The online world was the last place I expected to be inspired by compassion, certainly not during a week in which its ugliness has been laid bare.

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But it happened - on, of all places, a virtual battlefield.

Night had fallen and my squad was probing an enemy position when the bullet struck and I went down. Vision was fading, a sure sign the loss of consciousness would soon follow. I could hear a brief exchange of fire. When it stopped I asked my squad leader if he was still there.

He was. Trying to patch me up but short on medical supplies. Then came the sound of an approaching vehicle, thankfully friendly. The squad leader asked if there were medical supplies on board: "Can you help get this brother back on his feet?" There were and they did. And soon I was back in the game.

Of course, it was all make-believe, a Czech military simulation game called Arma Reforger. It's built around communication, teamwork and, most importantly, thought. Not your run-of-the-mill shoot-'em-up that requires no more than mindlessly quick reflexes and rapidly loses its appeal despite the cinematic graphics.

Arma is a game for adults, not kiddies. Supplies have to be shipped, defences built, radio networks established, recon patrols undertaken. Hours can pass without a shot being fired. Success only comes if everyone works together and newcomers like me are treated kindly and shown how everything works. Trolls are quickly voted out of the game.

I've played it for a couple of months now, each time impressed with the co-operation I encounter and the friendships I sense forming. Coming across someone you've previously played with is like meeting up with a mate.

Arma reminds me of how Twitter used to be before Elon Musk acquired it. On that platform, I reconnected with old colleagues and friends from years ago. There was more humour than hate. More thought than reflex. I looked forward to seeing posts from familiar names, even if I'd not met them in person. But I've not opened it since shortly after X replaced the cheerful little blue bird and the whole thing became poisonous.

Venturing into Facebook the day after the Helen Haines incident, I was amazed to find compassion there too, even if the context was appalling.

A post by a man calling out male violence against women had met a deluge of abusive replies from, of course, men. But then a ray of light as others - a few good men - chimed in with support and pleas for him to look after his own mental health. Two things stood out. The fellow's courage in continuing to post after the torrent of sickening abuse and the chorus of affirmation that followed and drowned out the hate.

Decades ago Paul Keating made much of the information superhighway that was coming and Australia's need to be ready for it. I still remember my first encounter with this new thing called the internet which in minutes could access information that would have previously required a visit to a library and a long trawl through index cards.

And I recall the empowerment granted to ordinary people as they turned to the world wide web for information they used to campaign for improvements to their local neighbourhoods and email rather than snail mail to communicate with their politicians.

But all that speed has come at considerable cost. Conflict has overtaken cooperation, reflex has trumped reason. The........

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