There was a time when an argument might begin over coffee at the kitchen table and end with someone putting the kettle on for another cup.
People disagreed. Sometimes quite loudly. Politics, religion, taxes, the neighbours and the latest decisions coming out of city hall were all fair game.
But somewhere along the way, disagreement began turning into something more personal. Increasingly, it seems we aren't simply questioning one another's opinions. We're questioning one another's intelligence, motives and even basic decency.
What happened?
It's tempting to point a finger at social media. Facebook, X, TikTok and the endless parade of online personalities have certainly changed how we communicate.
But blaming technology alone would be too easy.
Social media didn't invent prejudice, dishonesty, political extremism or the human desire to belong to a group. Those have been with us for centuries.
What technology has done is give those tendencies an extraordinarily powerful amplifier.
And the evidence is becoming difficult to ignore.
According to Statistics Canada, 80 per cent of Canadians reported encountering online information they suspected was false or misleading at least once a month in 2025. Nearly half said distinguishing truth from falsehood had become more difficult over the previous three years.
Perhaps even more concerning is the business model behind much of what we see.
Social media companies compete for our attention. Their systems learn what keeps us watching, clicking, commenting and sharing.
Unfortunately, anger can be very effective at holding our attention.
A 2026 study published in Nature found that engagement-based news feeds amplified emotionally charged and hostile political content compared with chronological feeds. Researchers also found that alternative feed designs could reduce that exposure without making the platforms less enjoyable.
In other words, the technology doesn't have to work this way.
So who's steering the ship?
The uncomfortable answer is that no single captain is standing at the wheel.
Technology companies determine how information is distributed. Politicians and commentators compete to shape public opinion. Advertisers help finance the system. Traditional media organizations, including community newspapers, compete for an increasingly fragmented audience.
And every time we share something without checking whether it's true, we become part of the machinery ourselves.
That doesn't mean we're bad people. It means we're human.
We naturally gravitate toward information that supports what we already believe. We trust familiar voices. We sometimes mistake confidence for credibility.
Seniors face a particular challenge because many of us grew up in an era when publishing information required considerable resources. A printed newspaper, a television broadcast or a radio news report generally passed through an editorial process.
Today, anyone with a smartphone can create something that looks remarkably like legitimate journalism.
But this is not simply a seniors' problem. Statistics Canada found that Canadians across age groups reported similar difficulties distinguishing true information from falsehood.
Artificial intelligence is adding another layer of complexity. Photographs can be fabricated. Voices can be imitated. Videos can depict events that never happened.
Yet AI can also help us investigate claims, compare sources and understand perspectives different from our own, provided we remember that AI itself can make mistakes.
So how do we begin repairing the damage?
Perhaps by remembering that disagreement isn't the enemy of a healthy society. In many ways, it's essential to one.