If there were no consequences to committing a crime, would you still commit it?
It’s a question that splits people into two. Some would say yes—freedom without punishment sounds tempting. Others would say no; a crime is a crime whether someone is watching or not.
What if I told you that a new form of criminal already exists? One who hides behind a screen fueled by envy, anger, and resentment. One who could be me, you, or the person scrolling right after you.
Welcome to the world of Trolling.
The internet defines trolling as “making a deliberately offensive or provocative online post to upset someone or elicit an angry response from them.” Most trolls aren’t random. They’re strategic. Every post, reply, or thread is calculated to spark a reaction—to catch the target person off guard, make them act out of character, ruin their day, or prove a point.
Trolling, in its purest form, is a performance. It requires timing, wordplay, research, and a sense of control to touch a nerve. All of which encompass the traits of what we now call a keyboard warrior, a digital soldier of the chaos army, categorised by sarcasm, screenshots, and anonymity, to fulfill a hate strategy.
The focus today is to answer the question, “Why do people become trolls in the first place?”
I recently watched the Netflix documentary “Unknown Number: High School Catfish.” To summarize, it is a story about a teenage girl who was being cyberbullied and harassed online for two years, only to discover that her own mother was behind the account putting her through so much torment this whole time.
The same person who was her source of comfort was the reason why she needed it in the first place.
When I told my mother, she was stunned. “Who would do such a thing to their own daughter?”
But maybe that’s the wrong question we are asking. Maybe there’s a better one: What happens when a screen becomes a mirror and we stop recognizing the reflection staring back at us?
Now here is my thesis.
Mirrors are one of humanity’s transformative inventions. They allow us to view ourselves but also reinforce the idea of another version of ourselves. This phenomenon is called mirrored self-misidentification;the belief that your reflection is not you but someone else entirely.
The internet functions as the same kind of mirror. Behind the glow of the screen, people begin to separate themselves into two beings: one who lives by a moral code and social rules and one who feels invisible–free from consequences, judgment, and restraint.
The existence of these two beings is a result of what psychologists call the “Alter Ego effect,” popularized by studies like the “Batman Effect” (AcademicOup,2025). Alter egos may lean in either direction of the negative-positive index. For some people, this “hero self” makes them stronger, braver, and more risk-adverse. Reversibly, an alter ego can become the “shadow self” part of the psyche that releases everything society says must be hidden, aka taboo habits (NeuroLaunch, 2024). In digital spaces, this can mean cruelty disguised as comedy or hate framed as “just an opinion.”
Online, this shadow takes the form of trolling. Showcasing negative emotions unfiltered toward whatever controversial topic you have.
Now, remember the question I asked in the beginning? The truth is, many already have-not with weapons, but with words
When anonymity removes accountability, people feel a compulsion to explore the forbidden emotions, particularly anger, jealousy, and superiority. NetPsychology.org (2024) reports that approximately 70% of internet users report being more assertive or aggressive online when using anonymous accounts. Even with people who are normally non-violent, anonymity can unleash antisocial actions, as explored by an Achology (2023) study. When the mask is on, the rules disappear.
This has been suggestively linked to the Digital Inhibition Effect and dissociative imagination, where people mentally separate digital actions from moral responsibility, hence people will more likely commit the crime (John Schuler,2004). An online platform just provides the perfect crime scene.
Classic psychological experiments have already shown us this pattern. The Stanford Prison Experiment and Milgram’s obedience studies revealed how role-playing and authority can override morality. The same effect occurs online, at an amplified distance, reach, and audience size.
Behind every troll is someone who’s lost sight of the fact that their words still reach real people. The digital world may feel detached, but the pain it creates isn’t.
Trolls will never fully disappear. If differing opinions exist, conflict will follow. Understanding why people troll is the first step to addressing it. The internet didn’t make us cruel, but it mirrored what we’ve always been capable of: some see kindness and others see chaos.
What truly matters is that the reflections are ours, and even behind the screen, the mask is ours to remove.
REFERENCES
Achology. (2023). How anonymity increases aggression. Retrieved from https://www.achology.com
Listen-Hard. (2024). Shadow personas and the erosion of inhibition. Retrieved from https://www.listen-hard.com
MagnifyMind. (2022). Role-playing and moral detachment: Lessons from the Stanford Prison and Milgram studies.
NetPsychology.org. (2024). Online aggression and the dissociative imagination effect. Retrieved from https://www.netpsychology.org
AcademicOup (2025). “Batman Effect”: Improving Perseverance in Young Children. Child Development. Oxford Academic .
Neurolaunch. (2025). The neuroscience of hero and shadow alter egos. Retrieved from https://www.neurolaunch.com
John Schuler. (2004). The existence of digital inhibition effect and its impact on dissociative association. CyberPsychology & Behaviour.
OnlinePsychDegrees.org. (2023). Moral disengagement in digital spaces. Retrieved from https://www.onlinepsychdegrees.org