The only thing nearly as demoralising and frustrating as being bombarded with online abuse is listening to the things people repeatedly tell you when they find out you’re experiencing online abuse.

It’s the reason that when the Guardian recently published its research into the tone and content of 70m comments on its articles – and the methodology used – I couldn’t bring myself to read the responses “below the line”.

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Sometimes, it’s well-meaning – when people reassure you that there’s no real risk, for example, they’re trying to make you feel more secure. But at its worst, the way in which we respond to those experiencing online harassment risks normalising it, isolating them further or implicitly blaming them for the abuse. Here are some of the most common responses I’ve heard:

1. I hate it when people disagree with me, too

Online abuse is not an intellectual squabble. In fact, it’s marked by a total failure to engage with your argument. It’s often characterised by personal attacks, sexual comments, racism, homophobia or transphobia and threats of physical violence or rape – none of which have anything to do with disagreement.

2. You know they’re only trying to scare you, right?

Probably the most common reaction, but one that completely underestimates the psychological toll of trawling through strangers’ fantasies about what weapons they would use to disembowel you, and in what order.

Online abuse can have a major psychological impact, whether or not you fear for your immediate physical safety. For many victims, online abuse does indeed spill offline, with their addresses or those of their family members shared widely.

If you’re on the receiving end of hundreds of long, detailed, graphic threats, you can’t stop wondering whether just one person might follow through. And when you’ve received a detailed rape threat with an exact time and date in it, it’s very hard not to start looking at your watch as the hour draws near, no matter how rational you are.

3. What did you say to annoy them?

People who respond like this imply that online abuse is at least partly the fault of the victim. They assume that it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t said something inflammatory or provocative. But this plays right into the prejudices of abusers, by casting feminist or anti-racist opinions, for example, as something extreme and challenging. Furthermore, we know that very similar posts made by accounts presenting as male or female get a very different reaction, so it isn’t about what you say, it’s about the prejudices of those responding.

4. Have you thought about shutting down your Twitter account?

Oh, gosh, no, that hadn’t occurred to me, thank you! Silencing is the end goal of the majority of abuse. If you suggest that someone who is experiencing it shuts down their social media accounts or stops speaking out, you’re suggesting their freedom should be curtailed because of someone else’s abusive behaviour.

5. Have you reported it to the police?

The answer is yes, over and over again. In my experience, they are generally kind, supportive and take it seriously – although clearly this is not the case for everyone, as detailed in Lily Allen’s account of harassment, which started on social media. But it takes a long time and a lot of mental energy to go through the process of reporting a crime like this and unfortunately …

6. ‘What’s a Twitter handle?’

… was one of the first questions a police officer asked me when I was describing a recent spate of abuse and rape threats. Law enforcement has yet to catch up to the wild west of the internet and we need to see both police and social platforms doing more to protect users.

7. It’s just a sad middle-aged single man/a spotty teenage boy alone in his mum’s basement

First off, this seems fairly offensive to the vast majority of teenage boys/single middle-aged men. Assigning any particular demographic to online abusers risks letting them off the hook, with implied societal reasons (and excuses) for their behaviour. What’s harder, but necessary, to confront is that many of those who abuse online are people within our communities and friendship groups, not just “weirdos” or outcasts.

8. Don’t feed the trolls

Notice how many of these responses focus on policing victims’ behaviour? No matter how well-meaning it might be, telling someone how they should respond plays into the idea that they are somehow responsible for provoking, or capable of preventing, the abuse. If you want to engage with so-called Twitter trolls, go for it. As Mary Beard has proved, in some cases, it works very effectively. If you want to switch off, that’s OK, too.

It is tempting to try to respond to online abuse by telling the victim not to worry, or explaining how you think they could solve it. But this can often inadvertently reinforce the very narrative that trolls seek to create. It’s better to respond with support, or to challenge online harassment. Above all, we should focus on stopping online abuse from happening in the first place.