“People are watching. Values are showing.”
You’ve probably seen it before.
Someone posts something heartfelt. Maybe it’s about a humanitarian crisis or a fundraising appeal. Maybe it’s just a quiet call to care – about refugees, conflict zones, environmental devastation, or yes, children starving on the other side of the world.
Then in comes the comment.
Cold. Blunt. Designed not to inform, but to provoke.
“Nobody in Australia gives two hoots about people starving on the other side of the world.”
It’s the kind of line that doesn’t just shut down empathy – it throws it under a bus, reverses back over it, and then posts a meme to celebrate the ride.
And yet, as predictable as it is, it works.
It gets reactions.
It triggers outrage.
It attracts backup.
The poster’s “tribe” shows up. So do the people who want to push back.
And within a few hours, the post isn’t about the original issue at all.
It’s about that comment.
The comment that’s no longer about the suffering. It’s about the person who made it about themselves.
And the energy that could have been used to support or inform or take action is now being used to argue with someone who never came to learn, only to dominate the thread.
Eventually, the admin steps in.
“Hi all. Comments outside the group rules and obvious trolling are now reaching overload levels. We appear to be going down a Facebook rabbit hole. As such, we are locking comments. Thank you to those that engage respectfully.”
And just like that, the whole thing shuts down.
No discussion.
No momentum.
No outcome.
This is the world of the disruptor.
They don’t always fit the stereotype. Some are aggressive and obvious. Others are more subtle, smugly asking “reasonable” questions while spreading doubt or stirring division.
And then there are the strawman specialists. The people who twist what’s been said into something it never was, then argue fiercely against that distortion. They’ll take a comment about caring for people in crisis and turn it into, “So you’re saying we should ignore our own country?”
And sometimes, the derailment is even more calculated. The conversation begins with a plea for basic human compassion, food, safety, dignity and ends in a rabbit hole about geopolitics. Suddenly it’s all about Hamas. As if the actions of a regime justify the suffering of children. As if starvation is deserved because of who controls the border.
This isn’t nuance. It’s a tactic. A way to sidestep empathy by turning the victims into suspects. And once that happens, there’s no space left for humanity , just cold rationalisation and echo chambers clapping back in agreement.
And before you know it, the thread isn’t about the issue anymore, it’s about defending a point no one actually made. That’s the rabbit hole. And too often, we fall in.
What they have in common is intent. Their goal isn’t dialogue. It’s derailment.
And the more charged the topic, the more likely they’ll appear.
Strawman arguments don’t build dialogue – they burn it down.
We could say ignore them. But we know that’s easier said than done, especially when the issue feels personal or urgent.
We could block them. But often by then the damage is already done, the space has been flooded, and meaningful conversation has drowned under it.
Or, we could start recognising what’s happening for what it is.
Not just trolling. Not just bad behaviour.
But performance is often driven by ego, dressed up as bold truth-telling.
The people doing it rarely think they’re being watched. But they are.
Not just by their tribe – the loyal few who jump in to defend every outburst – but by everyone else who’s watching and thinking, “When you mock pain, you reveal more about your values than you realise and none of it is admirable.”
So what can we do?
We don’t need to match someone’s energy to show who we are.
We don’t need to follow them down every rabbit hole, or correct every misrepresentation.
When someone builds a strawman, twisting our words to make them easier to attack, the goal isn’t clarity. It’s control. And we don’t have to give it to them. See footnote
We just have to keep our focus.
Keep our integrity.
And keep speaking to the people who are still listening.
Because not everyone in the thread is arguing.
Some are watching.
Some are learning.
And some are waiting for a voice that sounds like reason.
Let that be you.
“Outrage is loud, but character lasts longer.”
Footnote:
How to Handle a Strawman Argument Without Losing the Thread
You don’t have to match their energy.
You don’t have to defend something you never said.
When someone responds to a post about human suffering by making it all about geopolitics or criminal groups, that’s not a real response. That’s a strawman. It’s meant to shift the focus, create doubt, and exhaust you.
Here’s how to bring the conversation back:
-
🔁 Refocus:
“This post is about civilian suffering. Can we stay with that?” -
🧭 Clarify intent:
“That’s not what I said. I’m talking about people, not politics.” -
🚫 Don’t follow the bait:
“We can debate governments another time. Right now, I’m talking about hunger. About dignity. About human lives.” -
🧍♀️ Speak for yourself:
“You don’t have to agree with me. I won’t let compassion be dismissed as moral confusion.”
Not every comment needs a reply. But when you do respond, respond with purpose, not performance. Don’t argue for the algorithm. Speak for the people still listening, still learning, still trying to care.
That’s how we keep the thread intact.
That’s how we keep our voice.
#SocialMediaDisruptors #EgoAndOutrage #DigitalCivility #OnlineIntegrity #TribalThinking #PublicValues #WatchWhatYouAmplify #TrollingWithConsequences #RespectfulDialogue
