In the digital age, the democratization of commentary has created a curious paradox. On one hand, online comment sections offer a rare opportunity for public discourse—platforms where anyone with an opinion and a keyboard can contribute to the broader conversation. On the other hand, these spaces often mutate into echo chambers of misinformation, vitriol, and misplaced rage. For writers and scientists—especially women—who dare to speak publicly, the comments can be both a wellspring of affirmation and a gauntlet of abuse. This duality raises an important question: When does the value of public engagement begin to erode under the weight of its most toxic byproducts?
Many of us online writers greet the comment section of our work with a mixture of angst and awe. That someone took the time to read our writing and sound in can be personally rewarding and encouraging. However, there are socially detrimental aspects as well. At what point does the good outweigh the bad – especially when these comments mislead or foster reactionary views, like disparaging or demeaning women scientists?
The comment section of an internet website provides a fabulous forum for readers to express appreciation, acknowledge good writing and educational impact, correct errors, and even express disagreement where the issues are debatable if only to expose a wide variety of socially prevalent views. But there are potential dangers. Beyond ad hominem attacks, which, while socially disruptive (and possibly illegal as defamatory), may have value in contributing to the discourse – illustrating where the “other” (aka dark) side stands – the most dangerous comments are those that seek to mislead under the cover of “truth.”
One example of this “benign” rhetoric can be found in some of the anti-vax literature. The pamphlet “PEACH”: The Vaccine Safety Handbook – A Parent’s Guide, published anonymously by a New Yorker, disseminated in New York, England, and Israel, fueling the 2018-2019 measles epidemic in the targeted communities, is one example. With 37 glossy, colorful pages replete with cartoons, stories, and bogus science, the booklet lists just short of 200 references. It is hard to believe the author read or understood what she included because most of these citations are either adverse to the claims made or irrelevant. However, it is safe to assume that most readers of this “authoritative booklet” have not read them. Why bother when the booklet itself contains the personal testimony of real women with harrowing stories, vignettes of women, ignorant of science, who have suffered real trauma and conveniently base their misfortunes, like Job’s friends, on something they think they can control –vaccines. But the references are there -- in three pages- providing a fulsome -- if false -- veneer of respectability and credibility.
The practice continues in comments. Purveyors of objections add links that do not support their positions but add a veneer of respectability and credibility. The lesson is clear: Reader Be Ware- check out the links!!
Another tactic is to divert attention from an overarching perspective- such as the relatively unacknowledged contributions made by Dr. Rosalind Franklin to the discovery of the double helix-structural model of DNA – a common tactic of stealing the thunder -- especially of women scientists. Instead, one of the comments in my article on Dr. Franklin focused on an issue of historical divisiveness: how Maurice Wilkins, the third member of the Nobel Trio [1], got critical evidence enabling Watson and Crick to capture the prize.
X-ray crystallograph #51- was the only experimental evidence supporting their claim, as published in the seminal article in Nature. That the picture was taken in Dr. Franklin’s lab, using her techniques, cannot be controverted. That Wilkins gave the picture to Watson, igniting his AHA moment, without Dr. Franklin’s knowledge or permission, must also admitted. As a lawyer, I believe that Wilkins was guilty of intellectual theft. Regardless, focusing on Wilkins, Watson, and Crick diverts attention from the greatness of Dr. Franklin.
While internet authors are responsible for providing truthful and credible posts, the question becomes, what is the responsibility of the commenters? Given the 24/7 of social media and the virtual futility of changing the mind of the poster, we cannot expect writers to address each comment. Who, then, bears the burden of credibility arbiter? How do we prevent the public from being submerged in supercilious, self-serving “super-mation“ (which I define as information that has a life of its own, intended to overload and overwhelm the reader with misleading facts or disinformation)?
Once envisioned as the digital agora, the comment section is too often an unmoderated theater of illusion—where emotion triumphs over evidence and rhetoric over rigor. While some comments add nuance or offer constructive criticism, others cloak falsehoods in faux authority, reinforcing echo chambers that erode trust in science and public health. As writers and readers, we must learn to navigate this terrain with humility and skepticism. Engaging with the public is vital, as is our vigilance against misinformation masquerading as discourse. Otherwise, we risk allowing the loudest voices—rather than the wisest—to shape our collective understanding.
[1] Dr. Franklin died before the Nobel was awarded to Watson, Crick, and Wilkins in 1962. The rule precluding posthumous winners was not enacted until 1974; another rule preventing splitting the award among more than three individuals was in place. Dr. Franklin could have been awarded the prize in Chemistry, while the three others received it in Medicine. The only explanation was that Watson minimized and diminished her contribution, which was further obfuscated by Wilkins.
