Why We Keep Fighting About the Same Digital Strawmen

The same topics reemerge periodically on social media, and I always wondered why. I mean, I haven't seen any new perspectives; same old back and forth. But. And this is an important but. Those posts have a fantastic engagement. Lots of comments and shares. That makes me wonder: Are we genuinely running out of original things to say? Or have some of us mapped out the hidden algorithm, realizing that certain outrage-inducing topics generate so much engagement that every content creator is desperate to replicate the hit?

For context, my feed is filled with book-related stuff: people writing books, sharing tips on writing/marketing said books, books they read and loved or hated, and books they can't wait to read. Welcome to my universe!

But every so often I see threads of discussions on whether audiobooks are reading, Goodreads is exclusively a readers' place and authors should stay out of it, people asking for book recommendations without saying what they enjoy/hate, trigger warnings, unpopular beliefs that turn out to be rather popular, etc. And then, the recurring discourse cycles kick in.

Trigger warnings

By the way, talking about trigger warnings, I stumbled across what might be the strangest "unpopular opinion" thread yet. And based on the comment section, it wasn't actually unpopular at all. 

The OP stated that babies and children shouldn't be listed in a book’s trigger warning section. I'm sure you already have an opinion on that and you haven't even finished reading my blog post yet, right?

To be clear: they weren't talking about books where something tragic or harmful happens to a child—where a warning would make total sense. Nor were they talking about the surprise pregnancy trope, which is a known dividing line for many readers. Apparently, some childfree readers want a strictly childfree Happily Ever After, or want an upfront heads-up if a story features children at all.

I was genuinely curious about the context behind this debate, so I did what I usually do: I rolled up my sleeves and read through the entire comment section looking for the source behind this hot take.  Here's what I noticed:

1. Despite being framed with the classic hook, "A deeply unpopular opinion I hold...", practically every single commenter agreed with the original poster. Kids aren't trigger warnings. The opinion wasn't unpopular; it was overwhelmingly consensus-driven.

2. There was zero mention of where this rule supposedly came from. Who, exactly, demanded that children be tagged as a trigger warning? Which author was forced to do this?

3. Absolutely no one in the comments section asked the OP where they got this information. So, no one questioned the validity. They were just happy to share their thoughts, or feel outraged.

That third point made me realize something fundamental—and a little disheartening—about how we interact online.

The truth is often nowhere near as important to us as we like to pretend it is. People like to share their opinions and feel heard. I think that's why controversial topics have so much engagement. A hot topic (whether it's true or nor is irrelevant) is often a pretext we use to voice our takes, validate our own preferences, find our tribe, and feel heard.

Outrage breeds engagement

The thread blew up because it was a perfectly engineered outrage trap. It relied on semantic dilution—in some online reader communities the distinction between a trigger warning and a mild content preference has been completely erased.

Based on what I've seen on BookTok and generraly in romance reader communities, readers who want "Childfree HEAs" (Happily Ever Afters) often ask for warnings if a child suddenly appears in an epilogue or main plotline, simply because they don't enjoy reading about kids. That made some authors and reviewers include tags like: TW: Pregnancy, TW: Sudden epilogue baby, or TW: Children present.

I believe the OP is pointing out the absurdity of labeling the simple presence of a human being as a "Trigger Warning" (which implies psychological distress/PTSD), rather than just calling it a "Content Note" or "Trope."

But saying that something isn't a trigger warning, just a preference (or that it should be a tag), doesn't generate outrage. No outrage means no engagement.

Manufactured Outrage via Vocabulary

I think framing the practice as a moral failing (treating children as problematic) elevates a petty categorization debate into a value judgment about society's view on children. And, of course, everyone has an opinion about that.

The post generates heat by intentionally conflating over-broad tagging habits by a few reviewers with a societal trend of "treating children as triggers."

The term "Trigger Warning" has been so diluted that people now use it to flag mild dislikes, which in turn creates a endless loop of reaction posts calling out how "fragile" readers have become.

That’s the secret fuel behind the infinite engagement loop. Controversial topics—even entirely fabricated ones or reframed truths—spark instant emotion. They make us feel like we're part of a grand conversation, fighting the good fight for common sense.

We might not be running out of things to say, but as long as we value feeling heard over checking facts, the exact same online debates will keep spinning around in circles forever.