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[CONTENT WARNING: This paper contains graphic discussion of violence]

Abstract

The internet has fundamentally changed the way media is shared and received. Communities based on the archival and distribution of the most niche of content thrive in online spaces. This paper aims to explore and understand the internet subcultures surrounding the sharing of videos of real deaths and violence, detailing the foundations of these communities and examining the purpose of their existence through the lens of sociological theory.

introduction

Contemporary online communities are most often formed based on a shared interest (Delanty, 2018). From early internet forums to successors such as Reddit, as well as social media websites with dedicated “tag” systems (i.e., Tumblr) and highly tailored algorithmic apps like TikTok, the internet makes it possible to connect with people who share even the most niche of interests. Among these communities exist many platforms dedicated to the taboo interest of sharing and preserving death and gore videos; footage of real people dying or suffering brutal injury. These online communities have been a constant for several decades, but relatively little sociological analysis of the phenomenon has been documented. How and why do these communities form? And how do they differ from other online communities?

death on film: a brief history

            The Internet did not birth the viral death video; it has been a tradition since shareable home media, especially VHS, became widespread (Petley, 2016; Stokel-Walker, 2018). The most well-known example of such may be John Alan Schwartz’s 1978 “snuff” film Faces of Death – a compilation film containing scenes of graphic violence stitched together with a very loose fictional story – that was circulated on the black market from the late 1970s in horror and art film circles, but quickly gained notoriety with the general public too (Stokel-Walker, 2018). It is important to note that in the years since its virality, the crew of Faces of Death have revealed that a lot of the footage in the film, though not all of it, was fictitious (Navarro, 2018). Regardless, it appears to have always been about the possibility of the spectacle rather than the reality. More well-known films such as Cannibal Holocaust or The Blair Witch Project gained popularity not because of the quality of the production (which is relatively low in both cases), but because audiences thought the content was real, and that was enough to draw people into the spectacle (Walker, 2016). There is a considerable overlap between fans of fictional horror, and fans of real horror, something that appears even more prevalent with the rise in popularity of true crime content in the last decade or so, and as Mark Goodall (head of film and media at the University of Bradford) remarks:

People who watch Isis videos now, it’s the same thing. It’s like a horror. They’ve even choreographed it to be like a horror film, the way they’re shot, edited, and music added. That’s where they do connect with anxieties and play to society (Stolker-  Walker, 2018, p. 36)

            After Faces of Death, other films of this genre were distributed in much the same way, and a niche but passionate market formed, leading to a larger demand for this kind of content. The formation of Dead Alive, a film and magazine production company known for their Traces of Death (not to be confused with the aforementioned Faces of Death) real death film collections, grew the subculture further, becoming well-known among horror fans and collectors of “bad taste” films (Walker, 2016). Walker (2016) notes a comparison between the underground death film “fandom” and the rise in popularity of extreme metal bands, with both the films and the music relying on black market or underground distribution to gain reputation, and with the kind of culture both were associated with. Traces of Death, like extreme metal music, rejects all preconceived notion of what the medium should be, and is in direct opposition of mainstream media (Walker, 2016). In this way, the distribution of real death film becomes more important as a counter-cultural symbol than as simply shocking footage.

            In the mid-late 1990s, this kind of footage circulation evolved to exist online, where it was easier to distribute and find, and could be shared for free (Petley, 2016). Websites and file sharing services dedicated to the hosting of said footage cropped up, and the relatively unknown existence of these websites among the majority of internet users meant they were easy to bait the unsuspecting with. While the communities of avid death watchers existed, it is fair to say a good percentage of traffic to those websites were people clicking links they had been sent as a prank or were told to visit under false pretences; thus, the era of the “shock site” began (Schroeder, 2014; Lonergan, 2020).

entering the digital era

            The majority of the Internet’s most popular “shock sites” were built on the ideals of free speech. Rotten.com was one of the first of its kind and was launched in direct response to the United States Congress’ Communications Decency Act in the late 1990s (Schroeder, 2014), with the creator writing: “To censor this site, it is necessary to censor medical texts, history texts, evidence rooms, courtrooms, art museums, libraries, and other sources of information vital to functioning of free society” (Soylent, n.d., as cited in Brown, 2001). LiveLeak, another major shock website, represents itself as a hub of alternative, “real” news (Stryker, 2014). LiveLeak’s notoriety is mostly due to its mass hosting of war and terrorist footage, particularly those produced by groups such as ISIS, uploads of which are often supported by the moderators of the website as helping viewers to “pay more attention to what’s happening in far-flung places” (Stryker, 2014). The 2002 beheading of American journalist Daniel Pearl at the hands of terrorists in Pakistan was posted on the website and is routinely reuploaded should it ever be taken down, as a reminder to viewers of the brutality of militant groups in the Middle East, and of the consequences of extreme censorship (Petley, 2016). While the moderators of LiveLeak often try to stay neutral on the grounds of morality, there is some comparison to be made with figures like Julian Assange, who have leaked footage online of American and Australian war crimes against both prisoners of war and civilians in order to bring the perpetrators to justice (Stryker, 2014). While these kinds of websites were often not taken very seriously by their userbase, it is true that they may have had a significant role in keeping the Internet at the time a freer place, with many of them refusing to comply with decency laws in their respective countries and putting themselves at legal risk in order to protect the footage and those who wanted to see it (Khayambashi, 2021).

            Although war footage is a large portion of the death videos online, there are several major categories websites and forums are often sorted into. This is usually done by members of the community dedicated to the archival process, not unlike fans who cultivate wikis and fansites about more mainstream interests such as Star Wars or K-pop bands (Khayambashi, 2021). Searchable categories such as CCTV or dashcam footage of accidents or disasters, livestreamed suicides, bodycam footage of police shootouts, and leaked footage from murder cases and crime scenes are among the most common, exhibiting the diversity of the community’s interests and dedication to the preservation and continued accessibility of the content (Lonergan, 2020; Khayambashi, 2021). However, some would argue against the term “community” in this case. Aside from the occasional comment thread, sharing and requesting videos appears to be the extent of interaction between most of the users of these websites, with archival being the prominent focus (Khayambashi, 2021).

            In relation to categories, murder and suicide footage is some of the most sought-out content, and there are several cases of viral death videos that were constructed almost entirely for the perpetrators’ desire for fame and notoriety. In 2012, Canadian man Luka Magnotta was charged with first-degree murder and the publishing of obscene material (among other related charges) after he filmed and posted himself brutally killing and dismembering a Chinese international student named Jun Lin (Rose, 2014) with the intent to become famous as a result, a wish that was ultimately fulfilled the more the video spread online (Rose, 2014; Khayambashi, 2021). More recently, the man responsible for the Christchurch mosque shooting in 2020 livestreamed the attack and several mass shooters in other countries did the same in tribute (Mortensen, 2022). There is significant debate to be had about the ethics of this content being shared online, and an even larger debate to be had about whether or not the communities that exist to share the content may encourage the behaviour, intentionally or not.

alternative (un)realities

            Howard Rheingold referred to the Internet as an “alternative reality” (Delanty, 2018, p. 208) and said that, instead of being a place to extend existing communities, it “offered a new and fundamentally different level of interaction” (Delanty, 2018, p. 208). While Rheingold was writing about the Internet in 1993, when it was newly accessible to the public and vastly simpler than the networks we have today, the theory can still be observed. The internet provides a particular kind of anonymity for users, and this anonymity can “mask the reality of the viewer during their encounter with the image” (Jones, 2011, p. 124). Those viewing real death videos know the images are real, but it can be difficult for the brain to fully grasp the reality of it when viewed through the screen, and a lack of olfactory and tactile sensation enables us to put up an invisible barrier, somewhat fictionalising the events that are unfolding (Jones, 2011). In a similar vein to consuming pornography, the act of consuming gore or real death content becomes a sort of unspoken guilty pleasure for most, as it is easy enough to separate the self from the act of viewing the content (Tait, 2008; Jones, 2011). However, this does mean that the websites dedicated to death material are often littered with insensitive comments and hate speech, thus becoming a space not just to view the content, but also to mock the victims and enact verbal violence (Khayambashi, 2021). Several well-known death video host websites have been linked to far-right organisations, and some of those with heavier security are even known to accept far more nefarious content involving children and animals (Tait, 2008; Khayambashi, 2021). These websites occupy an interesting space online, as there is very little social aspect of the community, and yet there is somewhat of a culture associated with it.

current status

            Today, the viewing of gory content is still considered taboo, but there is a better understanding of why people are so morbidly curious about it. The popularity of true crime content, especially in the form of podcasts or Netflix documentaries (some of which even feature real death footage), have aided in normalising a fascination with the darker side of humanity (Petley, 2016). There is also evidence to suggest that younger generations are more desensitised to this kind of violent content due to the accessibility of it online, even on mainstream social media, and especially in wake of events such as 9/11 or the Russian invasion of Ukraine (Duncombe, 2020).  Even so, websites such as LiveLeak are being removed from the Internet, and platforms like Reddit continue to censor and ban real death content more than ever. However, shock content is still prevalent; in 2021, a TikTok video and all of its reuploads had to be removed from the app, as it cut from a clip of a girl dancing to a clip of a real beheading and was being reposted by other users faster than it could be deleted (Haasch, 2021). In its’ own way, this became a sort of fleeting community of TikTok users attempting to find and share the clip, as well as analyse where it was taken from. Even after the clip was taken down, there was discussion about it from all sorts of content creators on the app (Haasch, 2021). The Internet is ever evolving, and the way content is shared and consumed changes constantly, but there is one fact that cannot change: it is human nature to be curious about death, and about the human body (Lonergan, 2020). Like a car crash – and in this case, sometimes literally a car crash – it is difficult to look away. In an admittedly unethical way, the posting of shocking death videos, especially on apps with stricter rules like TikTok, is continuing a tradition of counter-cultural action in protest of censorship (Walker, 2016).

conclusion

            Online communities built on the sharing of real death footage are somewhat of an anomaly. Like the content they are viewing and exchanging, they do not adhere to any typical framework or ideals. But like the content, they adapt to changing technology, and likely will continue to do so. There remains a core belief of individual freedom, especially in regard to online activity, and perhaps this individualism is part of why these communities remain so small. Although the nature of the “underground” Internet is perpetually changing, there continues to be room for further discussion into the behaviours of these communities, particularly through a sociological lens.

 

 

 

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