ONE of the features of the past week has been the focus on the unfair abuse of jockeys, a subject which was dealt with extremely well by Kate Tracey, the girlfriend of the beleaguered jockey Ciaran Gethings, whose unseat on a 25/1 outsider in a moderate handicap at Hereford had come under extreme scrutiny on social media.

Some of that criticism spilled over into uglier sentiment, and Tracey, rather than seek to stoop to the same level, pointed out that repeated abuse and trolling can have serious repercussions on jockeys who are already prone to extreme physical and mental stress. All criticism can hurt, of course, but when it turns nasty, as in Gethings’ case – forcing him to delete his Twitter profile – the polarising effect is magnified.

As in all walks of life, such bullying is reprehensible, and needs to be dealt with.

That’s not to say that jockeys, like all sportsmen, should be immune from criticism, and the oft-repeated mantra that we should revere riders because theirs is the only occupation in which the participants are followed by an ambulance is flawed.

It’s true that considering the inherent dangers of the sport can help in tempering harsh criticism, and the life of a journeyman jockey is as far from glamorous as it’s possible to be.

However, if we’re going to put anyone on a pedestal in jockey/ambulance scenario, it should probably be the bloke who climbs into the vehicle each morning.

We need to observe a realistic framework for discussion as racing fans – at one extreme there is the fallacy that you shouldn’t be able to have an opinion if you’ve not walked in the shoes of the person you are criticising, and at the other, there is a feeling that spending a couple of quid to watch a horse race entitles you to mete out whatever punishment you desire on those who displease you.

Unfortunately, the extremes tend to feed off each other, and while the majority of observers are sensible enough to see both sides or refrain from comment when inappropriate, the small minority tend to be extremely vocal, and indeed repetitive.

Our reaction to bullying as reasonable people is curious, especially in the age of Twitter. We no longer attempt to influence the abuser by reasoned argument, possibly because history has shown that this tends to be a waste of effort, but instead we look to make that person the object of ridicule and approbrium.

In effect, we bully the bully. This is effective in that in takes away the abuser’s power in individual situations, but I wonder whether it merely creates an environment where the lines of reasonable behaviour become blurred. In my experience, it’s not simply the case that social media gives an opportunity for trolls to flourish, but it also allows people who might otherwise have their opinions softened by normal social interaction cross a line they simply can’t see.

They are, if you like, accidental trolls, unable to comprehend that their actions have become unconscionable.

RIGHT TO ABUSE

I’ll give a real-life example. I did a festival preview a year ago which was held at an upmarket restaurant in which the panel, rather than speak from a dais, sat among the guests on smallish tables, making the whole affair very intimate.

One of the other panellists at this preview was The Irish Field’s erudite Irish expert Donn McClean, but whenever Donn started to answer any question put to him, a bloke sat not two seats away from him would loudly harangue him and shout him down.

This continued for some time until I lost my temper and told the bloke that he was ruining the evening for everyone else and he shouldn’t have bothered coming if he was intended to behave the way he did.

At the interval, and realising it wasn’t my place to interfere as I had, I thought I’d better pour oil on troubled water, so went across and introduced myself, apologising for my outburst. I half expected to get both barrels, but to my surprise, I got a very different response.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” he told me genially “and I’m actually really enjoying it. To be honest, I don’t know anything about horseracing, but I’ve paid £150 for a ticket, and I think that gives me a right to shout stuff out.”

He said that without the vaguest hint of anger or aggression, and was absolutely oblivious to any distress he might have caused – he was just an ordinary bloke who thought that the act of paying for something gave him a duty to dole out abuse.

A genuinely frightening thought.