By Dan McGarry 

A recent post on the PiPP website discussing social networks in Vanuatu is titled in part ‘Social networks with a conscience’. It looked at the recent rise in local Facebook activity by and showed compelling evidence that, despite a vastly under-serviced population, ni-Vanuatu are still leveraging social media to discuss social and political change.

The speed with which Facebook has been appropriated by young ni-Vanuatu (nearly 70% of all Vanuatu Facebook users are under 35) is truly remarkable. Indeed, the number and variety of Facebook Vanuatu-focused pages and groups is a close reflection of the wide range of affiliations and interests that characterises its society.

The melding of online shorthand (‘lol’ and other related bits of written semaphore) with Bislama and several other local languages strongly suggests that Facebook is being quickly and closely woven into the social fabric. For example, the expression ‘yu save finis’ – a humourous Bislama expression reminiscent of Monty Python’s famous ‘nudge nudge wink wink’ – has been shortened to ‘sae vnis’. ‘Wanem’ – Bislama for ‘what’ – is often abbreviated to ‘1m’.

As with all forms of expression, social media use in Vanuatu exposes both the best and the worst of its society. In a March 2010 column in the Vanuatu Daily Post, I looked at a tragic case of ‘village justice’, in which two brothers accused of sorcery and ‘posen’ (the traditional practice of subtle murder using local toxins) were tracked from their home village of Kaiovo on Maewo island to Lolowei hospital on neighbouring Ambae island:

Before long, a caller from Maewo ascertained the brothers’ presence in Ambae, and a motor boat was dispatched. Reports estimate that up to a dozen men armed with axes and bush knives arrived at Lolowei. They proceeded to the outpatient clinic and promptly murdered the first brother. Stunned onlookers watched as they struck him dead, then dragged his corpse down to the shore, mocking and abusing it as they went. The second brother met the same fate soon afterward.

Within hours of the events, the story began to spread that accusations of sorcery and murder were the cause of this tragic episode.

In this case, it was the widespread availability of mobile phones that allowed vigilantism to spread beyond the confines of the village. But given the close relationship between calling, texting and online activity, it is hardly controversial to suggest that such social phenomena are equally expressible via Facebook and other online resources.

Mob behaviour is hardly unique to Vanuatu, of course. In the same column, I recounted other examples of such activity:

The same week this story emerged, Internet pundits noted the rise of a pernicious and dangerous trend in online ‘crowd sourcing’ behaviour. People in China have taken to organising themselves to avenge various social transgressions. Using social networking tools, they identify and publicly shame people who, they claim, have committed various acts of cruelty and callousness.

In one case, a Chinese woman posted a video of herself as she tortured and killed a kitten with her stiletto heels. Indignant viewers tracked down personal details including her name, address and employer and began a harassment campaign that culminated in her flight into hiding.

Technology can change lives, but it does little to change human nature.

PiPP’s annual surveys measuring the social effects of mobile telecommunications in Vanuatu demonstrate clearly that one of the primary benefits of ubiquitous mobile services is to reinforce social bonds and to sustain them over distance.

But social dynamics are equally capable of expressing both regressive and progressive tendencies. In practice, they are more effective as platforms for emotion than reason. Facebook in particular is a medium designed to facilitate ‘quick hits’ of information rather than longer, more nuanced communication. Posts are short and often pointed. Comment size typically ranges between nearly semaphoric expostulations (“LOL!!”) and a bare sentence or two of unsupported assertion.

The dearth of research and opinion authored by and for ni-Vanuatu further exacerbates this effect. In short, people have few authoritative sources to link to when communicating with others. Conversations float, un-referenced and un-contextualised.

But the purpose of this note is not to derogate Facebook’s value. It is to observe, rather, that the vast majority of human interaction – online and off – consists of such brief, emotive exchanges. This has always been the stuff of which social solidarity is woven. For better and for worse.

Looking abroad, so-called ‘Twitter revolutions’ like the Arab Spring and Iran’s abortive Green Uprising show that social networks were more often used to mobilise people than to express the underlying ideas that united them. (Naïve observers of the Occupy movement wrongly interpreted this phenomenon to mean that the movement had no focus.)

Facebook, Twitter and related services, therefore, serve a logistical purpose more often than a philosophical one.

In Vanuatu, this is best exemplified by the recent ‘outing’ of a young woman who’d been accused of prostituting herself. A Facebook group[1] recently featured the uploaded photo of the woman. Although it was cropped to hide most of her body, the clear suggestion was that she was nude.

Immediately, the comments began to pile in. Within 48 hours, over 300 comments had been posted. The vast majority castigated – and often ridiculed – the woman. Some suggested that copies of her photo be printed out and posted around her neighbourhood. Many of the comments were shockingly vulgar. Happily, very few recommended physical confrontation, and a notable minority expressed sympathy and the desire to provide counsel and guidance. The resemblance to the dialogue one often sees in a village or family meeting was striking.

In tightly-knit communities such as Vanuatu’s, social opprobrium is a fickle and sometimes violent tool. Equally important, though, is the fact that this same social dynamism can, as ‘Social networks with a conscience’ suggests, become a crucial catalyst for positive change.

But let’s be clear: Facebook and co. are primarily forums for like-minded people to come together. They are the catalysts, not the agents, of social change.

Debate, when it comes – if it comes – will almost certainly take place elsewhere. Last November’s Youth Against Corruption forum, held at Chiefs’ Nakamal in Port Vila, provides a possible model for twinning debate and discussion with the wide-casting capabilities of online social media. Throughout the two-day event, youth volunteers maintained a constant online presence. At the venue itself, they installed an ad hoc media centre, including free-access PCs, a donated Internet link, live video feed, a Facebook page and a dedicated website.

The impact of this anti-corruption event has yet to make itself evident, but as Vanuatu moves closer to national elections in 2012, policy-makers and political observers alike would do well to pay close attention. ‘Social networks with a conscience’ rightly observes that politicians are notably absent from this dialogue. With them or without them, the use of social media will only intensify in the months and years to come.