Long before the advent of fibre-optic cables, smartphones, and algorithmic timelines, human behaviour could already be neatly sliced by a timeless observation: “There are three types of people in the world: those who do good, those who do bad, and those who watch.”
At first glance, the quote sounds like the setup for a cynical philosophy lecture or a gritty Western movie. But drop this adage into the modern digital landscape, and it transforms into a terrifyingly accurate mirror. The internet didn’t invent human nature; it magnified it, giving it a global stage, a high-speed delivery system, and a permanent memory.
Today, as we scroll through our daily feeds, this ancient triad plays out in real-time. But what does it actually teach us about our role in the online world?
The Do-Gooders: The Builders of Digital Infrastructure
In the physical world, “those who do good” might volunteer at a soup kitchen, rescue an animal, or help a neighbour carry groceries. Online, the do-gooders are the quiet architects of empathy and utility.
They are the people who write detailed, free troubleshooting guides on Reddit for obscure software problems. They are the digital creators who spend hours debunking dangerous medical misinformation. They drop a comforting comment on a post where someone admits they are struggling with loneliness, or they quietly donate to a GoFundMe campaign for a stranger halfway across the globe.
Online “good” is often frictionless, but it requires intentionality. In a digital ecosystem optimised for outrage, the do-gooders are the ones refusing to take the bait, choosing instead to add light rather than heat.
The Do-Baders: The Weaponisation of Anonymity
On the opposite end are those who do bad. In the digital age, this group has undergone a radical evolution. We no longer just worry about mustache-twirling cybercriminals stealing credit card numbers; we worry about the everyday malice that thrives behind screens.
The online “do-bader” is the troll orchestrating a pile-on, the cyberbully driving a teenager to despair, the bot farm spreading xenophobic propaganda, and the influencer intentionally manipulating vulnerable followers for profit.
Anonymity and physical distance act as a psychological shield, lowering inhibitions and eroding basic empathy. It is remarkably easy to do immense psychological harm when you never have to look the victim in the eye. The internet has given bad actors a megaphone, allowing cruelty to travel across oceans in milliseconds.
The Watchers: The Most Dangerous Group of All?
And then, we have the third group: those who watch.
Historically, the watcher—the bystander—has been viewed as passive. But in the architecture of the internet, the watcher is arguably most powerful entity of all.
Watchers are the millions of people who lurk. They are the scrollers. They witness the digital argument, the viral video of humiliation, the spreading conspiracy theory, or the plea for help. They don’t join in the harassment (they aren’t the “do-baders”), but nor do they intervene, report, or offer support (they aren’t the “do-gooders”). They simply double-tap, read the comments for entertainment, and swipe to the next video.
In the online world, attention is currency. When a person watches and shares without condemning, they validate. Algorithms don’t care why you watch; they only care that you are watching. By stopping to look at digital cruelty or outrage bait, the watcher feeds the beast. Silence online is never neutral; silence is amplification.
What the Phrase Teaches Us Today
This old adage serves as a sharp wake-up call for modern digital citizens. It teaches us three vital lessons:
Intentionality is required: You cannot accidentally be a do-gooder online. Because the internet’s default state tends toward polarisation and outrage, being a positive force requires conscious effort. It means choosing to share accurate information, extending grace to strangers, and refusing to engage with bad-faith actors.
The bystander effect has scaled globally: In a physical crowd, you might assume someone else will call for help. In a digital crowd of millions, that diffusion of responsibility is catastrophic. When we watch a digital injustice unfold and do nothing—or worse, consume it for entertainment—we become complicit.
It’s possible to shift between groups daily: The most humbling lesson of this phrase is that very few of us belong permanently to just one category. Depending on the day, the mood, and the algorithm, someone might be the hero writing an encouraging reply (doing good), the cynical commenter leaving a snappy put-down (doing bad), or the silent lurker watching a tragedy unfold for sheer amusement (watching).
Rewriting Our Digital Script
The internet is a vast, human-made wilderness. It reflects our highest aspirations and our darkest impulses.
The next time you open your favourite app, pause and ask yourself: Which type of person am I being right now? Are you building, are you destroying, or are you simply pulling up a chair to watch the fire?
The magic of the digital world is that we can change our role with a single keystroke. It’s time to step away from the sidelines, stop being mere watchers, and start deciding what kind of digital world we actually want to live in.
—
See also:
