I recently came across an article describing Donald Trump as a troll, written by the Englishman Nate White. That word—troll—hit me with a jolt of nostalgia. I hadn’t written about trolling in years, perhaps two. Yet, it’s a word with a long and fascinating history, one that’s deeply entwined with the evolution of the internet, social media, and yes, even Excel.
A Brief History of Trolling
Let’s rewind to a time before the modern internet, before Facebook, before YouTube. Back then, online forums were the epicenter of digital conversation. These forums evolved from physical gatherings of intellectuals and experts—spaces where serious discussions took place on philosophy, sociology, science, and technology.
With the internet came online versions of these forums, enabled by a protocol called NNTP (Network News Transfer Protocol). These “newsgroups,” as they were called, allowed anyone to set up and participate in discussions with no barriers—no registration, no identity verification, total anonymity. You could even argue with yourself under different aliases.
In this open, unmoderated environment, a peculiar phenomenon began to emerge: trolling.
What Is Trolling?
Trolling originally referred to users who entered discussions not to contribute, but to stir the pot. They weren’t necessarily uninformed. In fact, many trolls were impressively well-read—thanks to early search engines like Yahoo and Excite—but their intent was mischief. They’d throw a controversial view into a thread, provoke responses, and escalate tensions while maintaining a façade of legitimacy.
The phrase “Don’t feed the trolls” became a common refrain. The idea: trolls thrived on attention. Ignoring them was the only defense.
A real-world analogy? A British childhood prank called “knock down ginger,” where kids would ring someone’s doorbell and run away. Pointless mischief. Trolling was the online version of that—a game for those seeking amusement at others’ expense.
My First Encounter with Trolls
My introduction to trolling came in the late 1990s on a newsgroup called consultants. At the time, I’d just been labeled a “consultant” by a client who’d given me a substantial pay hike. I followed discussions in this group mostly as a lurker—someone who reads but doesn’t post.
It was during one of these lurker sessions that I witnessed trolling firsthand. A new participant entered a serious debate with a provocative viewpoint. His posts were articulate, even well-researched. Another new participant chimed in, backing the first. Together, they created a dramatic, polarizing debate.
Eventually, someone dropped a line that stuck with me: “Don’t feed the trolls.”
That was the first time I truly understood the dynamic. These weren’t genuine participants. They were here to stir chaos, to amuse themselves—and others—through mischief masked as debate.
Trolling Evolves
In those days, trolls were anomalies. Most people were authentic. The forums were largely respectful and informative. But with the rise of blogs (short for “web logs”)—web pages that curated and commented on other web pages—the internet became easier to navigate. Search engines allowed anyone to become an “expert” overnight.
Trolls adapted. Instead of relying solely on wit or firsthand knowledge, they started using the internet as a resource. They’d search for just enough information to feign authority, then inject themselves into discussions with crafted opinions.
This practice exploded with the rise of smartphones and mass internet adoption. Now, a troll could take their time, do some research, and post a convincing argument—entirely fabricated for engagement. No real-time pressure. No one to fact-check them on the spot.
The Influence Economy
So why troll? What’s the incentive?
Early on, it was just mischief—the thrill of getting a reaction. But with the rise of social media platforms like YouTube, Facebook, and LinkedIn, trolling became something more: a business model.
These platforms thrive on engagement. Their algorithms reward content that gets clicks, likes, shares, and comments. It doesn’t matter if the content is true. What matters is that people are interacting with it.
This shift created a feedback loop. The more outrageous or entertaining your content, the more engagement you received. And engagement leads to visibility, influence, and often—monetary reward.
In this new landscape, trolls weren’t outliers. They became the mainstream.
From Forums to Fame
Let me share a quick anecdote. Around 25 years ago, I was active in a newsgroup centered on Active Server Pages—a then-groundbreaking technology enabling dynamic web pages. I became well known in that space and even launched a website called askhiran.com to help others navigate the newsgroup.
One feature I added was a real-time contributor ranking. It revealed something interesting: the top contributor, Jag Sidhu, had skyrocketed to the top not by providing deep insights, but by posting brief, prolific responses like “Yes” or “I agree.”
We all knew what he was doing. It was a game. He was gaming the system for visibility.
That was trolling. And today, we’re all living in Jag Sidhu’s world.
Trolls, Excel, and the Social Media Circus
Now let’s talk Excel—my old stomping ground.
In today’s social media landscape, you don’t need to be an Excel expert to become an Excel influencer. You don’t need to have built mission-critical spreadsheets or solved complex business problems. You just need a good camera, some charisma, and the ability to regurgitate content created by others.
Record a flashy tutorial. Steal some content. Rephrase it. Post it with flair. Get likes. Get subscribers. Rinse and repeat.
Platforms like LinkedIn and YouTube reward engagement, not accuracy. Veracity doesn’t matter anymore. The metrics that define “influence” are based on how entertaining you are—not how informed or authentic.
That’s the punchline of this piece:
You can become a social media celebrity in Excel without knowing anything about Excel.
So What’s the Point?
All of this leads to a simple question: what’s the significance?
The rise of trolling as a mainstream strategy reveals a massive opportunity. And that’s what I’ll explore in Part Two. I’ll unpack the upside hidden in this noisy, inauthentic world—and it might just be the most controversial thing I’ve ever shared.
This isn’t just a reflection on the state of digital discourse. It’s a roadmap.
Stay tuned.
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