After mass violence, trauma spreads socially. Here are 3 ways you can help reduce it

After mass violence such as the Bondi beach terrorist attack on Sunday, distress does not stop with those directly affected.

Fear, anger and uncertainty spread through media and social networks. This can intensify harm for survivors and targeted communities.

People closest to an event are often supported by services and community. But the wider public also shapes what happens next.

Here are three ways you can help reduce secondary harm.

A ripple effect

Research on disasters and mass violence shows distress can ripple beyond those directly affected.

For many people it’s real but temporary, while a smaller proportion develop longer lasting symptoms. Human threat detection systems evolved to respond quickly to danger, prioritising survival over nuance.

When threat systems activate, they mobilise the body and narrow focus. You may feel on high alert, lose sleep, have intrusive thoughts or images, feel irritable, or feel driven to seek information and certainty. These responses say nothing about a person’s strength. They’re common patterns from a nervous system experiencing uncertainty, though people’s responses vary widely in intensity.

The feeling of threat also spreads socially. Humans are sensitive to others’ emotions, especially in unclear situations. After terror attacks such as the one in Bondi, people look to others for cues about what’s happening, who’s at risk, and what to do. This can steady people, but it can also amplify fear.

Modern crises are further shaped by media exposure. Research shows heavy exposure to mass violence coverage is linked with higher short-term stress and post-traumatic stress symptoms.

This can even show up in people not directly involved. Distress can lead to repeatedly checking the news, and news coverage can in turn prolong distress. Either way, frequent replay can keep threat responses switched on long after the immediate danger has passed.

Distance matters

Distance from an event isn’t just geographic. It includes what you saw or heard, perceived ongoing risk, and how close the event feels through your community or identity group.

For survivors and bereaved families, the early phase is often dominated by shock, grief and practical demands. Coping may look less like emotional “processing” and more like survival through hours that feel unreal.

Witnesses, first responders and locals may develop place-based fear, where familiar places start to feel dangerous. Communities who feel targeted can experience a shared sense of threat. In those cases, being on high alert reflects an understandable change in their sense of safety.

Remote observers are not immune. Vivid imagery and emotionally charged discussion can trigger the body’s threat response, even from a distance. The nervous system shifts into fight or flight mode, but there’s no direct action to take and no clear endpoint.

Rumours, rage and scapegoating

Under threat, uncertainty itself becomes stressful. Clear stories feel safer than unresolved ones, even when facts are incomplete. This makes people more likely to spread rumours after attacks.

Research suggests being exposed to rumours during crises is linked to higher distress, which can drive more searching for information and create a feedback loop.

Early false claims can still stick emotionally after correction, because high stress strengthens emotional memory. Social media accelerates these dynamics. On many platforms, fast, emotionally charged content tends to travel further than slow, verified corrections, because most platforms reward engagement more than accuracy.

For example, a Sydney man named Naveed Akram, who was falsely accused online of being one of the alleged Bondi beach gunmen, was targeted with abuse, and became afraid to leave home.

Artificial intelligence (AI) tools can add further confusion. For example, X’s chatbot Grok misidentified a bystander who disarmed one attacker, and mislabelled verified footage of the attack. This serves as a reminder that confident AI outputs can be wrong in fast-moving crises.

Outrage spreads for similar reasons. Anger can focus fear and reduce helplessness. For those directly affected, it may support survival. For those at a distance, it can become performative or inflaming, especially when rewarded with attention.

Scapegoating is another common response – blaming a whole group for one person’s actions. Under high stress, focus can narrow and complex explanations can be harder to think through.

Blame can feel empowering because it reduces uncertainty, making scapegoating more likely. But it can increase risk for innocent people and deepen fear for targeted communities, adding secondary harm.

Reducing secondary harm

Disaster psychology separates the event itself from the conditions that shape recovery. Those conditions include safety, trust, connection and manageable exposure.

Psychological first aid, widely used in disaster response, focuses on reducing the feeling of being overwhelmed, strengthening social support, and connecting people to reliable information and services.

These principles don’t just apply to individuals – they also apply at a population level when it comes to what we see and share online.

There are three evidence-based ways the wider public can help:

1. Reduce unwanted exposure. Repeated sharing of graphic footage can worsen distress for survivors and families and heighten fear in targeted communities. Avoid reposting graphic content where possible. Before sharing, ask: is this verified and necessary, or just amplifying fear?

2. Slow down information. Early information is often incomplete. Prioritise verification over speed to reduce false claims that can fuel fear long after correction.

3. Avoid group blame. Condemning violence doesn’t require suspicion of whole groups. Scapegoating breaks trust and increases risk, undermining recovery for everyone.

The Bondi beach terror attack aimed to spread fear beyond its victims. With these steps, we can help fight it and ensure the community heals after such horror.