Trigger warning: various topics where trigger warnings are often used are discussed in this article, such as sexual assault, car crashes, trauma and PTSD, misogyny, the genocide of Palestinian people and burn-out.  

“Survival is the ability to swim in strange water.” – Ocean Vuong

When in January of 2022 the Dutch news exploded because of an expose on sexual assault that happened at The Voice of Holland, one of the most popular talent shows on national television, my social media feeds exploded too. In the spirit of #metoo, countless people started to open up about their own experiences. Every story, every post, every DM seemed to be about the crossing of boundaries, the conscious or subconscious breach of consent and the violations of people’s bodies and minds. These are extremely important topics that need to be talked about. People who have had these experiences deserve to know they are not alone and they deserve justice. However, it was also an overwhelming period for me, as this constant flow of messaging brought up a lot of emotions regarding my own experiences with the topic. In these moments, I could have used some trigger warnings – giving me the option to choose to engage with them or not, based on my emotional capacity. 

Wikipedia defines a trigger warning as “a warning that a work contains writing, images, or concepts that may be distressing to some people”. On social media platforms, users usually mention a trigger warning before they share their content, or at the beginning of the content, so users can stop engaging with it on time. 

Discussions on whether to include them in course material in educational contexts have been going on for years and the trigger warning has a history that originated long before the web. The most obvious example is the parental advisory guidelines for TV shows and films, which are used to warn parents of content that they might deem inappropriate for their children. A more recent example along these lines is Does the Dog Die, a community-based website, with a repository of films and TV shows and their potential triggers. Founder John Wipple writes that in 2023 “the site currently tracks over 180 categories of “triggers” [and] the number of requests for new trigger categories has swelled to 2,413.” According to him, “the data makes it obvious that there is an unmet need for very specific content warnings for all forms of entertainment. […] The reality is that terrible things happen to us all and we do our best to live one day at a time. Users of DoesTheDogDie are just trying to stay sane. In fact, [Wipple has] been contacted by several mental health professionals saying that they routinely recommend DoesTheDogDie as a resource to their clients.” 

In the introduction to Trigger Warnings: History, Theory, Context, which was published in 2017, Emily J M Knox mentions a paper by Chris Peterson that explains three different dimensions that often occur when people discuss trigger warnings. They are either seen as a way to protect people who have PTSD, a tool to inform yourself about a specific work and an acknowledgment of existing differences in experiences of social power, or as exposure therapy, a form of censorship, and something uncomfortable that is needed to be an educated person. These are similar to the arguments Wendy Wyatt presents in The Ethics of the Trigger Warning, in 2016. I am not particularly interested in the ‘is the fear of being offensive killing free speech’ debates that seem to drag on even now, almost 10 years later, or looking at this from such a binary perspective. What I would like to do, is share some thoughts on trigger warnings by reflecting on what it means to care about others and to take care of yourself in a time where crisis follows crisis, follows crisis, follows crisis, while we all seem to be stuck on the (social media) platform(s). 

 (Trigger) (Warnings) 

As always, it is important to look at the words we use to describe a phenomenon to see what political dimensions are ingrained in them, so we can strategize around them better. 

Trigger (noun): 1) to cause a strong emotional reaction of fear, shock, anger, or worry in someone, especially because they are made to remember something bad that has happened in the past 2) to cause something to start 3) a part of a gun that causes the gun to fire when pressed 

When looking at these three definitions together, and interpreting the gun as a metaphor for violence in the broadest sense, they could be interpreted in different ways. A trigger could be a catalyst of an emotional reaction related to something that happened in the past, with a connotation of violence. Or that something violent that has happened in the past is activated by something in the present, causing distress. 

Warning (noun): something that makes you understand there is a possible danger or problem, especially one in the future

To warn someone of something indicates that something negative can still be averted. Assuming that the warner warns because they do not want something bad to happen to the person they are warning, this indicates that they care about the person being warned. 

Before we dive into the politics of the trigger warning, we need to understand the politics of trauma first. The dictionary definition is as follows:

Trauma (noun): severe and lasting emotional shock and pain caused by an extremely upsetting experience, or a case of such shock happening

I could attempt to write an elaborate essay on the medical conditions related to trauma here as well, however, I am no medical expert and for sharing my thoughts on trigger warnings, how Staci K. Haines defines trauma in The Politics of Trauma is the most relevant:  

“Trauma is an experience, series of experiences, and/or impacts from social conditions, that break or betray our inherent need for safety, belonging, and dignity. They are experiences that result in us having to vie between our inherent needs, often setting one against the other. For example, it might leave us with the impact of “I can be safe but not connected (isolated),” or “I have to give up my dignity to be safe or connected.” This is untenable, because all of these needs are constitutive or inherent in us.”

She explains that when we are not successfully protected during traumatic events, those experiences are stored within ourselves, and therefore keep shaping our present experience in the world. Sometimes this results into people developing PTSD symptoms. Again, this is a wildly specific definition and only one interpretation of what trauma is. I can highly recommend reading more about the topic from different angles (in Haines her book or here, here or here to name a few examples, to gain a deeper understanding) and seeking out help if you think you might be suffering from trauma. It is important to note that trauma is not just something that randomly happens to people on an individual scale though. Trauma is not ‘bad luck’. It also stretches beyond the image you might have of veterans dealing with nightmares or adults suffering the consequences of being a child with violent parents. Trauma is highly political and happens in the context of oppressive systems, which is why it is so important to talk about this. Especially in our current times where genocide is being live-streamed on our smartphones every second of every day. Haines explains this process as follows: 

“Systemic trauma is the repeated, ongoing violation, exploitation, dismissal of, and /or deprivation of groups of people. State institutions economic systems, and social norms that systematically deny people access to safety, mobility, resources, food, education, dignity, positive reflections of themselves, and belonging have a traumatic impact on individuals and groups. […] This lack of safety, belonging, and dignity traumatically impacts individuals and whole groups of people. […] Like individual trauma, systemic trauma overwhelms and breaks down safety, connection, and dignity in the minds, bodies, and spirits of individuals and communities.”

Looking specifically at what a trauma trigger is then, to return to the original subject, Wikipedia defines it as follows: 

“A trauma trigger is a psychological stimulus that prompts involuntary recall of a previous traumatic experience.”

Trauma triggers could be anything, from a smell, place or word to something highly specific, as it is context-dependent. As someone who recently discovered they suffer from trauma, I can tell from experience that experiencing a trauma trigger is definitely something else than experiencing some discomfort or being upset – the effects can be both emotionally and physically destabilizing. 

With this lens, to warn someone of a possible trauma trigger, seems like a simple act of care then. Some might even argue that it is a moral duty to do so. And even if people are too indifferent to care, let’s be honest, at least in theory it is not that much to ask. However, things become more complicated when looking into what is happening through informal language. 

This is an edited summary of some of the definitions found on the Urban Dictionary: 

Triggered (adjective): being unreasonably upset, pissed off, annoyed or offended in a cringe way – often when social justice warriors or special snowflakes can’t take a joke  

“Lol this ‘feminazi’ is sooo triggered cus I told her to make me a sandwich!! Lol”

The discussions around triggers are blurred by default because of the language that concerns it is too. Being offended is not the same thing as being triggered, but in today’s language, they seem to have become interchangeable. What would you call a process where the word to describe your experience is now used against you, leaving you alienated and confused, perhaps even doubting your own experience? Conceptual gaslighting? I would like to make a humble attempt to free the trigger warning from these linguistic discussions, of what is politically correct or what should or should not be (freed from being) tone policed, and go back to the essence of what it means to witness something (online) in the context of trauma.

Refusing Witnessing  

Let’s discuss the moral implications when witnessing images of violence, war and suffering, or ‘the Pain of Others’ as Susan Sontag calls it. Sontag writes that “no ‘we’ should be taken for granted when the subject is looking at other people’s pain”. But that ‘we’ becomes even more blurry when we’re talking about the pain of others that is directly related to those witnessing something that relates to their own pain. Sontag states that  “an ample reservoir of stoicism is needed […] given the likelihood of seeing photographs that could make you cry [every morning].” She writes about newspapers here, so one can only conclude this is true for social media in quadruple. And what if those pictures could do more damage than to make you cry?

The original debate about witnessing the pain of others comes down to the following. Sontag writes that for a long time some people believed that if the horror could be made vivid enough, most people would finally take in the outrageousness, the insanity of war. I know multiple activists who make the conscious choice not to use trigger warnings when they share footage of the genocide in Palestine. Should those who live in the West, especially those who have never come close to war, have the privilege to be warned? They believe these horrors beyond comprehension should be witnessed and we should not look away. Sharing footage of what is happening means that they care about what happens in the world and that they are affected by those who are affected by this systematic trauma that is unfolding because they care about other people. And they want other people to care too. 

However, some people care so much and engage with this type of content so often, that instead of informing themselves and bringing them to take action, they start to suffer from it. When pro-Palestinian activists burn out, they cannot contribute to the cause. What if you need EMDR therapy, a type of therapy often used to treat trauma, yourself because you engaged with too much footage of Gaza, while editing it for it to be able to be spread around and witnessed? Could the witnessing of other people their trauma cause trauma to the witness? These are not new questions of course, as they were already raised when war footage was being shared in newspapers decades ago. But in the age of social media, it is worth to keep asking these questions. Especially in the context of trigger warnings, where I’m not trying to raise a discussion about what type of content should or shot not be shared, but who should be protected from it, and why and when. Who deserves protection from witnessing horrors and who does not? When is it functional to witness the pain of others and when does it defeat its purpose? When is it your moral duty and when is it wise to protect yourself from it? When should you refuse to witness and who has the moral grounds to do so?

Sontag also raised the question of whether or not an image retains the capacity to produce a strong emotion sidesteps the problem that having a strong emotion is not the same thing as having an understanding, and neither is the same as taking action. Maggie Nelson, in On Cruelty, writes about how the compulsion to repeat trauma in art can give someone a sense of control over it. Perhaps this is true for sharing triggering content as well – engaging with it feels better than ignoring it and could perhaps even be healing. But what does that mean in an age where there is so little opportunity for slow looking, reflection, and contemplation, as Nelson states? Have we arrived at a point where we don’t even blink an eye anymore when we see children getting bombed during our doom scroll in between skincare routine influencer content and memes? Have users stopped witnessing and are they just watching now? Is the gap between desensitized users and users who are at risk of actual trauma triggers growing, causing alienation to grow too?  

If it would be a simple question of whether or not it is a good thing to protect someone from a potential trauma trigger by adding a trigger warning, there should not even be a discussion about it. What makes this an urgent matter to reflect on, is the fact that this is all happening in the platformed society that we live in. 

Triggered by Design  

The infrastructures of the platforms these trigger warnings function in, the big tech social media platforms to be exact, play a huge role in the dynamics around these topics. On one hand one could argue that social media platforms are designed to be triggering; to make users feel ‘triggered’ and then make other users triggered because they are triggered, and so on. They are definitely not designed to protect those who might experience actual trauma triggers in this process. The more engagement content gets, the more time users spend on their platform, the more data they can sell, after all.

On the other hand, we need to talk about freedom of speech and censorship – but not in the way you think. I promised you I was not going to talk about the ‘you can’t say anything anymore’ thing wasn’t I? Sontag writes that when talking about the pain of others we witness, it is just as important to consider what is NOT being shown. I want to discuss content moderation protocols in social platforms that automatically flag certain content and give it a trigger warning – the ‘sensitive content’ label in Instagram for example, where content is hidden and you have to click on a button first before the content is revealed. The thing about this is, is that Instagram is a conservative, capitalist, imperialist, colonial, white supremacist, patriarchal, Western company. They use their community guidelines, which they say are there ‘to provide a safe environment for its users’, as a veil for a censorship tactic to push certain narratives to the front and make others disappear. Such as the pro-Palestinian users who are speaking out and are constantly reaching fewer followers, without any transparency regarding this process. I wrote about this more elaborately while discussing shadowbanning, which this automated trigger warning could be seen as a form of. 

What should we DO with all of this though? I feel like I’ve asked these questions 100 times already but I’m going to ask them again. Should we boycott big tech social media platforms and build our own? Build them on different values, such as care and protection? Features where potential triggers must be added before you are allowed to share something and where you are given the option to filter out content with certain triggers in your feed? What else could this look like? Designers step to the front, please. 

To warn or not to warn, to avoid or not to avoid

However, we are not living in a utopian world where all social media platforms are built to care for us yet, so until then, how do we navigate the present? In her introduction, Knox explains that she experiences some discomfort around trigger warnings, as they can be used as a tool for categorization, where objects are labeled either ‘good’ or ‘bad’. I would like to argue that it’s not as simple as that, or as binary. In her reflections, Nelson critically called it the “do-I-or-don’t-I-want-to-watch-this question”. Perhaps we need ‘can/should-I-or-can’t/shouldn’t-I-watch-this-in-this-in-this-moment questions’. Plural. So I leave you without closing remarks, and instead propose these open questions for those engaging with trigger warnings and those who want to take care of others and themselves, in the hopes they contribute to our ability to navigate swimming in strange waters.  

When you encounter a trigger warning:

• Am I inclined to avoid content related to the warning in question? Why? 
• Is the warning specific enough to inform me properly? 
• If it is not, am I comfortable taking the risk of encountering content that could possibly trigger me?
• How strong could my reaction be when encountering the content? 
• Do I have the capacity for such a reaction in case it happens? Do I know what I need in terms of care if it happens? Do I have people to support me in case it happens?
• Does the content relate to my own experiences or does it consider others?
• Will the content inform me of current events or experiences of others that are important to be aware of? 
• Have I been avoiding this topic or have I engaged with it frequently already? 
• Could I be confusing distress or danger with discomfort? Have I considered my privilege? 
• Could I be confusing discomfort with distress or danger? Have I considered my current mental state in relation to the content and should I consider protecting myself? 
• If I decide not to engage with this content, do I want to do so at a later time? 
• Is this warning human-made or automatically generated by the platform I am on? 
• If it is automatically generated, what values does the platform operate on and what could that mean for this warning and my choice in engaging with its content or not?
  

When you consider using a trigger warning:

• Who is this trigger warning for, who am I trying to protect and why? 
• Is the way I worded my trigger specific enough for people to be properly informed about the possible risk? 
• Should I make a distinction in my warning, addressing the people who I am trying to protect by informing them of the risks and the people I do want to look at the content? 
• Could the content I want to share possibly be flagged by content moderation systems in the platform I am using?
• Should I consider using alternative tactics to make sure the content I want to share reaches people? 

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A thank you to the colleagues, comrades and friends who helped me shape my thoughts around this topic; Geert Lovink, Niek Heijne, Liyah Park, Lucija Pelicaric, Frederieke van Wijk, and Pleun Westendorp, among others. 

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Works Cited

“I Spoil Movies and I’m Proud of It.” Does the Dog Die, www.doesthedogdie.com/blog/i-spoil-movies-and-im-proud-of-it. Accessed July 9, 2024.

Haines, Staci K. The Politics of Trauma: Somatics, Healing, and Social Justice. North Atlantic Books, 2019.

Hume, Mick. Trigger Warning: Is the Fear of Being Offensive Killing Free Speech?. Harper Collins, 2015.

Knox, Emily J. M., ed. Trigger Warnings: History, Theory, Context. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2017.

Nelson, Maggie. The Art of Cruelty: A Reckoning. W. W. Norton & Company, 2011.

Sontag, Susan. Regarding the Pain of Others. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003.

Vuong, Ocean. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. Penguin Press, 2019.

Wyatt, Wendy. “The Ethics of the Trigger Warning.” Journal of Academic Ethics 13, no. 1 (March 2015): 63-78.