OPINION | Ugla writes about ways to tackle the rise in online hate speech targeting LGBTQIA+ people.
Anyone who is queer or a queer ally will know that there has been an increase in hateful and negative comments towards the wider community, especially on social media.
If there is an article, post, or any content online related to queer issues, there appear, almost without exception, hateful and derogatory comments about queer people and their lives. It’s become a predictable pattern: someone mentions anything queer related and the comment section is filled by hateful individuals and bots posting abuse and misinformation. It’s like clockwork.
Recent research conducted by Nordic Safe Cities for the City of Reykjavík shows that 1 in 10 comments about queer people online are hateful or negative. The study analysed over 35,000 comments on Facebook between 2022 and 2025, revealing that topics most likely to spark hostility were trans women in sport, queer-inclusive education, and trans rights in general.
Recent research conducted by Nordic Safe Cities for the City of Reykjavík shows that 1 in 10 comments about queer people online are hateful or negative.
That means that every tenth comment — not just the odd one — is laced with hatred, mockery, or contempt. While it might be easy to brush it off as a troll, it’s actually a mirror of our society. These comments exist because we’ve allowed it to fester.
The sad reality is that this isn’t just lone trolls anymore. It’s become commonplace, and most major social media platforms do little, if anything, to address it.
While social media will remove things like nudity within minutes, hate speech and abuse is allowed to stand without challenge despite numerous reports. The results are radicalised echo chambers where hateful individuals and groups gather, validate each other, and push one another further down the rabbit hole.
And when online hatred goes unchallenged, it doesn’t stay online. It seeps into classrooms, workplaces, and the street. It shows up as bullying in schools, as vandalism of rainbow flags and streets, as harassment, and in the most tragic cases, as violence.
The truth is, violent crimes never exist in a vacuum. They are grown, word by word, post by post, in an environment that quietly allows dehumanisation to flourish. When society shrugs off “just words” or “just a few sad trolls”, those words eventually become action, and those trolls become violent perpetrators.
The most horrifying example of what happens when transphobia and hatred go unchecked is when it escalates to murder. We see this escalation all around us. A notable example is the murder of Brianna Ghey, a 16-year-old trans girl in the UK whose life was taken in a hate crime committed by her peers.
Iceland, and the Nordic countries more broadly, like to think of themselves as progressive and safe — and to a degree, we are. But safety isn’t a permanent state; it’s something that has to be maintained. Even here, we’ve seen an increase in hate incidents and violent attacks against queer people. The warning signs are there, and ignoring them isn’t an option. We can’t claim we are a safe haven for queer people if we don’t take action when it’s most needed.
The study analysed over 35,000 comments on Facebook between 2022 and 2025, revealing that topics most likely to spark hostility were trans women in sport, queer-inclusive education, and trans rights in general.
So how do we address it? For one, we stop treating online hate as “just comments.” It’s early-stage radicalisation, and it corrodes empathy.
Social media platforms must take real responsibility for moderation and content policies, instead of just slapping rainbow logos once a year and call it a day. Schools and communities should include discussions about online behaviour, empathy, and media literacy in education from a young age. We must stop young people from being pulled into these rabbit holes, and finding role models in hateful and divisive individuals.
But just as importantly, we as individuals have to speak up. Silence and inaction, especially from those outside the queer community, is complicity. Whether it’s reporting hate speech, challenging misinformation, or showing public support, every small act pushes back against the tide.
Because hate doesn’t grow in the dark. It grows in the silence. It grows because good people let bad things happen unchecked.
Because at the end of the day, creating safety isn’t just about laws or policies. It’s also about culture. It’s about what we tolerate, what we amplify, and what we stand for. When we choose to challenge hate, whether online, in our friend groups, or at the dinner table, we help build a society where everyone can breathe a little easier. Where hatred is challenged, instead of allowed to grow.
It’s a collective responsibility, and it starts with the small, everyday acts of courage and care that say, simply: We belong here. Each and every one of us.
Photo / Móa Hjartardóttir