What I had thought about was what a hot take I could share to gain brownie points with my friends, or prove I was on the right side of something. And, with no thanks to social media, that knee-jerk reaction is something that feels insidiously normal now.
With the world at our fingertips, we are constantly surrounded by people telling us what to think and encouraging us to share those thoughts. If we don’t, it can be seen as complicit and therefore wrong.
There is very little incentive to sit with something and think, “mmm, I’m not sure yet”, and it feels like a moral failing to say: “I don’t have an opinion on that.”
This isn’t exactly new, of course; humans have always been communal. Social isolation or being seen as an outsider makes us feel we’re in danger, so we express common views to tell everyone: “Hey, I’m one of you!”
The difference is that we can now form and spread those opinions almost instantaneously – often before we’ve had time to learn about what we’re actually reacting to.
For example, imagine if Tom Cruise’s infamous 2005 interview with Matt Lauer happened today.
While promoting War of the Worlds, Cruise was challenged over his criticism of actress Brooke Shields for taking antidepressants to treat postpartum depression and calling psychiatry a “pseudoscience”, among other controversial takes.
Of course, the interview received major backlash at the time but if that same interview happened now, Cruise probably wouldn’t still be one of the biggest movie stars in the world.
Within minutes, hundreds of thousands of clips of his comments would be circulating across TikTok, Instagram and X. There would be reaction videos from people who had experienced postpartum depression, compilations of Cruise’s previous controversial comments and, inevitably, demands for celebrities closest to him to pick a side.
Whether you watched the whole interview or just the most outrageous 20-second clip of it, you’d be talking about it, which is the biggest difference between now and then.
In 2005, you could avoid the tabloids or news for a couple of days and live in ignorant bliss. In 2026, our feeds are full of platforms boosting outrage because it drives engagement.
We are therefore encouraged to consume the controversy and rewarded with likes and views for doing so even if we don’t really believe in it.
Just look at what happened last March when football star Jorginho publicly accused Chappell Roan’s security team of aggressively confronting his 11-year-old stepdaughter.
Despite Roan denying seeing the child or directing any security to approach them, (something her team quickly confirmed), she faced weeks of intense scrutiny and targeted bot-driven attacks. Once it came out that not all the backlash was authentic, many people retracted their once firm opinion, saying they knew she would never do that.
It could have been avoided had we not raced to share an opinion or move with the herd.
Which brings me back to Waititi and the Breast Cancer Foundation ad. I did end up sending my message to the group chat, but I added an extra line: “or is that just me being a hater for the sake of being a hater?” because the more I think about it, the more confident I am that I answered my own question.
While our society makes us feel our opinions are the thing that helps us stay connected to people, maybe we’ve become so comfortable having one and trying to prove what it says about us, we’ve forgotten that they aren’t always necessary.
At the end of the day, I don’t really care whether Waititi or a talented female director directed that ad.
I do, though, care about women checking their breasts for lumps and bumps, and if it’s a male director, producer and actor who are going to help make that happen, then mission accomplished.
