Once upon a time, I considered myself a liberal. Then some three out of ten I never knew existed sucked a bag full of cocks I couldn't pick out of a lineup and my world view took a broadside. That was at the start of Gamergate.
Someone slapping around the hobby-media attached to gaming was long overdue. The vast majority of them were enthusiasts running fansites, who then got mixed with or supplanted by college grads who couldn't get a job in regular media. Some of these critters became big enough that PR flaks came slinking through the door with money and baubles. Of course these amateurs and wannabes could be bought! When another PR flak makes vague noises about restricting access, of course they can be threatened! It's all a slippery slope that starts with rationalisations and good intentions but ends up in the gutter.
So when some thrift-shop magical pixie girl poseur sidles up to one of these gaming-media yahoos, the kind of guy who spent most of high school shoved in his own locker, of course she can seduce him. The world will never really know if that's why she decided to pity-fuck that three-incher, and/or if that two minutes of bliss influenced him to tongue bath her shitty text game. Doesn't matter if she fucked him for a good review, or if he gave a good review because she fucked him, or if the whole thing was a stupid co-incidence. The perception of corruption was there, and her beta boyfriend spilling his broken heart onto the web brought it out into the light.
The sexual antics of a mediocre rainbow-haired twink was the absolute worst way for Gamergate to kick off. It let the accused parties pinkwash the whole mess with claims of misogyny instead of facing the charges that the gaming media was about as trustworthy as a three dollar bill. Of course she got abuse online. Her being menaced by some 4chan randoms and games media being shit are not mutually exclusive conditions. Still, the rest of media fell in line with the pinkwash, in fear of similar scrutiny, or because a damsel in distress was a strong story, or because the narrative was already in motion.
So there I was, watching as the heralds for what I identified as my tribe turned out to be for another tribe entirely, actively hostile and working in co-ordination to boot. It was a revelation that shook my complacency. The biggest change was I no longer assumed the left was the banner of all that was good and correct. If fact, the closer I looked the more the present left reminded me of the right wing fundamentalists who I despised in the seventies and eighties.
I didn't leave the left. The left left me. The closest label that fits at the moment is the one Dave Rubin pushes, "Classical Liberal", but I suspect that's just a nice way of saying grandfather at this point.