The media is starting to sweat events across the city. They should.

At Ibrox this weekend the protests turned ugly.

So ugly, in fact, that some of the very journalists and papers who’ve spent weeks fanning the flames now look as though they’re wondering what they’ve unleashed. It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so dangerous. Because this is the classic trick of the Scottish sports media: stir anger, indulge in cheap “banter” that edges into provocation, then recoil in horror when it boils over into something darker.

It isn’t a new trick. We’ve seen it too many times before.

Years ago, before a Celtic game at Ibrox, The Daily Record ran one of the most disgraceful headlines in living memory. They asked their readers who was more hated at Ibrox: Neil Lennon, or Hector the Taxman.

Think about that for a moment. Lennon was the manager of Celtic. He was already the target of a vile hate campaign. He had been sent bullets in the post. He had lived under constant threat. And the Record saw an easy opportunity for clicks.

That’s not banter. That’s not edgy. That’s gross irresponsibility of the sort that has consequences in the real world.

That headline wasn’t written in a vacuum. It was written in a context where Lennon was under pressure, where the atmosphere was already toxic, and where journalists knew fine well that he was a lightning rod for sectarian bile.

They didn’t care. They thought it would sell papers.

That’s the level of thought that went into it. The consequences for Lennon’s safety? For the already heated climate? For what message it sent about how we talk about human beings in public life? None of that factored in.

This habit isn’t confined to sport. When the Daily Mail ran its infamous “Enemies of the People” headline about judges who had ruled on Brexit, it was condemned across the political spectrum. Why? Because it poured petrol on an already incendiary debate.

It didn’t just criticise the judges; it branded them as traitors to the nation.

That’s the kind of language that undermines trust in institutions and invites public fury at individuals who were simply doing their jobs. Even some of the Mail’s peers were appalled at the recklessness of it. That headline stands as a reminder of how a few careless words can put lives at risk and corrode public discourse.

Our press here in Scotland has been guilty of the same; treating hate as if it’s just another commodity. It inflames, it indulges, it sensationalises. And then, when the mob turns, when anger curdles into something darker, they act surprised. They clutch their pearls and wonder if maybe they’ve gone too far.

That’s exactly what happened this weekend.

For months, elements of the press have been stoking discontent at Ibrox. Not just discontent. They have amplified every attack and criticism of Russell Martin until they have transformed him into a genuine figure of hate.

Every bad result has been dialled up. Every weakness exaggerated. Every whisper turned into a roar. They’ve written about the players as if they’re frauds. They’ve written about the manager as if he’s some kind of infiltrator. They’ve written about the board as if it’s a criminal conspiracy. None of this is done with balance. None of it is done with care. It’s done to fuel rage. To get the clicks. To sell the papers. To feed the beast.

And this weekend, the beast turned up. It was outside the stadium before the match, it was in the stands during it, and it was online after it.

It was raw, unfiltered hatred. And some of the same journalists who’ve been ladling the soup now look like they’ve realised what they’ve cooked. They’ve helped unleash something they can’t control.

I don’t raise this to laugh at them, or even to criticise Ibrox fans. I raise it because there’s a lesson in it, one that we at Celtic need to take very seriously. We’re angry too. We’re frustrated. We’re fed up with the contempt, the lack of ambition, the strategic drift, the arrogance. We’re right to be.

But anger is not hate. And if anyone thinks this campaign is about hate, they have profoundly misunderstood it.

The Celtic Fans Collective campaign is built on values.

That word, values, is not window dressing. It’s in the mission statement for a reason. Democracy, integrity, ambition, independence. Those are the cornerstones. They are what separates us from the people across the city, who live in a culture of hate. They are what keep us on the right track.

That doesn’t mean we won’t fight hard. It doesn’t mean we won’t demand answers. It doesn’t mean we won’t protest, loudly, visibly, and in ways that make the board uncomfortable. Of course we will.

That’s the point. But this campaign is not about making individuals’ lives a misery. Uncomfortable, yes. That’s valid. It’s how constituents get their MPs to remember who sent them to Westminster. It’s not about hounding anyone. It’s not about bile. We’re trying to get changes, to get a new strategy.

Our policy is that of renewal. That means changes. That means some people currently at the club will have to leave. Three names have been identified by the campaign, in order that we get this done. That’s a reality of change. It’s a reality of renewal.

This distinction matters. It matters morally, because hate corrodes the hater as well as the hated. It matters strategically, because once you cross that line you lose the argument. And it matters practically, because if this campaign ever degenerates into a hate-fest, it will fracture, it will lose public support, and it will fail.

I want to be very clear on this point.

The difference between anger and hate is what I keep coming back to. Anger can be righteous. Anger can be constructive. Anger can build movements. Anger can tear down barriers. Anger can change things. Hate does none of those things. Hate burns everything in its path, including the people who wield it.

Ibrox this weekend showed what hate looks like when it spills over. It looks feral. It looks unhinged. It looks like something nobody can control. And even the journalists who helped pour petrol on the fire looked uneasy with the blaze. That tells its own story.

But the Lennon example is important too. Because it shows that this isn’t accidental. The press here isn’t just passively reflecting moods. It actively shapes them, and it knows it does. It knows exactly what it’s doing when it runs headlines like that. It wants to provoke. It wants to stoke. And it doesn’t care who gets hurt along the way.

If something bad happens to Russell Martin it will be in no small part because of what our media has spent the last few months doing.

We need to be vigilant. Not just about what our board does, but about what we ourselves do. About what tone we set. About how we conduct ourselves. We can’t fall into the trap of thinking hate is just another tool in the box. It shouldn’t be in the box.

Because make no mistake: a lot of people will try to tar us with the same brush. If they can’t delegitimise this campaign on the facts, they’ll try to delegitimise it on tone. They’ll say it’s a mob. They’ll say it’s fuelled by bile. They’ll say it’s no different to Ibrox. We cannot, under any circumstances, let them make that argument stick.

That’s why the values matter so much. That’s why integrity matters. That’s why discipline matters. The board is terrified of collective action because it knows how powerful it is. But the board also knows that if the campaign slips, if it loses its focus, if it starts to look like hate rather than anger, then we’re done.

We’re not going to give them that satisfaction. We’re going to hold the line. We’re going to stay on point. We’re going to be sharp, disciplined, focused, and determined. And we’re going to win.

When the cameras cut to the directors’ box, when the protests are happening in the stands, when the pressure is on, we’ll see the discomfort in their faces. We’ll see the sweat. We’ll know that for the first time in years, they’re feeling heat. That’s what success looks like. That’s what pressure feels like. That’s how change happens.

But we’ll never cross the line into hate. That’s their world, not ours. That’s the Daily Record headline, not our mindset. That’s the Enemies of the People front page, not our movement. That’s Ibrox on Saturday, not the fans of Celtic Park.