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
Rhonda Fitzgerald-Hunter 