[S]everal years ago, I was the subject of a thorough and costly doxxing by a fellow who was, apparently, upset that I’d criticized some ultra-crappy article he’d written for a startup web publication. He distributed a pretty wildly exaggerated report of every terrible thing I’ve ever done to some contacts he’d cultivated at a couple of auto manufacturers. The way I found out about this was by having my flight to a press event canceled while I was sitting in the airport lounge. I had the dubious pleasure of spending the next couple of days calling people to get the stories straightened out. It was frankly unpleasant, to put it mildly.
I have a pretty healthy dose of contempt for my little doxxer. There’s something uniquely duplicitous about telling a bunch of people that someone you hate is a violent, dangerous individual while simultaneously personally trusting that said individual won’t do anything violent or dangerous to you as a consequence for your actions. It’s a coward’s move, this doxxing. But most importantly, it’s a one-way kind of tool that is employed by a certain type of person against another type of person. Rarely are “doxxers” counter-doxxed. This is because the doxxers, almost without exception, haven’t ever done anything in their lives.
I’m not saying they haven’t done anything bad.
I’m saying they haven’t done anything. Good or bad. Noteworthy or otherwise. They’re people who have always run away from anything that looked like a challenge or a confrontation. And if you always run from a challenge, you’ll never put anybody in the hospital or on the LifeFlight, but you’ll also never win any races. You’ll never spend a night in jail for assault, but you’ll probably also never create anything unique or worthwhile. You’ll never do something you wish you could take back, but you’ll also never do something that you look back on with complete and utter satisfaction.
I dunno, Jack. Some of these guys seem awfully damned satisfied.