out loud. Yeah, watching your best friend losing limbs and having to shit in a bag for the rest of his life is totally the same things as getting a rude tweet.
Depression Quest was a lousy non-game by an amateur programmer which some how got accolades. This whole book was a long disjointed screed to deflect that criticism as being part of a vast right-wing, misogamist, nazi anime, troll conspiracy. Specific, actionable threats against someone are already illegal and are actionable. What she wants, however, is some kind of complain-to-the-manager, quasi-administrative privilege where she can get content she disagrees with removed and the accounts that posted it punished. This is the fantasy of someone who has never had anything bad happen to them other than a mean tweet.
Depression Quest was a lousy non-game by an amateur programmer which some how got accolades. This whole book was a long disjointed screed to deflect that criticism as being part of a vast right-wing, misogamist, nazi anime, troll conspiracy. Specific, actionable threats against someone are already illegal and are actionable. What she wants, however, is some kind of complain-to-the-manager, quasi-administrative privilege where she can get content she disagrees with removed and the accounts that posted it punished. This is the fantasy of someone who has never had anything bad happen to them other than a mean tweet.
August 12, 2017
Part memoir, part ode to cyberculture; Quinn shares her experiences as a game developer, professional, and victim of online abuse at the hands of Gamergate. This book was thoughtful and raw. I appreciated Quinn's honesty and solutions-oriented take on the problem that is online abuse. I think this book is important and I think it's something that everyone could benefit from reading. There's a lot to learn, both about tech stuff & online safety, as well as downright humility & compassion. Quinn's voice is important and being amplified at exactly the right time.
January 8, 2018
A really wonderful treatise on what to do if trolls start attacking you on the internet, Crash Override tells Zoe's story of how her life and work were taken over by her ex to a horrific degree. Already suffering from depression and a low-self image, she managed to help herself and eventually others with a business called Crash Override and she offers tips to help everyone protect themselves from online bullying and having your information stolen. Eventually, she even began working in her field again of creating games, because that is where her true love is. To me, this is the best part of the book, because it recognizes that what you love, your art, can sustain you, and nurture you in troubled times. A lot of women of color and trans women are attacked on line and gay men, because that is what bullies see as the weakest link. They are attacked for their lives and who they are, and Zoe says the best thing to do about it, by caring people is to focus not on sympathy for these attacks, but by focusing and sharing the art and work of these people and offering a gentle nudge in the right direction to trolls, like, "not cool, dude." I admire her so much.
November 26, 2017
I wasn’t sure I wanted to read this as I thought it would be rather depressing, but I’m glad I checked it out. Internet abuse is a horrible thing to read about, and some really rotten things happened to Quinn, but I liked how she dedicated a large chunk of her book to prevention and suggestions of what to do if it happens to you. I really appreciate her repeated points that internet abuse is never OK, even toward the “deserving,” like the abusers themselves, and that she called herself out on past abusive behavior of her own.
Her tips on how to support someone who has been the recipient of abuse were helpful and not always obvious, like not sharing anything without consent, even if it’s to share something that happened in order to express outrage. Another connected point was about how you inadvertently help spread toxic stuff by clicking on links to see what’s being said by abusers. Having just done some reading for a class on search engine optimization, this rang true. By linking to abusive content or following links, we’re adding to the “legitimacy” attributed to them by page ranking algorithms.
The author emphasized that giving unsolicited advice or pressure about how to handle abuse is not as effective as offering support, listening, and pointing to the positive things they do instead of just this horrible thing that happened to them. Not defining people by the abuse they’ve endured is an important piece.
I like how Quinn took a seemingly insurmountable problem and didn’t stop at helping herself but contributed considerably to the fight against the larger problem to help others too.
Although she was pretty good about defining her jargon, I think the book would have benefited from a glossary of terms. I had to stop a few times and look things up.
A valuable read, whether or not you’re an internet whiz kid, actually probably more so if you’re not.
Her tips on how to support someone who has been the recipient of abuse were helpful and not always obvious, like not sharing anything without consent, even if it’s to share something that happened in order to express outrage. Another connected point was about how you inadvertently help spread toxic stuff by clicking on links to see what’s being said by abusers. Having just done some reading for a class on search engine optimization, this rang true. By linking to abusive content or following links, we’re adding to the “legitimacy” attributed to them by page ranking algorithms.
The author emphasized that giving unsolicited advice or pressure about how to handle abuse is not as effective as offering support, listening, and pointing to the positive things they do instead of just this horrible thing that happened to them. Not defining people by the abuse they’ve endured is an important piece.
I like how Quinn took a seemingly insurmountable problem and didn’t stop at helping herself but contributed considerably to the fight against the larger problem to help others too.
Although she was pretty good about defining her jargon, I think the book would have benefited from a glossary of terms. I had to stop a few times and look things up.
A valuable read, whether or not you’re an internet whiz kid, actually probably more so if you’re not.
April 30, 2017
Zoë Quinn has written an important book, but not necessarily a great one. There's a lot of insight here into both her personal experience and the issue of online assault, but I think I learned more and had a better time with Jon Ronson's SO YOU'VE BEEN PUBLICLY SHAMED. Ms. Quinn's is an important voice, and I'm glad she's speaking out, but it does feel a little dry.
Want to read
September 5, 2017I don't really read nonfiction a lot, but I gotta support Ms Quinn for…obvious reasons.
February 23, 2018
I am not in any way a gamer so I was not familiar with Zoe Quinn and 'Gamergate' but this book popped up as a Kindle deal and I found myself interested in Quinn's story. Rather than buy it, I checked the e-book out from the library.
Quinn, an indie game developer is pushed into a nightmare when her ex-boyfriend starts and encourages a massive online harassment campaign with the sole purpose of destroying her life. She, her family, new significant other and friends and colleagues--and really anyone who attempted to defend her, faced a mob that did whatever they could to wreck and threaten their lives. Quinn relates the terrifying details including death and rape threats, but the book is also a primer for how to protect yourself from online abuse. Quinn went on from her nightmare to create a platform to help others in similar circumstances and her courage and perseverance are admirable. It's an absorbing, often frightening and infuriating read, and even if you aren't a gamer, if you have any online or social media presence, there are lessons to be learned.
Quinn, an indie game developer is pushed into a nightmare when her ex-boyfriend starts and encourages a massive online harassment campaign with the sole purpose of destroying her life. She, her family, new significant other and friends and colleagues--and really anyone who attempted to defend her, faced a mob that did whatever they could to wreck and threaten their lives. Quinn relates the terrifying details including death and rape threats, but the book is also a primer for how to protect yourself from online abuse. Quinn went on from her nightmare to create a platform to help others in similar circumstances and her courage and perseverance are admirable. It's an absorbing, often frightening and infuriating read, and even if you aren't a gamer, if you have any online or social media presence, there are lessons to be learned.
September 8, 2017
Audible narration and production: no complaints. I always prefer to “read” personal nonfiction in the author's voice. Could have benefitted from some tighter editing (name mispronunciation, grammar), but not distracting.
The first half is a memoir surrounding the rise and fall of GG and its impact on the author. The abuse the author suffered is fucking awful and the fall out continues today, as you'll likely see in comments of this review. Quinn's enemies are so dedicated to hating her that my auto-tweet for Goodreads progress was met with replies from people searching her name to smear her further. If that's not proof her story is worth telling, I don't know what is. However, I can't imagine anyone without prior knowledge of GG finding this part of the book interesting or worth reading. There isn't quite enough history or self-reflection to make it a recommendable memoir on its own. It also blows GG out of proportion in relation to the Entire Internet caring about it — while the discussions with tech orgs and the UN were notable, no one who didn't already know it was happening was paying attention. I'd be interested in hearing a full life memoir of Quinn's decades out, and if the garbage she went through ended up changing privacy and protection in social media.
The second half of the book is a reference guide for dealing with abuse online. It doesn't read like an advertisement for Quinn's organization of the same name, but contains actionable advice to follow if you, someone you love, or someone you hardly know is suffering from a targeted hate campaign.
The first half is a memoir surrounding the rise and fall of GG and its impact on the author. The abuse the author suffered is fucking awful and the fall out continues today, as you'll likely see in comments of this review. Quinn's enemies are so dedicated to hating her that my auto-tweet for Goodreads progress was met with replies from people searching her name to smear her further. If that's not proof her story is worth telling, I don't know what is. However, I can't imagine anyone without prior knowledge of GG finding this part of the book interesting or worth reading. There isn't quite enough history or self-reflection to make it a recommendable memoir on its own. It also blows GG out of proportion in relation to the Entire Internet caring about it — while the discussions with tech orgs and the UN were notable, no one who didn't already know it was happening was paying attention. I'd be interested in hearing a full life memoir of Quinn's decades out, and if the garbage she went through ended up changing privacy and protection in social media.
The second half of the book is a reference guide for dealing with abuse online. It doesn't read like an advertisement for Quinn's organization of the same name, but contains actionable advice to follow if you, someone you love, or someone you hardly know is suffering from a targeted hate campaign.
August 18, 2018
I'm really glad I read this book, and if you were aware at all of #GamerGate while it was happening, or you're curious now, you might want to pick up this book too.
Zoe Quinn does a spectacular job mashing together an insider's perspective on being a target of Gamergaters while also sprinkling in a dose of her own memoir. It's not 100% memoir or autobiography, because a healthy portion of the book is given to explaining how hatred on the internet spreads, how to combat it, what hurdles victims of online harassment face and what to do if you know someone being targeted.
I highlighted a number of places in the book that resonated with me, that I want to refer back to later. One such quote appeared after she said she doesn't believe in the advice "Don't feed the trolls."
Near the end of the book, Quinn also points out that the harassers don't think they are the bad guys, and I think that's an important lesson to learn. They might think they're seeking justice, but not that they are actively ruining an innocent person's life.
This is a perspective that had to be hard for Quinn herself to come to terms with, especially when you read snippets of some of the abuse she faced from anonymous abusers and harassers. Quinn humanizes and familiarizes herself with us by showing her background leading up to #Gamergate. But she humanizes and familiarizes with the obvious antagonists of her story too, and that took a lot of guts.
Zoe Quinn does a spectacular job mashing together an insider's perspective on being a target of Gamergaters while also sprinkling in a dose of her own memoir. It's not 100% memoir or autobiography, because a healthy portion of the book is given to explaining how hatred on the internet spreads, how to combat it, what hurdles victims of online harassment face and what to do if you know someone being targeted.
I highlighted a number of places in the book that resonated with me, that I want to refer back to later. One such quote appeared after she said she doesn't believe in the advice "Don't feed the trolls."
"Silence in the face of abuse is not a solution; it’s what abusers want."
Near the end of the book, Quinn also points out that the harassers don't think they are the bad guys, and I think that's an important lesson to learn. They might think they're seeking justice, but not that they are actively ruining an innocent person's life.
This is a perspective that had to be hard for Quinn herself to come to terms with, especially when you read snippets of some of the abuse she faced from anonymous abusers and harassers. Quinn humanizes and familiarizes herself with us by showing her background leading up to #Gamergate. But she humanizes and familiarizes with the obvious antagonists of her story too, and that took a lot of guts.
October 13, 2017
Zoe Quinn may be an excellent code writer and game designer, but she really needed someone to help her write this book. Clunky, and a tad poor as me in the first section. Once she starts writing about Crash Override, it was much more interesting.
I feel incredibly bad for Ms. Quinn and what she went through. I'm not sure why people feel it is ok to say whatever they want on the internet. I doubt much of the horrible things said to and about her would have been said if the speaker were not allowed to hide behind internet anonymity but were forced to do it face to face.
And let this be a lesson to the Millennial generation. Keep your personal life personal and don't throw it all over the internet.
I feel incredibly bad for Ms. Quinn and what she went through. I'm not sure why people feel it is ok to say whatever they want on the internet. I doubt much of the horrible things said to and about her would have been said if the speaker were not allowed to hide behind internet anonymity but were forced to do it face to face.
And let this be a lesson to the Millennial generation. Keep your personal life personal and don't throw it all over the internet.
September 5, 2017
The second this came out I found and got a copy. The prose is rather stilted and annoying. The subject, such as it is, Is one woman's spin on events that she was at the fringe of at best. She asserts that she was the victim of bullying online, and I believe that part BUT- the nude pictures she says were posted of her were not stolen- they were commercially available. She asserts she is a games designer, and technically that is true. However aside from a crowdsource that she never delivered promised game, and a "choose your own adventure" game called depression quest (which she made free after Robin Williams death in a way that screams attention seeking) She ISN'T actually the cornerstone famous face of any gaming anything. Apparently she is working on a FMV game at this time that is based on a not funny internet meme that has gone the way of the dodo at the time of this review. When the first chapter of any book starts with blaming her ex for everything BY NAME (which is easily found online because that's her whole point) I have to wonder at what part of this is supposed to make me feel for the author. Technically speaking she is bullying him back, only in a print form. And since this book is being foisted as being some sort of guidebook to how to deal with online hate, I see that as being the penultimate in hypocrisy. Ms. Quinn's internet drama around Gamergate ended 2-3 years ago. This book is her trying to extend her so-called fame for another 15 minutes. Anyone that, like myself, reads this book and finds it actually hard to read, hypocritical, in some cases character assassination bordering on libel, tread carefully. You will most likely be discounted as a "Gater" which I am not. Familiar? Yes. Hateful? not really.
If you are reading this book because you wish to learn what Gamergate was all about? Don't bother- It is just one woman's opinion of it and apparently it was all about her (research says otherwise). If you are looking to read about good ideas on how to handle online bullying? This books very existence negates the message by the end of the first chapter. How is it not bullying someone to put them on blast in the first 3 pages? By Name? You could have said a vengeful ex-boyfriend and the point would be made. However, if you wish to know the author of this book by reading it, I think that you will see a lot of her, unintentionally. She forgets that there is a thing called google, and while a lot of results might back her up for being bullied, there is a lot of good information that she outright lied (I.E her commercially leaked nudes, no proof under FIA of police reports of death threats, etc). Her games are few and not really well received even accounting for hacks and trolling. It is like hearing a guy that changed his sparkplugs once saying that he worked as a NASCAR mechanic.
I have no opinion on her morals. What she does with her body and her life are hers. But if you are trying to spin the idea that you were labeled a "slut" or anything RIGHT AFTER you admit you were going to move to a foreign country with a guy you met a week ago, it DOES tend to color the narrative for those that DO judge such things. For those that would believe you were in it for the free ride, etc. Thats just the first chapter. There is not really any way for a lot of things she asserts in her bloated book (could really have been shortened about 100 pages at least) to be confirmed for real, and I can accept that part. But some of it is outright libelous and most of it screams hypocrisy.
I don't feel this book enlightened me on any point she is trying to make, whatever that point may be.
If you are reading this book because you wish to learn what Gamergate was all about? Don't bother- It is just one woman's opinion of it and apparently it was all about her (research says otherwise). If you are looking to read about good ideas on how to handle online bullying? This books very existence negates the message by the end of the first chapter. How is it not bullying someone to put them on blast in the first 3 pages? By Name? You could have said a vengeful ex-boyfriend and the point would be made. However, if you wish to know the author of this book by reading it, I think that you will see a lot of her, unintentionally. She forgets that there is a thing called google, and while a lot of results might back her up for being bullied, there is a lot of good information that she outright lied (I.E her commercially leaked nudes, no proof under FIA of police reports of death threats, etc). Her games are few and not really well received even accounting for hacks and trolling. It is like hearing a guy that changed his sparkplugs once saying that he worked as a NASCAR mechanic.
I have no opinion on her morals. What she does with her body and her life are hers. But if you are trying to spin the idea that you were labeled a "slut" or anything RIGHT AFTER you admit you were going to move to a foreign country with a guy you met a week ago, it DOES tend to color the narrative for those that DO judge such things. For those that would believe you were in it for the free ride, etc. Thats just the first chapter. There is not really any way for a lot of things she asserts in her bloated book (could really have been shortened about 100 pages at least) to be confirmed for real, and I can accept that part. But some of it is outright libelous and most of it screams hypocrisy.
I don't feel this book enlightened me on any point she is trying to make, whatever that point may be.
November 7, 2019
So on the one hand, this book was pretty important in saving my life. And I should acknowledge that.
It made me feel like there was hope, that it was, indeed, possible to fight online hate.
On the other hand, I put it to someone this way:
Either Zoe was largely unaware of the kind of damage that could be done by online hate, in which case this book is a lie, or she deliberately used her knowledge to hurt (not necessarily to murder; I don't think she had either ability or desire to drive someone to suicide) - and now that she's back online, her words so far have made me feel: the book's not a lie, but she thinks that online hate only applies to "bad" people.
Which is inaccurate. And dangerous. And rather flies in the face of what she claims she's doing in this book.
And that makes this an ugly little read.
It made me feel like there was hope, that it was, indeed, possible to fight online hate.
On the other hand, I put it to someone this way:
Either Zoe was largely unaware of the kind of damage that could be done by online hate, in which case this book is a lie, or she deliberately used her knowledge to hurt (not necessarily to murder; I don't think she had either ability or desire to drive someone to suicide) - and now that she's back online, her words so far have made me feel: the book's not a lie, but she thinks that online hate only applies to "bad" people.
Which is inaccurate. And dangerous. And rather flies in the face of what she claims she's doing in this book.
And that makes this an ugly little read.
February 16, 2018
I’ve been reading about Zoe Quinn and her attackers since before Adam Baldwin coined “GamerGate,” before the “ethics in journalism” justification was tacked on, and I’ve been eagerly waiting for this book to answer one big question: how do you go on when that many people decide to devote their lives to ruining yours?
Zoe Quinn answers that, honestly and with humor, and then makes the book even better by listing the work she’s done to help others targeted online, the uphill fight to get the tech giants to go anything about the problem, and the steps you can take to reduce your own security holes.
Should be required reading for anyone who goes online.
Zoe Quinn answers that, honestly and with humor, and then makes the book even better by listing the work she’s done to help others targeted online, the uphill fight to get the tech giants to go anything about the problem, and the steps you can take to reduce your own security holes.
Should be required reading for anyone who goes online.
September 10, 2017
A brief history of GamerGate, followed by a deep and detailed analysis of the social, legal and technical gaps that make abuse such a staggering problem online. This book carefully weighs emotion, compassion, and the experiences of other people to provide an incredible story as well as a hopeful path forward.
do-not-read
November 28, 2017Blast from the past, and a precious Gamergate memento.
My suggestion to a compassionate reader would be to not take the story at face value and do a bit of independent research, while maintaining a solid dose of skepticism.
My suggestion to a compassionate reader would be to not take the story at face value and do a bit of independent research, while maintaining a solid dose of skepticism.
January 25, 2018
Watching GamerGate unfold from the outside and listening to Zoë Quinn describe it in her own words are two very different things. Crash Override: How Gamergate (Nearly) Destroyed My Life, and How We Can Win the Fight Against Online Hate is more than a memoir; it’s a comprehensive dissection of a flawed facet of the Internet. I read it not just because I wanted to hear Quinn’s account of what happened but understand, from the perspective of someone who has endured so much online abuse, how the systems are failing her and countless others. Trigger warnings for misogynistic slurs and imagery of rape and violence; Quinn reprints some of the threats and abuse she has received.
Crash Override begins with an extremely personal account of the events leading up to what became GamerGate. This is grounded in Quinn’s childhood love for video games and culminates with her transformation from indie developer into co-founder of the anti-abuse program that shares this book’s name. In this way, Quinn reminds us that she never set out to become so notorious: all she wanted to do was code cool indie games. But an abusive ex with a grudge changed all that. His actions triggered an avalanche of abuse and hate targeting not just Quinn but anyone who dared look like they might possibly offer her support.
Pause a moment to unpack this. I still vaguely remember this unfolding, from the initial splash to the whole debacle that followed. I remember the “ethics in video game journalism” crowd loudly declaiming the importance of freedom of speech and making sure reviews are honest/fair/objective—as if anyone, anywhere, was seriously arguing they should be bought-and-paid-for. I remember this happening while people were being sent death threats and all manner of abuse, simply for showing up and saying, “Um, hey, maybe don’t dox Zoë?”
The issue here was never freedom of speech, but if your defence of free speech at all overlaps with defending people who, by spewing their “free” hate speech, silence and harm others, then reconsider where you’re drawing that line.
Quinn, while sharing the visceral effect of enduring this abuse on her life and relationships, also steps back and tries to analyze it dispassionately. She locates some of the blame for this torrent of hatred on how easy the Internet makes dehumanization, which she defines as opposite to empathy. When we can’t see the effect our words have on someone, it is much easier to regard them as less than human. Quinn is careful to distinguish this from trolls who are doing things “for the lulz”, because such an analysis undermines the idea that these actions come from actual hatred and disgust. Rather, the Internet emboldens people—even when they aren’t acting anonymously—because it feels like one’s actions online come without strings attached.
In this way, Crash Override overlaps with another excellent resource, Haters: Harassment, Abuse, and Violence Online , by Bailey Poland. Both books seek to define, describe, and identify the source of online hate at a systemic level. Poland’s book is much more academic in style and format, whereas Crash Override is grounded both in Quinn’s personal experiences and in her experiences helping others deal with their own abusive situations. So, while a lot of this sounded familiar from Haters, this book still occupies a slightly different niche.
In particular, Quinn discusses at length working with various large companies to stop abuse on their platforms. This ranges from coordinating training and seminars on how to deal with abuse to contacting these companies’ abuse departments and trying to escalate specific cases when it seems like they are falling on deaf ears. Here again Quinn communicates palpable frustration with the broken system, often recounting examples of how certain companies or individuals just didn’t seem to “get it”—or worse, they “got it”, but they didn’t care enough to deal with it, because it might reduce their user base.
And that’s where we arrive at the thorny nugget of the problem. The Internet is not (and never was) the libertarian free-for-all that some dream of it being. But laws and regulation are slow to change, and while pressuring companies can have some effect, they’re ultimately in it for the money. This is not a problem that technology can fix, either. Savvy usage of technology to protect our privacy can go a long way, as Quinn points out when she describes the various steps one should take if one is the victim of these types of attacks. Yet this is ultimately a social problem, and it’s one we have to fix as a society. We have to take on the haters, the trolls, the abusers, and stop making excuses for them or turn a blind eye. We have to stop the apathy.
I think this is an invaluable read for most people who spend any amount of time online, but it’s most important for people like me—that is, people with enough combined privilege that we often don’t face abuse. Let me tell you: because I’m a white dude, my receipts folder is very, very slim. I’d have to work hard to have Eyes of Sauron turned upon me. Although marginalization is never a contest—there is no “oppression Olympics” and a winner of the “most oppressed identities” award—Quinn rightly points out that there are certain identities, certain intersections of identities in particular, that bear the brunt of online abuse. And if that seems doubtful to you, stop and consider for a moment if that’s just because of your perspective. It’s cold outside right now, but my house is toasty and cozy, so I couldn’t tell unless I open a window—and even then, I can just shut it any time I want.
Crash Override is far more open, engaging, and compassionate than we deserve from someone like Zoë Quinn. She could have chosen to bow out. She could have continued her work but decided not to write a book—I can only imagine how the abuse cycled up during this book’s release. She could have written a much more placid, less detailed account. She did none of these things, and she has chosen to work tirelessly on behalf of other abuse victims. I’m not here to make her out to be a hero—nor is she, for she points out how she has stumbled throughout her life, how she was once a bully in the way she was once bullied. We shouldn’t build individual actors up as gods or monsters of the interwebs; we should instead look for ways to encourage and reward each other for trying to change the system. One way to start the change is to understand the problem, and this book is a good tool in that respect.
Crash Override begins with an extremely personal account of the events leading up to what became GamerGate. This is grounded in Quinn’s childhood love for video games and culminates with her transformation from indie developer into co-founder of the anti-abuse program that shares this book’s name. In this way, Quinn reminds us that she never set out to become so notorious: all she wanted to do was code cool indie games. But an abusive ex with a grudge changed all that. His actions triggered an avalanche of abuse and hate targeting not just Quinn but anyone who dared look like they might possibly offer her support.
Pause a moment to unpack this. I still vaguely remember this unfolding, from the initial splash to the whole debacle that followed. I remember the “ethics in video game journalism” crowd loudly declaiming the importance of freedom of speech and making sure reviews are honest/fair/objective—as if anyone, anywhere, was seriously arguing they should be bought-and-paid-for. I remember this happening while people were being sent death threats and all manner of abuse, simply for showing up and saying, “Um, hey, maybe don’t dox Zoë?”
The issue here was never freedom of speech, but if your defence of free speech at all overlaps with defending people who, by spewing their “free” hate speech, silence and harm others, then reconsider where you’re drawing that line.
Quinn, while sharing the visceral effect of enduring this abuse on her life and relationships, also steps back and tries to analyze it dispassionately. She locates some of the blame for this torrent of hatred on how easy the Internet makes dehumanization, which she defines as opposite to empathy. When we can’t see the effect our words have on someone, it is much easier to regard them as less than human. Quinn is careful to distinguish this from trolls who are doing things “for the lulz”, because such an analysis undermines the idea that these actions come from actual hatred and disgust. Rather, the Internet emboldens people—even when they aren’t acting anonymously—because it feels like one’s actions online come without strings attached.
In this way, Crash Override overlaps with another excellent resource, Haters: Harassment, Abuse, and Violence Online , by Bailey Poland. Both books seek to define, describe, and identify the source of online hate at a systemic level. Poland’s book is much more academic in style and format, whereas Crash Override is grounded both in Quinn’s personal experiences and in her experiences helping others deal with their own abusive situations. So, while a lot of this sounded familiar from Haters, this book still occupies a slightly different niche.
In particular, Quinn discusses at length working with various large companies to stop abuse on their platforms. This ranges from coordinating training and seminars on how to deal with abuse to contacting these companies’ abuse departments and trying to escalate specific cases when it seems like they are falling on deaf ears. Here again Quinn communicates palpable frustration with the broken system, often recounting examples of how certain companies or individuals just didn’t seem to “get it”—or worse, they “got it”, but they didn’t care enough to deal with it, because it might reduce their user base.
And that’s where we arrive at the thorny nugget of the problem. The Internet is not (and never was) the libertarian free-for-all that some dream of it being. But laws and regulation are slow to change, and while pressuring companies can have some effect, they’re ultimately in it for the money. This is not a problem that technology can fix, either. Savvy usage of technology to protect our privacy can go a long way, as Quinn points out when she describes the various steps one should take if one is the victim of these types of attacks. Yet this is ultimately a social problem, and it’s one we have to fix as a society. We have to take on the haters, the trolls, the abusers, and stop making excuses for them or turn a blind eye. We have to stop the apathy.
I think this is an invaluable read for most people who spend any amount of time online, but it’s most important for people like me—that is, people with enough combined privilege that we often don’t face abuse. Let me tell you: because I’m a white dude, my receipts folder is very, very slim. I’d have to work hard to have Eyes of Sauron turned upon me. Although marginalization is never a contest—there is no “oppression Olympics” and a winner of the “most oppressed identities” award—Quinn rightly points out that there are certain identities, certain intersections of identities in particular, that bear the brunt of online abuse. And if that seems doubtful to you, stop and consider for a moment if that’s just because of your perspective. It’s cold outside right now, but my house is toasty and cozy, so I couldn’t tell unless I open a window—and even then, I can just shut it any time I want.
Crash Override is far more open, engaging, and compassionate than we deserve from someone like Zoë Quinn. She could have chosen to bow out. She could have continued her work but decided not to write a book—I can only imagine how the abuse cycled up during this book’s release. She could have written a much more placid, less detailed account. She did none of these things, and she has chosen to work tirelessly on behalf of other abuse victims. I’m not here to make her out to be a hero—nor is she, for she points out how she has stumbled throughout her life, how she was once a bully in the way she was once bullied. We shouldn’t build individual actors up as gods or monsters of the interwebs; we should instead look for ways to encourage and reward each other for trying to change the system. One way to start the change is to understand the problem, and this book is a good tool in that respect.
November 10, 2025
2.5
Wished this was better. This needed at least a second round of editing and rewriting before it was printed. Aside from some genuine errors (Francis Bacon, not Frances Bacon), it was written and organized in a way that made it very hard to follow. Quinn would be talking in one paragraph about something and then in the final sentence offhandedly mention a completely different topic, and we wouldn't get to that topic for like 4 pages. It felt like someone's first draft. Some sentences were also incredibly hard to parse. I respect Quinn and everything they went and continue to go through and I think this has potential, but it needed to be refined.
Wished this was better. This needed at least a second round of editing and rewriting before it was printed. Aside from some genuine errors (Francis Bacon, not Frances Bacon), it was written and organized in a way that made it very hard to follow. Quinn would be talking in one paragraph about something and then in the final sentence offhandedly mention a completely different topic, and we wouldn't get to that topic for like 4 pages. It felt like someone's first draft. Some sentences were also incredibly hard to parse. I respect Quinn and everything they went and continue to go through and I think this has potential, but it needed to be refined.
September 25, 2017
Crash Override by Zoe Quinn is a must read for anyone that operates a good amount of their life on the internet, especially content creators. Quinn takes us back to the beginnings of the #GamerGate harassment, what caused it, how it affected her life and her commitment to helping others overcome online harassment. Quinn first starts the memoir off in a very memoir like way by explaining her background and her love for gaming. Anyone in her age range, myself included, will be very familiar with the stories she shares about what the internet was like in the mid to late 90s and into the early years of 2000's. I always enjoy this type of reminiscing, because, like the Felicia Day memoir, this gives the reader an equal footing with the author because they share so many of the same memories. What is important during this part of the memoir is that she does not gloss over the fact that she was not a perfect individual. Because Quinn is honest about her mistakes, it makes what she has to say about the harassment she becomes a victim of more sympathetic.
The next portion of the book talks about the actual abuse and harassment from her ex-boyfriend and how that turned into what is known as #GamerGate, as he mobilizes a large group of individuals to harass and hurt the reputation of Quinn. During this portion of the memoir, Quinn educates the reader with terms such as brigading, SWATing, and doxing. As someone that wasn't completely unfamiliar with the terms used to harass individuals online, it was still nice to have a good refresher, and seeing those terms defined from the victim's viewpoint. The most important thing to take away from her account of the harassment is that as internet users, we need to be much more critical of what we read, and not easily accept or share stories about the misery of others so lightly.
The large second portion of this book is less memoir and more about the battles facing her movement and company called Crash Override. Through her ordeal, with the help of trusted friends, she begins to help others navigate mob harassment. As she begins to contact companies and law-enforcement, it becomes obvious that internet harassment is something that isn't being taken seriously enough. Most law-enforcement are ill-equipped to understand and take seriously harassment online, as even a judge tells her "just get offline." Quinn, mercilessly tells the reader over and over again that the "just get offline" advice is one of the worst things to say to someone whose career and life is required to be online. She mentions that a lot of the prejudices that many people who are harassed are some of the same prejudices they might encounter at law-enforcement. Companies start to take her more seriously as time goes by and better ways to handle harassment in large social media companies pop up but there are still many that care more about their bottom-line and hide behind free speech clauses to allow harassment to continue on their platforms.
Near the end of the book, Quinn gives us some tips on how to navigate the waters of online abuse and harassment. What to do when we are a victim of harassment ourselves and how to respond when we see others being harassed. She points out many times in the book that marginalized individuals, the black, trans women, are the ones being harassed the most. Her main point when it comes to being an ally for people that get harassed often is to make sure you have consent to help and share their story. Sometimes, well-meaning people make situations harder for those being harassed by signal boosting the harassment even more. Each person deals with internet abuse differently and no one way is the correct way.
I thought this was a good read and an important read for anyone putting themselves out there on the internet. Quinn gives a lot of great tips on how to protect your privacy and how to go about navigating the online world. The cultural upheaval that came about from #GamerGate is currently being played out at the highest levels of government and protests around the country. A lot of the same thinking that causes the harassment online are the individuals that many are protesting against. The neo-nazis and white supremacists get their start with harassment campaigns online and this book helps shine a light on their tactics and thinking. The second half of the book did slow down quite a bit with a lot of the legality talk, but that doesn't take away from its importance. A good read that I recommend to anyone wanting to understand online harassment.
4/5
The next portion of the book talks about the actual abuse and harassment from her ex-boyfriend and how that turned into what is known as #GamerGate, as he mobilizes a large group of individuals to harass and hurt the reputation of Quinn. During this portion of the memoir, Quinn educates the reader with terms such as brigading, SWATing, and doxing. As someone that wasn't completely unfamiliar with the terms used to harass individuals online, it was still nice to have a good refresher, and seeing those terms defined from the victim's viewpoint. The most important thing to take away from her account of the harassment is that as internet users, we need to be much more critical of what we read, and not easily accept or share stories about the misery of others so lightly.
The large second portion of this book is less memoir and more about the battles facing her movement and company called Crash Override. Through her ordeal, with the help of trusted friends, she begins to help others navigate mob harassment. As she begins to contact companies and law-enforcement, it becomes obvious that internet harassment is something that isn't being taken seriously enough. Most law-enforcement are ill-equipped to understand and take seriously harassment online, as even a judge tells her "just get offline." Quinn, mercilessly tells the reader over and over again that the "just get offline" advice is one of the worst things to say to someone whose career and life is required to be online. She mentions that a lot of the prejudices that many people who are harassed are some of the same prejudices they might encounter at law-enforcement. Companies start to take her more seriously as time goes by and better ways to handle harassment in large social media companies pop up but there are still many that care more about their bottom-line and hide behind free speech clauses to allow harassment to continue on their platforms.
Near the end of the book, Quinn gives us some tips on how to navigate the waters of online abuse and harassment. What to do when we are a victim of harassment ourselves and how to respond when we see others being harassed. She points out many times in the book that marginalized individuals, the black, trans women, are the ones being harassed the most. Her main point when it comes to being an ally for people that get harassed often is to make sure you have consent to help and share their story. Sometimes, well-meaning people make situations harder for those being harassed by signal boosting the harassment even more. Each person deals with internet abuse differently and no one way is the correct way.
I thought this was a good read and an important read for anyone putting themselves out there on the internet. Quinn gives a lot of great tips on how to protect your privacy and how to go about navigating the online world. The cultural upheaval that came about from #GamerGate is currently being played out at the highest levels of government and protests around the country. A lot of the same thinking that causes the harassment online are the individuals that many are protesting against. The neo-nazis and white supremacists get their start with harassment campaigns online and this book helps shine a light on their tactics and thinking. The second half of the book did slow down quite a bit with a lot of the legality talk, but that doesn't take away from its importance. A good read that I recommend to anyone wanting to understand online harassment.
4/5
September 26, 2017
Right off the bat, I'd like to welcome anybody who just came to post angry things about Zoe Quinn. Hi! It's blatantly obvious that you're trying to sink the rating of a book you haven't actually read! Then again, being completely ineffectual in tactics and obvious in ideology is so utterly Gamergate that there's no real point in complaining about it. Oh well!
Anyway, I was there when it happened. I remember when the first reports came out with scarce information, and I briefly joined the dogpile without knowing any better. What dogpile? The thing they called Gamergate--the waking nightmare that this book is about. Chances are, you know something about that trash fire if you're here reading a review. Maybe, like myself, you've been following it from the beginning. Maybe you heard about it on NPR, or through any of the other usual author circuits.
Crash Override doesn't have a "normal" structure, as far as these things go. It's partially a memoir, sure, but it's partly a guide to the way internet harassment works and to surviving it. Sure, it begins where you'd expect it to--with the first shots fired by Quinn's creeper of an exe--but it flashes back and forth between Quinn growing up, the dawn of the campaign against her, and the present weirdness of her life. It's about harassment, sure, but it's also a personal piece on growing up creative, queer, and pissed off on the internet.
Surprisingly, it's also very funny. Quinn got her start making goofy video games on the internet, and that sense of comedy shines through in her narration. While sometimes that comedic sensibility works against the dark subject matter, mostly it helps make the horrors she and others suffered a lot more bearable. To paraphrase Twain (badly), humor is one of the great weapons against evil.
And there's a lot of evil in this book. Even with the humor, Crash Override is a hard read. I'll never understand the callous disregard GG had for the personhood of their targets, for all of Quinn's efforts to try and contextualize it. The disconnect social media brings can only explain so much. My point here, I suppose, is that while the prose is breezy and sometimes even fun, the subject matter is not. At times, this book is exhausting.
If Crash Override has a flaw, it's in the drier sections towards the middle of the book. Despite Quinn's efforts to inject a little dark humor into her book, parts of it become a bit of a slog. A related problem is that sometimes the humor simply falls flat. That's not surprising either--laying jokes around a group that regularly calls the cops on people in an attempt to get them shot is going to get difficult after a while--but it's worth mentioning all the same.
Quinn ends the book by discussing her return to game design and her decision to move away from activism, and I can't blame her at all. Frankly, I would've ducked out a lot sooner or just snapped entirely. It's framed as a victory for Quinn and a return to normalcy. No one should have to refocus their entire life around fighting harassment, I'll agree with that, yet it left me with an odd sense of foreboding. Zoe Quinn wrote this book to give us the tools to fight this battle ourselves. There's beauty in that, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Who's next? It could be anyone, and they'll convince themselves it's all okay.
It's just somebody on a screen, after all.
We're not talking about real people. Because if Zoe Quinn was real, Gamergate, if you ever let yourself take her words at face value, if you entertained a single doubt, then...well.
You'd be monstrous.
And that's why August never ends.
Anyway, I was there when it happened. I remember when the first reports came out with scarce information, and I briefly joined the dogpile without knowing any better. What dogpile? The thing they called Gamergate--the waking nightmare that this book is about. Chances are, you know something about that trash fire if you're here reading a review. Maybe, like myself, you've been following it from the beginning. Maybe you heard about it on NPR, or through any of the other usual author circuits.
Crash Override doesn't have a "normal" structure, as far as these things go. It's partially a memoir, sure, but it's partly a guide to the way internet harassment works and to surviving it. Sure, it begins where you'd expect it to--with the first shots fired by Quinn's creeper of an exe--but it flashes back and forth between Quinn growing up, the dawn of the campaign against her, and the present weirdness of her life. It's about harassment, sure, but it's also a personal piece on growing up creative, queer, and pissed off on the internet.
Surprisingly, it's also very funny. Quinn got her start making goofy video games on the internet, and that sense of comedy shines through in her narration. While sometimes that comedic sensibility works against the dark subject matter, mostly it helps make the horrors she and others suffered a lot more bearable. To paraphrase Twain (badly), humor is one of the great weapons against evil.
And there's a lot of evil in this book. Even with the humor, Crash Override is a hard read. I'll never understand the callous disregard GG had for the personhood of their targets, for all of Quinn's efforts to try and contextualize it. The disconnect social media brings can only explain so much. My point here, I suppose, is that while the prose is breezy and sometimes even fun, the subject matter is not. At times, this book is exhausting.
If Crash Override has a flaw, it's in the drier sections towards the middle of the book. Despite Quinn's efforts to inject a little dark humor into her book, parts of it become a bit of a slog. A related problem is that sometimes the humor simply falls flat. That's not surprising either--laying jokes around a group that regularly calls the cops on people in an attempt to get them shot is going to get difficult after a while--but it's worth mentioning all the same.
Quinn ends the book by discussing her return to game design and her decision to move away from activism, and I can't blame her at all. Frankly, I would've ducked out a lot sooner or just snapped entirely. It's framed as a victory for Quinn and a return to normalcy. No one should have to refocus their entire life around fighting harassment, I'll agree with that, yet it left me with an odd sense of foreboding. Zoe Quinn wrote this book to give us the tools to fight this battle ourselves. There's beauty in that, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Who's next? It could be anyone, and they'll convince themselves it's all okay.
It's just somebody on a screen, after all.
We're not talking about real people. Because if Zoe Quinn was real, Gamergate, if you ever let yourself take her words at face value, if you entertained a single doubt, then...well.
You'd be monstrous.
And that's why August never ends.
April 24, 2018
This book surprised me. It's not very long, and it's a fast and at times harrowing read. Zoe Quinn was one of the first victims of the nasty Internet blowup from a few years ago known as Gamergate. Unfortunately, her life has changed forever because of it, and she admits she probably won't ever be the carefree, nerdy little game developer she once was. All because of a nasty ex-boyfriend and a slavering horde of sycophants who were all too eager to bring a torrent of abuse crashing down on Zoe's (and other people's) heads, for basically no reason. (I don't care if she did sleep with five guys--or any number of guys [which she didn't]--to get a review for her game. This in no way justifies the doxxing, the rape and death threats, the phone calls to her friends and family, the stain on her reputation, the lost jobs, and the overall vile actions of the mob.)
This book roughly splits the difference between a memoir--what happened to Quinn and how she dealt with it--and a how-to book--how you, as the reader, can protect yourself against online abuse. Some of it is pretty damn pessimistic, especially when the police and tech company representatives dole out such stupid advice as "If this is what the Internet is like, then get off it." That is nonsense. The focus should be on changing the culture and corraling the abusers, not letting them take over and harass people with impunity. I found the how-to chapters particularly interesting, full of practical and pragmatic advice. There is also advice for those who want to assist victims, starting with a simple bottom line: consent is key. Always let the victim set the boundaries of what should be done and when, or anything at all.
At the end of this book, Quinn shows how she is beginning to recover, even going back to making games again. I feel for her, and wish her well. She's managed to take a bunch of rotten lemons and make some tasty lemonade, but I certainly wish it hadn't been necessary.
This book roughly splits the difference between a memoir--what happened to Quinn and how she dealt with it--and a how-to book--how you, as the reader, can protect yourself against online abuse. Some of it is pretty damn pessimistic, especially when the police and tech company representatives dole out such stupid advice as "If this is what the Internet is like, then get off it." That is nonsense. The focus should be on changing the culture and corraling the abusers, not letting them take over and harass people with impunity. I found the how-to chapters particularly interesting, full of practical and pragmatic advice. There is also advice for those who want to assist victims, starting with a simple bottom line: consent is key. Always let the victim set the boundaries of what should be done and when, or anything at all.
At the end of this book, Quinn shows how she is beginning to recover, even going back to making games again. I feel for her, and wish her well. She's managed to take a bunch of rotten lemons and make some tasty lemonade, but I certainly wish it hadn't been necessary.
April 19, 2018
Wow, I legit could not put this book down. I already knew a lot about GamerGate (having been targeted by it myself), but I learned a lot about Zoe Quinn and about the larger problem of online abuse. She provides enough information about her life to contextualize her experience, but most of the book is about Crash Override (the group she started to help other survivors of online abuse), online abuse dynamics, and advice for anyone who wants to help make things better.
She also frequently discusses how online abuse disproportionally affects people of color and trans people (and notes that interviews with her often omit the parts where she talks about this), criticizes potential solutions that are likely to further harm POC and trans people (such as more criminalization of online abuse), and includes lengthy quotes from POC, including trans people, discussing their experiences with online abuse and how to stop it. Her list of further reading at the end of the book features mostly people of color.
Quinn is much more nuanced than anyone would expect if they’ve only heard about her from others, and emphasizes the need to avoid thinking about online abuse in terms of “good people” vs “bad people.” On top of all that, there are a lot of bits of genuine humor in this book, which makes it easier to read about such a difficult and terrifying topic.
This is a must-read for anyone who uses social media, advocates for social justice, works with or knows any kind of abuse survivor (as these dynamics transcend the Internet), or designs software or social networks. So, basically everyone. Just read it.
She also frequently discusses how online abuse disproportionally affects people of color and trans people (and notes that interviews with her often omit the parts where she talks about this), criticizes potential solutions that are likely to further harm POC and trans people (such as more criminalization of online abuse), and includes lengthy quotes from POC, including trans people, discussing their experiences with online abuse and how to stop it. Her list of further reading at the end of the book features mostly people of color.
Quinn is much more nuanced than anyone would expect if they’ve only heard about her from others, and emphasizes the need to avoid thinking about online abuse in terms of “good people” vs “bad people.” On top of all that, there are a lot of bits of genuine humor in this book, which makes it easier to read about such a difficult and terrifying topic.
This is a must-read for anyone who uses social media, advocates for social justice, works with or knows any kind of abuse survivor (as these dynamics transcend the Internet), or designs software or social networks. So, basically everyone. Just read it.
February 4, 2018
TW: This is a book about harassment, so it's really intense and not particularly easy to read. If you are a harassment, assault, or violence victim, you might not feel comfortable reading it.
While I found myself agreeing with most of the statements Zoë Quinn made in this book, halfway through I also had to take a huge breather and a break because it was (mentally) too much to handle.
This might make you lose some of the faith you (still) have in humanity and wonder why people are garbage; but it will also make you think about what we, internet humans, can do as a community to defeat online hate. It was surprising and humbling to read about her belief in restorative justice and the importance of rehabilitation.
Something I particularly liked: while she is a cisgender white woman, Zoë also gave space in her book to other voices that are unlike her. She makes a lot of good points about racial discrimination in America, while also understanding that as non-PoC she is unqualified to write or talk about it and is, to a certain extent, also part of the problem.
I also think a lot of people will benefit from Quinn's tips when it comes to being hacked, doxed, or having your privacy violated — how to avoid it in the future, how to prevent it from happening, or how to generally deal with the aftermath.
While I found myself agreeing with most of the statements Zoë Quinn made in this book, halfway through I also had to take a huge breather and a break because it was (mentally) too much to handle.
This might make you lose some of the faith you (still) have in humanity and wonder why people are garbage; but it will also make you think about what we, internet humans, can do as a community to defeat online hate. It was surprising and humbling to read about her belief in restorative justice and the importance of rehabilitation.
Something I particularly liked: while she is a cisgender white woman, Zoë also gave space in her book to other voices that are unlike her. She makes a lot of good points about racial discrimination in America, while also understanding that as non-PoC she is unqualified to write or talk about it and is, to a certain extent, also part of the problem.
I also think a lot of people will benefit from Quinn's tips when it comes to being hacked, doxed, or having your privacy violated — how to avoid it in the future, how to prevent it from happening, or how to generally deal with the aftermath.
September 8, 2017
I respect Quinn as a creator and an online personality; that said, I'm not sure this book is for me. A lot of it is spent on the basics of internet hate and intersectionality, and while I get that this is clearly important to a lay audience, I could do without it.
I was a bit (though not completely) surprised at her portrait of institutional inertia and even hostility in terms of shutting down abuse.
What I found most interesting is the answer to the question I always ask: how does she keep living a normal-ish life? And the answer is important: (1) she kind of doesn't and (2) she has learned about harassment and weaponized that knowledge to help other people fight it. It's inspiring, or whatever.
But my favorite part was the empathy. She acknowledges her own distant past as an internet garbage-person, and our whole generation was once internet garbage-people. Her goal is to protect, but her method is to understand and persuade. There's a timely focus on sincere and direct communication that's shocking and heartening.
I was a bit (though not completely) surprised at her portrait of institutional inertia and even hostility in terms of shutting down abuse.
What I found most interesting is the answer to the question I always ask: how does she keep living a normal-ish life? And the answer is important: (1) she kind of doesn't and (2) she has learned about harassment and weaponized that knowledge to help other people fight it. It's inspiring, or whatever.
But my favorite part was the empathy. She acknowledges her own distant past as an internet garbage-person, and our whole generation was once internet garbage-people. Her goal is to protect, but her method is to understand and persuade. There's a timely focus on sincere and direct communication that's shocking and heartening.
October 17, 2017
I was expecting more of a memoir out of this, but pleasantly, Crash Override analyzes and offers suggestions of how to fight the internet hate machine. Quinn is also aware that POC and trans people have long gotten attacked in this fashion before she has, and uplifts by ceding the 'mic' to marginalized voices on experiences & the importance of community. Her organization, Crash Override Network (named in reference to the Hackers movie) provides support work for internet abuse victims, and helps with documentation, filing reports on the myriad of websites abusers use, etc.
Quick read. At a little over 200 pages, it's not a comprehensive analysis of every single thing that happened (and I'd guess other writers will document that at some point), but it's a great overview & more importantly, a toolbook to use in this current era of fake news and twitterbots.
Quick read. At a little over 200 pages, it's not a comprehensive analysis of every single thing that happened (and I'd guess other writers will document that at some point), but it's a great overview & more importantly, a toolbook to use in this current era of fake news and twitterbots.
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