Like many students across campus, the residents of Freshman-Sophomore College (FroSoCo) awoke with a start on Valentine’s Day morning as sophomores and staff members rolled the dorm’s freshmen out of bed at 7 a.m. Students emerged from their rooms, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes, for breakfast and a small celebration, a longstanding Stanford tradition.

But this year, talk of the tradition — cherished by some and cursed by others — escalated beyond a few hallway mutterings. Through the dorm’s listserv, students exchanged a series of emails that became increasingly hostile.

“Maybe you enjoyed the hell out of it, but does that justify what it does to everyone else? I’m finding it hard to understand why your special little experience requires that I get woken up at 7:30,” snapped one student.

His remarks immediately antagonized other members of the dorm.

Thank you for the insults,” one student wrote sarcastically. “I’m also sure the staff, the sophomores, the boys (from last year) and everyone who has ever done this in the past really appreciates it.”

Students read on in amazement as the fight escalated. Ultimately, dorm administrators chose to moderate the listserv in an effort to end the bickering.

The email exchange started out politely, but it just got completely out of hand,” said Ming Jia ‘10, a resident of FroSoCo. “Sure, the original complaint was justified, but the subsequent exchanges that took place were just unnecessary and inappropriate. I mean, I love all my dormmates — just resolve this kind of stuff privately.”

The technology boom of the last two decades has given the Internet an integral role in the Stanford community. Email is a primary medium through which campus groups publicize upcoming events and students converse with their peers and professors. Undoubtedly, this technology has revolutionized the way in which we communicate, yet — as the story of FroSoCo’s chatlist squabbles demonstrates — not all changes have been for the best. Cyberspace, it seems, has a tendency to elicit statements of extreme anger and harsh criticism — what researchers call “flaming.”

Psychologists attribute this phenomenon — the online disinhibition effect — to two unique aspects of the Internet: anonymity and invisibility. The perception that one’s identity is hidden, beyond discovery, becomes intoxicating; people can express how they truly feel without worrying about being held personally accountable for what they say.

The Stanford Daily’s Web site is one online forum that struggles with flaming as a result of anonymity. Any visitor to the Web site can comment on any story; though they must provide an email address, their identities remain anonymous.

Toward the end of October, articles about an attempted Branner reunion sparked a number of flaming online responses. Instances like these, which frequently devolve into personal attacks, have led The Daily editors to enact various changes on its Web site. Readers now have the option to report comments as offensive and request their removal. Additional changes are being considered to filter out online comments that would not be allowed to run on the opinions page of the newspaper.

Nonetheless, the forum is still an outlet for unconstructive negativity.

Emma Trotter ‘10 has written over 20 articles for The Daily this year, but because of the anonymous Web site commenting feature, the experience has not been all positive. An anonymous poster once labeled her piece in Intermission “the stupidest column I’ve ever read, or at least tried to read.”

“I don’t sit there and dwell on it,” said Trotter, “but it hurts when someone says, ‘that was really pointless’ because I did spend two hours on it.”

Researchers believe flamers can be motivated by a number of different reasons.

“Flaming can be a way to reduce anxiety, so that may be the case for these students,” said fifth-year graduate student in psychology Michelle Gumbrecht, a specialist in the psychology of cyberspace, as she looked over the Web site.

“For some people, it’s to pass the time,” she said. “For others, it’s entertainment, a kind of escapism.”

Even without the security of an anonymous post, invisibility alone, like on a dorm listserv, can be enough to generate flames. Facial expressions — which are absent in online dialogue — often serve as a reminder to repress inappropriate behavior.

“It could just be the medium, the fact that you’re lacking these visual cues, such as ‘here we are in a face-to-face conversation.’ Would it necessarily be different if we were doing this through e-mail?” asked Gumbrecht.

The Internet, though, should not be held responsible for all the anger it generates.

“If you look at discussions that have these religious and political overtones — if you put that in any sort of medium,” she said,” then those things are going to come out anyway.”

As one of Roble Hall’s two RCCs, Jeremy Hoffman ‘07 frequently witnesses the effects of online disinhibition. Several weeks ago, he was forced to temporarily censor the dorm’s listserv when a fight broke out over what constituted an appropriate chatlist message.

“The irony of anti-spamming spam,” Hoffman laughed.

The decision to suspend the chatlist came when several students began to use profanity.

“This sort of thing happens a few times every year,” Hoffman said. “The bigger the dorm, the worse it gets. Roble is a unique combination of too many freshmen with time on their hands, and too many upperclassmen who look down on freshmen.”

“And with email chat lists,” he added, “it’s dangerously easy to type first and think second.”

Psychologists claim that it is rarely the entire community at fault — only a certain subset of people.

“Text has that sense of permanency, talking is more ephemeral — it’s public, especially with discussion lists, and the exposure is longer,” said Gumbrecht. “Some people really do want to get a rise out of someone, and, well, this is one of the best ways to do it.”

Hoffman’s experience has been similar; in every dorm, there are always a few “chatlist repeat offenders.”

“Some people think their opinions or their clever witticisms are so radiant that they would be doing a disservice to the community not to give it to everyone who’s willing to listen,” he said, smiling wryly. “I think I’m a little bit more humble than that.”

Contact Marissa Miller at marissamiller10@