Turn off The Comments
The Worst thing to happen to the internet, and us.
The first rule of the internet has been the same for about the last twenty years: “Do not read the comments.”
Denizens of “the net,” as we used to call it, have long been familiar with this particular rule of thumb. If you want to see where humanity goes to be at its worst, go to the comment section of any article. It doesn’t matter what the subject is or how knowledgeable the author might be on what they’ve presented. With very rare exceptions, the comment section will always have one or two people who seemingly know better than anyone.
Of course, we all break the first rule of the internet; I am chief among all sinners in this regard. I can get drawn into a virtual argument faster than anyone. Whether driven by my desire for truth or simply wanting to add my voice to that of the mob, I go there, I participate, and to make matters worse, I make matters worse.
Comment sections are terrible because it is here that humanity forgets that the other side of the text contains another member of humanity. Just like I am sat here typing out this blog (that someone, no doubt, will disagree with), there will be someone who reads it. I am writing for all y’all after all, as much as I am writing for me. When I am writing, I do think of the eyes that will take in the text and consider, at least for a moment, the ideas that I am trying to communicate. I think about those places where faith and life actually intersect, and I think the comment section is one of those places where we check our faith at the door.
To be clear, I’m not just referring to articles. I’m talking about any online forum that lets us comment, like, dislike, love, or get angry about something someone else has posted. Facebook, X, Reddit, Instagram, and the other “socials” are built on this model of interaction. The only problem with any of this is that we have forgotten the human element. We’ve forgotten who is writing the comment or the post. Most of the time, and it isn’t always anymore, there’s flesh and blood there. And that soul, that heart, and the life, is yearning for connection. When we forget the core elements of what it means to be in relationship with each other, then things go the way they invariably go.
It is the chief problem with taking relationships online. Everything becomes a commodity. The real person and their story often get muted by a carefully curated online persona that they can craft. The National Institute of Health published a study in 2025 titled “The Role of False Self-Presentation and Social Comparison in Excessive Social Media Use.” In the study, researchers found that “social comparison was associated with both higher self-esteem and increased social media use, suggesting that users may feel empowered by comparison but remain dependent on online validation. These results highlight the need for awareness-based interventions that help users recognise how their self-presentation strategies and comparison habits affect their emotional engagement with social media.” In other words, we present our best, most edited, most well-curated selves online to connect and to present the most attractive images of ourselves. But even when we do this, people can still rip us to shreds in the comment section. There are very few guardrails put up by social media to keep us safe from each other.
And isn’t it a shame that the technology that was supposed to connect us acts to divide us?
Isn’t it a shame that we as Christians are using the technology to do what everyone else is? Have we forgotten that we’re supposed to be different?
As Episcopalians, we promise to respect the dignity of every human person. It’s one of the last provisos of The Baptismal Covenant. We recognize that as human beings we bear the image of Christ to one another, but do we think that obligation ends where cyberspace begins? If anything, I think we should be more aware of the promise we made when we go online, because, if what this study I’ve referenced says is true, then people are actually more fragile online than they are in person. If we need to edit, curate, and edit again, then we are truly worried that something we will say will actually make people like us less. They might not even click the like button!
We need to remember that flesh and blood press keys to make the dialogue happen, most of the time. We need to remember that flesh and blood are holy.
We also need to be aware that bots are at work, and are trying to divide and disrupt, and we need to be able to spot them. This guide will help. They are not our friends. They are there to drive us apart and to divide us by setting us against each other and by pushing out information that is not 100% accurate.
But at the end of the day, and at the end of this post, I’m asking us to consider turning off the comment section. I’m asking us to consider, when we see something that someone posted online that we want to talk about, to pick up the phone and not rush to our keyboards. There is power in hearing the voice of another person and actually engaging with them, their inflection, and their passion that does not come through flat text. I’m asking us to reconnect with what makes us human and to turn away from what makes us digital beings. Because…we aren’t digital. We’re analog, and we’re fearfully and wonderfully made by God to run on our native hardware, not on peripherals. Maybe coffee over comments. Maybe dinner over discussion boards. Maybe really being friends, instead of descending into flame wars.
Turn off the comments. Reclaim your humanity. Restore the dignity of another human being by honoring it by being present to it.