This popped up from 14 years ago, and I sat here looking at it thinking about how much my thinking has changed.
At the time, I had no problem with drug testing people who received public assistance. My reasoning was pretty simple: people get drug tested for jobs, so why shouldn’t someone receiving taxpayer-funded assistance be tested too?
And no, I didn’t believe everyone receiving assistance was using drugs. It just seemed like a reasonable requirement.
But here’s what I wasn’t asking:
How much does all that drug testing cost taxpayers?
How many recipients actually test positive?
How much money are we supposedly saving after paying to administer an entire testing program?
And most importantly, even if somebody IS struggling with drug addiction, when did that mean they no longer deserve to eat?
That’s the part that hits me differently today.
We’re talking about people receiving a relatively small amount of assistance to buy FOOD. Not cash for a vacation. Not some luxurious lifestyle. Food.
Addiction doesn’t eliminate hunger. Poverty doesn’t eliminate someone’s humanity. And children certainly shouldn’t go hungry because of something their parent may or may not have done.
What’s interesting to me about this memory isn’t that I suddenly became smarter sometime during the last 14 years. It’s that I learned to ask more questions.
The meme gave me a very simple fairness argument:
“If workers have to take drug tests, welfare recipients should too.”
And I accepted the premise without examining everything underneath it.
Who created that framing?
What does the actual data say?
What does the policy cost?
Does it accomplish what we’re being told it accomplishes?
Who benefits from convincing us that another struggling person is the problem?
That’s what media literacy does. It doesn’t tell you what political opinion you’re supposed to have. It teaches you to stop accepting somebody else’s premise before you’ve examined it.
Sometimes growth is being able to look at something you posted 14 years ago and say:
I understand exactly why that argument made sense to me then. I also understand why it doesn’t anymore.
The internet has made it easier than ever to connect with people around the world. Unfortunately, it has also made it easier to target them.
One of the most concerning trends in online culture is doxxing—the act of searching for and sharing someone’s personal information without their consent. While motivations vary, the goal is often the same: to intimidate, embarrass, punish, or silence someone.
What begins as a disagreement on social media can quickly escalate into a search for personal details that have nothing to do with the original conversation.
What Is Doxxing?
Doxxing occurs when someone gathers and publicly shares private or identifying information about another person.
This may include:
Full legal names
Home addresses
Phone numbers
Email addresses
Workplace information
Family member information
Financial details
Personal photographs
Court records or historical records
Sometimes the information is published publicly. Other times it is sent to employers, family members, friends, or online communities in an attempt to create consequences for the targeted individual.
Why People Doxx Others
Contrary to popular belief, doxxing is rarely about public safety.
More often, it is about power.
When someone cannot win an argument, they may try to shift attention away from the discussion and onto the person making it.
The goal becomes:
“If I can’t defeat your argument, I will try to damage your reputation.”
Political discussions, social issues, gaming communities, fandoms, and local community groups have all become common environments for this behavior.
The Hidden Dangers
Many people underestimate the risks associated with sharing personal information online.
Once identifying information is released, it can spread rapidly across platforms and communities.
Potential consequences include:
Harassment
Threats
Stalking
False reports
Employment issues
Emotional distress
Safety concerns for family members
In extreme cases, doxxing has led to real-world confrontations and criminal investigations.
What begins as an online dispute can quickly leave the digital world.
Public Information vs. Ethical Behavior
One of the most common defenses used by people who engage in doxxing is:
“The information was already public.”
While information may be publicly accessible, that does not automatically make it ethical to collect, compile, and distribute it for the purpose of targeting someone.
There is a significant difference between information existing somewhere online and someone intentionally gathering it to intimidate another person.
The question is not simply whether information is public.
The question is how and why it is being used.
Protecting Yourself Online
No one can eliminate all risk, but there are steps that can reduce exposure:
Review Privacy Settings
Regularly audit social media accounts and limit the visibility of personal information.
Remove Unnecessary Personal Details
Avoid posting addresses, phone numbers, daily routines, or location-specific information.
Separate Personal and Professional Identities
When appropriate, consider maintaining separate accounts for personal and professional use.
Monitor Your Digital Footprint
Search for your own name periodically to understand what information is publicly visible.
Document Incidents
If someone begins collecting, sharing, or threatening to release personal information, save screenshots and records of all interactions.
Disagreement Is Not a License
Healthy societies depend on disagreement.
People should be able to debate politics, discuss public issues, challenge ideas, and express opinions without fear that a stranger will attempt to expose their personal information.
Doxxing represents a dangerous shift away from discussion and toward intimidation.
The solution to speech we dislike is not harassment.
The solution to disagreement is more discussion.
Behind every profile is a real person with a family, a career, and a life beyond the screen. Respecting those boundaries is not just good digital citizenship—it is a basic principle of human decency.
A disagreement should end when the conversation ends.
It should never become a search warrant into someone else’s life.
Most of us expect some level of visibility when we participate on social media. We know our comments can be seen, our profiles can be viewed, and our opinions can be challenged.
What many people don’t expect is how quickly a disagreement can turn into a personal investigation.
In today’s digital world, it takes only a few clicks for someone to move beyond a discussion and begin searching for information about the person behind the profile. A comment on a political post, a debate in a Facebook group, or a disagreement on a public page can sometimes lead strangers down a rabbit hole of online research.
The goal isn’t always to learn more. Sometimes it’s to find something that can be used against someone.
The Rise of Amateur Investigators
Social media has created an environment where people can access more information than ever before. Public records, old news articles, archived websites, social media profiles, and search engines can reveal years of information in minutes.
For some people, curiosity stops there.
For others, it becomes an obsession.
Instead of responding to an argument, they attempt to discredit the person making it. Rather than discussing facts, they search for personal information, employment details, family connections, past mistakes, or anything that can be used to shift attention away from the original conversation.
The discussion changes from:
“Is this statement true?”
to:
“Who is this person?”
Why This Matters
Social media stalking isn’t always illegal, but it can be invasive.
Many people have experienced situations where strangers have:
Contacted family members
Contacted employers
Searched public records
Sent private messages referencing personal information
Dug up events from years or even decades ago
Often, the purpose is intimidation.
The message being sent is clear:
“I know who you are.”
Even when no direct threat is made, the behavior can make people feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or reluctant to participate in public conversations.
Protecting Yourself Online
While it is impossible to eliminate all risks, there are steps everyone can take to improve online safety:
Review Privacy Settings
Regularly check privacy settings on social media platforms. Limit who can see personal information, photos, friends lists, and contact information.
Separate Personal and Professional Accounts
Consider maintaining separate accounts for professional activities and personal interactions when possible.
Be Mindful of Location Information
Avoid posting real-time locations, home addresses, or details that could reveal your daily routine.
Monitor Your Digital Footprint
Search your own name periodically to see what information is publicly available. You may be surprised by what appears in search results.
Document Harassment
If someone crosses the line from curiosity into harassment, save screenshots and document interactions. Having a record can be valuable if behavior escalates.
The Human Side of the Screen
One of the most overlooked aspects of social media is that every profile belongs to a real person.
People have histories, families, careers, successes, failures, and experiences that cannot be summarized by a single post, headline, or search result.
Disagreements are part of healthy public discourse.
Personal investigations are not.
Before spending time digging into someone’s life, it is worth asking a simple question:
“Would I want a stranger doing this to me?”
The internet has made information easier to find than ever before. It has not made it any less important to respect personal boundaries.
Digital citizenship is not just about what we post. It is also about how we treat the people behind the profiles.
There was a time when most of us learned a simple lesson in elementary school:
Don’t bully people.
Don’t spread rumors.
Don’t make fun of someone’s appearance.
Don’t invent stories about people because you disagree with them.
Yet somehow, once those same behaviors show up on social media, many adults suddenly forget everything they spent years teaching their children.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched thousands of comments directed at public figures that would never be tolerated in a classroom, workplace, or neighborhood gathering. People mock appearances. They spread rumors without evidence. They repeat conspiracy theories as if repetition magically turns fiction into fact.
The target changes depending on the day.
Sometimes it’s a politician.
Sometimes it’s a celebrity.
Sometimes it’s an activist.
Sometimes it’s an ordinary citizen who suddenly finds themselves at the center of an online pile-on.
The behavior remains the same.
What concerns me most is not the original comment. Every generation has had people willing to say outrageous things for attention. What concerns me is the crowd that follows.
A rumor is posted.
Hundreds repeat it.
Thousands amplify it.
Eventually, people stop asking whether it’s true and begin treating it as common knowledge simply because they’ve heard it so many times.
Psychologists call this the “illusory truth effect.” The more often people hear a claim, the more likely they are to believe it, even when no evidence exists.
Social media algorithms reward this behavior.
Outrage drives engagement.
Engagement drives visibility.
Visibility drives advertising revenue.
The result is a system where the most inflammatory content often receives the greatest reach.
The consequences extend far beyond hurt feelings.
False information damages reputations.
Conspiracy theories erode trust.
Constant hostility teaches younger generations that cruelty is an acceptable form of public discourse.
Most alarming of all, it normalizes the idea that people we disagree with are somehow less deserving of dignity.
We teach our children to verify information before repeating it.
We teach them not to call people names.
We teach them not to gang up on classmates.
We teach them empathy.
Why should those standards disappear when adults log into Facebook, X, TikTok, or any other platform?
Disagreement is healthy.
Debate is healthy.
Criticism is healthy.
Bullying is not.
Spreading rumors is not.
Dehumanizing people is not.
If we expect better behavior from children, perhaps it’s time we start expecting it from ourselves.
The internet doesn’t create character.
It reveals it.
And every comment we post tells the world exactly who we are.
The Ethical Implications of Deepfake Technology: Navigating the Digital Dilemma
Deepfake technology, which leverages artificial intelligence to create hyper-realistic yet fabricated video, audio, and images, presents significant ethical challenges. While the technology offers exciting possibilities for entertainment and creativity, it also has the potential for harm, particularly when used to spread misinformation, violate privacy, or undermine trust in media.
Ethical Challenges
The rise of deepfakes has raised alarm due to their ability to create convincing misinformation. These digitally manipulated videos can portray individuals, including politicians and public figures, saying or doing things they never did, which can easily be spread as “evidence” online, influencing public opinion. In the political arena, this could be weaponized to manipulate elections or sow discord in societies (Larry Jordan) (JIER).
Another significant concern is the violation of privacy. With deepfake technology, anyone’s likeness can be replicated and used without their consent. This has led to the rise of non-consensual pornography, where deepfake images of individuals, primarily women, are superimposed onto explicit content, causing emotional distress and reputational damage. In addition to this, deepfakes have also been used in identity theft, where criminals impersonate individuals to carry out fraudulent activities (IndustryWired) (Larry Jordan)(JIER).
Solutions and Policy Recommendations
Addressing these ethical challenges requires a multi-faceted approach. First, public awareness is crucial. People must be educated on the risks of deepfakes and how to identify manipulated content. Technological solutions are also necessary, such as AI-driven detection systems that can identify deepfakes by analyzing inconsistencies in video and audio (IndustryWired).
On the policy front, stronger legal frameworks are essential to combat the malicious use of deepfakes. Laws must penalize those who use deepfakes to deceive, defraud, or create harmful content, such as non-consensual pornographic material. Ethical standards for AI must also emphasize consent, transparency, and responsibility to prevent abuses of the technology (Larry Jordan) (IndustryWired).
The ethical implications of deepfake technology underscore the importance of balancing innovation with accountability. As this powerful tool continues to evolve, it is crucial that society develops both the technological safeguards and legal measures needed to mitigate its potential harm.
In recent years, social media has become an essential tool for educational institutions seeking to connect with nontraditional college students – those who may be older, working full-time, or juggling family responsibilities while pursuing their education. Understanding the types of social media platforms that resonate with this demographic, along with effective strategies and preferred hashtags, is vital for reaching and engaging these learners.
Types of Social Media Platforms
LinkedIn: As a professional networking site, LinkedIn is particularly appealing to nontraditional students who are looking to advance their careers. Colleges can use this platform to share career resources, job postings, and networking opportunities.
X (Twitter): While its user base tends to be younger, Twitter is effective for real-time updates and engaging in conversations around current trends in education. Hashtags play a crucial role here for visibility.
YouTube: Video content is increasingly popular, and YouTube serves as a platform for tutorials, webinars, and testimonials from fellow nontraditional students. This medium can help demystify the college experience.
TikTok: Although primarily associated with a younger audience, TikTok is gaining traction among various demographics, including nontraditional students. Creative and informative short videos can effectively capture this audience’s attention.
Effective Strategies for Engagement
To effectively engage nontraditional college students on social media, educational institutions should consider the following strategies:
Authenticity: Share real stories and experiences from current nontraditional students. Highlight their challenges and successes to create a sense of community.
Supportive Content: Provide resources specifically tailored to the needs of nontraditional students, such as time management tips, financial aid information, and study strategies.
Interactive Posts: Encourage engagement through polls, Q&A sessions, and discussions. This fosters a sense of belonging and encourages participation.
Consistency: Consistently post content to keep the audience informed and engaged. A consistent presence helps build trust and familiarity
Preferred Hashtags
Using the right hashtags can significantly enhance the visibility of posts targeting nontraditional college students. Here are some effective hashtags:
#NontraditionalStudents: This hashtag specifically targets the demographic and connects them with relevant content.
#AdultLearners: A fantastic way to reach older students returning to education.
#CollegeLife: General, yet effective, this hashtag can attract a wide audience.
#StudentSuccess: Showcase achievements and support resources.
#LifeLongLearning: Emphasizes the value of continuous education, appealing to nontraditional learners.
Conclusion
Social media is a powerful tool for engaging nontraditional college students. By leveraging the right platforms, employing effective strategies, and utilizing targeted hashtags, educational institutions can create meaningful connections and support for this diverse group of learners. As the landscape of higher education continues to evolve, understanding the preferences and needs of nontraditional students will be key to fostering an inclusive and supportive academic environment.
By focusing on these strategies and insights, colleges can better serve nontraditional students, enhancing their educational experiences and outcomes in an increasingly digital world.
References
McFadden, C. (2020). “Social Media’s Role in Higher Education,” Journal of Educational Technology.
Smith, A. (2019). “Exploring Nontraditional Students’ Experiences.” American Journal of Educational Research.
There was a time when the primary job of journalism was simple: report what happened.
A public official made a statement. A corporation announced a policy. A government agency released a report. Journalists gathered the information, published it, and trusted readers to draw their own conclusions.
In a slower world, that approach made sense.
Today, information moves at a speed that previous generations could never have imagined. Headlines are shared instantly. Screenshots travel farther than full articles. Social media posts often reach millions of people before supporting facts, corrections, or clarifications can catch up.
As a result, a growing question has emerged:
Is reporting what was said enough, or does journalism have a responsibility to provide immediate context?
This question extends far beyond politics. It applies to business, healthcare, science, technology, law enforcement, finance, and nearly every other area of public life.
Imagine a company executive making a bold claim about a new product.
Imagine a public official announcing a major policy change.
Imagine a social media influencer sharing alarming information about health, safety, or the economy.
In each case, the statement itself may be newsworthy. But the audience also needs to know what evidence exists to support it.
The challenge is that modern information consumers often encounter only fragments of a story. Many people see a headline but never read the article. Others see a screenshot without context. Some encounter information through reposts, clips, or summaries created by third parties.
In that environment, simply repeating a claim—even when accurately attributed—can create confusion.
This does not mean journalists should become advocates, activists, or arbiters of truth. Their role is not to tell people what to think.
Their role is to help people understand what is known, what is unknown, and what evidence exists.
A statement can be reported accurately while still being incomplete.
Context is what transforms information into understanding.
For example:
A headline can report that a claim was made.
A stronger story explains whether independent evidence supports that claim.
A stronger story identifies what experts know, what remains uncertain, and what questions are still unanswered.
None of this requires taking sides.
It requires providing readers with the tools they need to evaluate information for themselves.
This challenge has become more important as misinformation spreads more easily than ever before. False information can travel around the world in minutes. Corrections often arrive much later, if they arrive at all.
The result is a growing gap between what people hear and what they know.
Closing that gap requires more than simply relaying statements.
It requires context.
It requires verification.
It requires transparency about uncertainty.
Most importantly, it requires recognizing that modern audiences do not simply need access to information. They need help navigating an environment flooded with competing claims, conflicting narratives, and constant noise.
The future of journalism may not depend on who reports information first.
It may depend on who provides the clearest understanding of what that information actually means.
In an age where everyone can publish, the most valuable service is no longer repeating what was said.
It is helping people understand what is true, what remains uncertain, and why the difference matters.
They imagine government posters, staged rallies, or television broadcasts telling citizens exactly what to think. They assume they would recognize it immediately.
The reality is far more subtle.
Today, conditioning often arrives one headline, one viral post, and one comment section at a time.
Over the last several years, I have noticed a pattern that repeats itself across social media. A crime occurs. The victim and suspect are immediately identified by race, religion, nationality, or immigration status. The story spreads rapidly, often accompanied by emotional language designed to provoke outrage.
“A White mother killed by a Black robber.”
“An illegal immigrant accused of assault.”
“A Muslim suspect.”
“A Somali gang.”
The details change, but the formula remains the same.
The tragedy itself becomes secondary. The focus shifts to the identity of the people involved.
What makes this so effective is that no one has to explicitly tell you to hate anyone.
Nobody says, “You should fear Black people.”
Nobody says, “You should distrust immigrants.”
Nobody says, “You should be suspicious of Muslims.”
Instead, you are shown the same association repeatedly until your brain begins making the connection on its own.
Psychologists call this availability bias. We tend to judge the frequency of something based on how easily examples come to mind. If every crime story you see highlights a suspect’s race or immigration status, you begin to believe those characteristics are central to the problem—even when statistics may not support that conclusion.
The process works because it feels like you reached the conclusion yourself.
Meanwhile, thousands of crimes that do not fit the preferred narrative receive little attention. Murders happen every day. Assaults happen every day. Robberies happen every day. Yet only a handful become national stories.
Why?
Often because they can be used to reinforce an existing narrative.
The result is that entire communities become associated with crimes committed by individuals.
A teenager commits a robbery.
Suddenly people are discussing an entire race.
One immigrant commits a crime.
Suddenly millions of immigrants are viewed with suspicion.
One person behaves terribly.
An entire group is expected to answer for it.
Imagine applying that standard consistently. Every White person would be judged by the actions of the worst White criminal. Every Christian would be judged by the actions of the worst Christian. Every police officer would be judged by the worst officer. Every immigrant would be judged by the worst immigrant.
Most of us recognize immediately how unfair that would be.
Yet we often fail to notice when the same logic is applied to groups we already view as outsiders.
This is why media literacy matters.
When you see a headline, ask yourself:
Would this still be a story if the races were reversed?
Would this still be a story if immigration status were omitted?
Would this still be a story if the religion were never mentioned?
Most importantly:
Am I being informed, or am I being conditioned?
There is a difference between reporting facts and encouraging fear.
Facts help us understand reality.
Fear encourages us to see enemies everywhere.
Every victim deserves justice. Every family deserves compassion. But when tragedies are selectively amplified to create suspicion toward entire groups of people, the conversation is no longer about the victim.
It becomes about manufacturing division.
History shows us where that road leads.
The most dangerous propaganda is rarely the kind that demands hatred outright.
It is the kind that quietly teaches it, one story at a time, until people no longer recognize they are being taught.
A giant inflatable depicting Elon Musk appeared in Times Square ahead of SpaceX’s IPO. Some people laughed. Others were outraged. News outlets covered it. Social media amplified it. Millions of people who otherwise would have ignored the debate suddenly had an opinion.
Whether you agreed with the message is almost beside the point.
The inflatable did exactly what it was designed to do: capture attention.
We live in an age where attention has become one of the most valuable commodities in the world. Politicians know it. Corporations know it. Activists know it. Media outlets know it.
The modern battle is no longer simply over policy. It is over visibility.
A century ago, governments relied on newspapers, radio broadcasts, and public rallies to shape public opinion. Today, the tools are different, but the objective remains the same. Viral clips replace newsreels. Algorithms replace newspaper editors. Giant inflatables replace political posters.
The people protesting Elon Musk understand the same lesson that Elon Musk himself understands: if you want to influence public conversation, you must first command public attention.
This is why modern politics increasingly resembles entertainment.
Presidential campaigns become reality television. Billionaires become celebrities. Activists become influencers. News becomes content. Outrage becomes engagement.
The result is a society where symbolism often travels farther than substance.
A giant inflatable can generate more discussion than a thousand-page policy proposal. A meme can reach more people than a congressional hearing. A viral video can shape public opinion faster than a detailed investigative report.
None of this means the underlying issues are unimportant. Questions about artificial intelligence, corporate responsibility, taxation, wealth concentration, government spending, and public accountability deserve serious discussion.
But serious discussion rarely goes viral.
Spectacle does.
The inflatable in Times Square is not the story. It is a symptom.
The real story is that we now live in a culture where every side—politicians, corporations, activists, media personalities, and ordinary citizens—is competing in the same attention economy.
The winners are not always those with the strongest arguments.
Often, they are simply the ones who create the most memorable image.
One of the most fascinating aspects of modern politics is that public opinion is often shaped less by direct experience and more by communication.
As a student of Digital Media Management with a focus on Advertising and Public Relations, I find it interesting how discussions about election integrity have evolved over the last several decades. While election disputes have always existed in American politics, the way those disputes are communicated, amplified, and consumed has changed dramatically.
Before 2020, most Americans—Republican, Democrat, and Independent—generally accepted election outcomes even when they disliked the results. There were recounts, lawsuits, and accusations of misconduct from time to time, but the idea that entire national elections were routinely illegitimate was not nearly as dominant in mainstream political discourse.
What changed was not necessarily the existence of election safeguards. What changed was the level of public distrust surrounding those safeguards.
From a public relations perspective, trust is one of the most valuable assets any institution can possess. Whether the institution is a corporation, nonprofit organization, government agency, or media outlet, public confidence directly affects legitimacy. Once trust begins to erode, restoring it becomes significantly more difficult than maintaining it in the first place.
This is where the conversation becomes less about statistics and more about narrative.
Narratives are powerful because they provide people with a framework for understanding complex issues. Most citizens do not have the time or resources to personally verify every claim made about elections, government operations, public health, economics, or foreign policy. Instead, they rely on trusted sources to help interpret information.
The challenge emerges when competing narratives become more influential than shared facts.
If people are repeatedly told that elections are being stolen, manipulated, or controlled—even when evidence is insufficient to overturn results—public confidence can decline regardless of whether widespread fraud exists. Conversely, dismissing concerns without transparency can create the perception that questions are not being taken seriously, which may deepen distrust rather than alleviate it.
In communication theory, perception often influences behavior as much as reality itself.
This does not mean election fraud never occurs. Fraud exists. No serious observer argues otherwise.
However, from a systems perspective, cases involving double voting, ballot tampering, fraudulent registrations, or other election crimes can also be viewed as evidence that safeguards are functioning. Investigations, audits, voter-roll maintenance, criminal prosecutions, and oversight mechanisms exist precisely because no system is perfect.
The more important question becomes one of scale and proportionality.
If documented cases are relatively rare compared to the total number of ballots cast, does that suggest a system experiencing widespread failure? Or does it indicate that existing safeguards are largely working as intended?
These are questions worth discussing thoughtfully because the answers influence public policy, voting access, election administration, and ultimately public confidence.
Digital media adds another layer to this challenge.
Algorithms reward engagement. Outrage generates clicks. Fear encourages sharing. Content that provokes strong emotional reactions often spreads faster than content that provides context or nuance. As a result, narratives that emphasize crisis, corruption, or catastrophe can gain traction regardless of whether they accurately represent the broader reality.
This dynamic is not unique to election discussions. It appears in debates about crime, immigration, healthcare, education, and countless other public issues. The underlying communication principles remain the same: repeated messaging shapes perception, perception influences belief, and belief influences behavior.
For public relations professionals, this presents both an opportunity and a responsibility.
Effective communication is not simply about persuading people. It is about building credibility through transparency, consistency, and trust. When institutions fail to communicate effectively, information vacuums emerge. Those vacuums are often filled by speculation, misinformation, or narratives designed to exploit uncertainty.
A healthy democracy depends on more than secure elections. It also depends on public confidence in those elections.
Protecting election integrity is important. Equally important is ensuring that citizens have access to accurate information and transparent processes that help them understand how those systems work.
In the digital age, trust may be one of the most valuable forms of social capital we possess. Once it is lost, rebuilding it becomes one of the greatest communication challenges any society can face.
The conversation about elections, therefore, is not only about ballots, audits, or voting procedures. It is also about narrative, perception, and the powerful role communication plays in shaping public confidence.
And from a Digital Media Management perspective, that may be the most important lesson of all.
Rhonda Fitzgerald-Hunter 