A brief vibration. Nothing unusual, you think. Then you read the words: “We know where you live.” No name, no recognisable sender – only a vague threat appearing in the most private place imaginable: your screen. Around you, everyone is staring at their devices, scrolling, typing and laughing into their headphones. Nobody notices that your hands have started to shake.
You lock your phone, unlock it again and read the message once more. Maybe it is a stupid joke? Maybe it was sent to the wrong person? Yet at the same time, a feeling crawls up your back – one that does not disappear easily. The unsettling awareness that someone is sitting behind those words. Someone who knows more about you than you would like.
For a moment, you think: “This happens to other people, not me.” That is exactly where the problem starts.
Digital violence starts where we should feel safe
Digital violence can sound like an unwieldy term, something involving hackers in Hollywood films or extreme cases in court. In reality, it often starts far more quietly: in the family group chat where a screenshot is passed around; on Instagram, where an ex-partner does not delete old pictures but sends them on; or in the work chat, where a “joke” at your expense is posted one time too many.
We live much of our everyday lives through screens, often without noticing it. Chat windows, forums, dating apps and games: all these spaces can feel private, like a digital back garden. This is precisely where violence becomes invisible, because it leaves no bruises. It leaves sleeplessness, shame and that quiet instinct to share less in the next post.
A 17-year-old girl – let us call her Melina – suddenly receives nude photos of herself. Months earlier, she had willingly sent the images to her boyfriend at the time. Now they are appearing in a WhatsApp group at her school. At first, it is “only” a few boys. Then come the screenshots. Then the memes. Melina still attends school, but inwardly she has already checked out. She sits in class, staring at the whiteboard, thinking only about which classmates can feel their phones in their pockets at that very moment.
Statistically, this is not an isolated case. Studies in Germany show that a large proportion of young people have already experienced digital harassment, stalking or bullying. Many never speak about it. The boundaries become blurred: is it still “only online”, or is it already real violence? If you fall asleep every night with your heart racing because your phone has become a threat, that distinction eventually feels cynical.
Digital violence is so powerful because it combines two things: proximity and invisibility. Perpetrators are not sitting in a dark park; they are sitting on the sofa, perhaps two streets away, perhaps in another country. They attack while you are in bed or travelling on the train. Often, they would smile politely if you met them in person.
At the same time, much of it remains unseen. No neighbour hears screams and no colleague sees bruises. Chat histories can be deleted, profiles can be anonymous and threats can vanish from the screen within seconds. But the consequences remain: a distorted self-image, paranoia and the feeling of being watched all the time. Let us be honest: nobody clears out their old messages every day, even though they can sometimes contain enough to tear a life apart.
What you can do about digital violence – even if you think you are “not affected”
The first step may sound unremarkable: change the language. Instead of saying, “She is just being bullied,” say, “Someone is experiencing digital violence.” The difference is small, but it changes something in our thinking. Violence does not sound like teenage drama; it sounds like something we need to take seriously. That creates a different kind of conversation, whether it is within a family, among friends or in a team chat.
The second step is this: screenshots are not merely embarrassing; they are evidence. When threats, coercion, humiliation or the publication of intimate images occur, messages should be saved. The date, time and profile name can all matter later in court or at a support service. That moment of “I only saw it briefly and then it was gone” is exactly why many cases can no longer be resolved.
One common mistake is that those affected believe they have to be “strong” and endure everything alone. “It is only online”, “I will just ignore it”, “I do not want to cause drama”. Support services hear these phrases every day. Shame often lies behind them, as does the fear that parents or managers will respond by imposing restrictions: taking away the phone, deleting apps or closing the profile. That can feel like a second punishment.
A more helpful response is to ask questions rather than make judgements. “What exactly happened?” instead of “Why did you send that photo in the first place?” Anyone who has experienced being believed is more likely to speak up sooner next time. And yes, even bystanders matter. If you are in a group where somebody is being humiliated, you are not neutral. A short sentence such as “Delete that, this has gone too far” can shift the dynamic before it escalates.
Digital violence needs silence in order to grow. That is exactly where our opportunity lies.
“Online is not another planet. What we do to people there follows them into real beds, real dreams and real panic attacks.”
A few practical measures that are often underestimated:
- Block accounts consistently – not as a sign of weakness, but as a way of setting a boundary.
- Save chat histories and threats locally rather than leaving them only in the app.
- Actively ask friends not to forward sensitive content, even “as a joke”.
- Know support services and reporting channels before you need them.
- Set clear rules in teams and families: what is funny, and what is violence?
Why digital violence concerns all of us – even if we are only scrolling
Perhaps you have never received a threatening message yourself. Perhaps you have been fortunate, or move in relatively protected spaces. Even so, you are part of the system in which digital violence operates. Every like beneath a spiteful comment, every forwarded embarrassing screenshot and every silent decision to look away reinforces the environment in which perpetrators feel safe.
We all know that moment when a screenshot appears in a group chat and everyone briefly giggles. Then it goes quiet. Instinctively, you sense that a boundary has been crossed, but say nothing – out of convenience or fear of spoiling the mood. Those few seconds can determine whether the person at the other end feels helpless, or whether someone stands up for them, even with a simple “Everyone, not cool”.
Digital violence is not a fringe issue for “sensitive” people. It is the echo of how we, as a society, deal with power, shame, intimacy and public exposure. It affects far more than young girls: it also affects men, queer people, people with migrant backgrounds, journalists and local councillors. Anyone who thinks it does not concern them has, above all, one privilege: they have been spared so far. A single message can change that.
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Digital violence is real violence | It leaves psychological traces rather than visible injuries | Understands why “only online” is not a harmless space |
| Documenting early offers protection | Screenshots, dates and saved chats are evidence | Has something to rely on in a serious situation – with the police or a support service |
| Bystanders have power | Reactions in group chats and feeds can stop harmful dynamics | Recognises their own role and becomes a protective influence rather than a silent observer |
FAQ:
- Question 1 What exactly counts as digital violence?
- Answer 1 This includes cyberbullying, stalking through apps, publishing or forwarding intimate images without consent, threats, blackmail using private data, hateful comments and targeted defamation on social networks.
- Question 2 When should I seek help?
- Answer 2 As soon as you notice that messages, posts or chats are affecting you, that you are sleeping badly, feel afraid of certain apps or have significantly changed your behaviour, it is worth talking to someone – trusted people, support services or, in an emergency, the police.
- Question 3 Is it my own fault if I sent intimate photos?
- Answer 3 No. Responsibility always lies with the person who stores, forwards or publishes the images without consent. Sharing them consensually in a relationship is not an invitation to violence.
- Question 4 Does it help to simply block all perpetrator accounts?
- Answer 4 Blocking can relieve some immediate pressure and is a sensible step. Alongside this, evidence should be saved and, depending on the severity, support services, platform operators or the police should be contacted.
- Question 5 What can I do if I witness a digital attack?
- Answer 5 You can message the person affected directly and offer support, save the chat history, set clear boundaries in the group (“Stop, this is violence”) and report content through the platform’s reporting functions.
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