One of Word on Fire’s eight principles is a “special commitment to new media.” Like St. Paul in the Areopagus (Acts 17:22–34), in order to evangelize, we need to go where the people are. For better or for worse, many people today are most easily encountered online. As Bishop Barron has said, “If we don’t get into the new media game, then we just get hopelessly behind the curve. We’ll just get out-narrated. And then the Christian message won’t be heard.”
Yet, as with many tools, new media can be used poorly. Víctor Cardinal Fernández recently mentioned one present danger in this regard during his opening meditation of the plenary session of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (January 27, 2026): “On any blog, anyone—even without having studied much theology—can express his or her opinion and condemn others as if speaking ex cathedra.” I do not think that many people would deny the facticity of this observation. Yet how many Catholics—especially those with widely followed platforms—think this concern applies to them?
To be clear, I think there are actually quite a lot of Catholic social media outlets that do great work in the realm of evangelization and theology. I avail myself of them on a fairly regular basis. I relish the fact that I can easily access commentary and scholarly presentations by accomplished and faithful Catholic intellectuals. It is a true blessing.
At the same time, I do encounter a significant amount of concerning content claiming to be Catholic. I will not name names here, since I do not want this article to focus on adjudicating specific content creators’ works. Rather, I simply want to reflect on some elements that frequently accompany such production and, at the same time, encourage all content creators to examine their consciences with respect to their own output.
First, there is frequency. Especially for those who rely on ad revenue, sponsorships, or patron support, there is a strong incentive to churn out content on a constant basis. I have seen some individual creators post several times a day, almost every single day. From my anecdotal experience, however, the quality of such content is often inversely proportional to the frequency. This is not surprising, of course. If someone posts lengthy videos daily, covering a plethora of various issues, then it is highly unlikely that they have had sufficient time to assess the relevant data points, organize their thoughts carefully, and come to reasonable and well-informed conclusions. Unless they are drawing from a wealth of appropriately conducted prior research, it is far more likely that they are giving knee-jerk, emotional, shallow, and pompous presentations based on their immediate, first-take intuitions than presenting well-supported and substantive analysis of pressing issues.
Success is usually measured in clicks. Hence, clickbait often prevails over comprehensive, well-crafted content.
The above can be true even if the creator is credentialled. Personally, I was much more comfortable “shooting from the hip” before I formally studied theology and during the infancy of my theological studies than I am now after earning three graduate ecclesiastical degrees. There are downsides to overpreparing, but, in general, when a particular question is posed, I am all too aware of how little I have investigated that topic specifically. As Cardinal Fernández noted in the same address, “Today, a theologian normally possesses knowledge limited to a single theological discipline or an isolated topic.” Perhaps those of us in that situation are more aware of this than our audience. It is something that we ought to consider with all due humility.
At the same time, the matter of credentials is another aspect worth considering, even if in a measured fashion. Truthfully, credentials are not everything. I have seen autodidacts produce higher quality works than terminally degreed academics. As the title character in Good Will Hunting says to a Harvard student during a dispute at a local bar: “You dropped 150 grand on a[n] . . . education you could have gotten for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library.” While that’s a bit hyperbolic, there is some truth to it. We ought not assess the validity or soundness of someone’s position solely based upon the degrees they hold or do not hold. Furthermore, non-specialist laity, too, are called to evangelize. Thus, it would be inappropriate to insist that only professional theologians engage in online evangelization.
Nevertheless, Cardinal Fernández’s concern is something we ought to take to heart. There are popular platforms that broadcast the voices of people who present themselves as more well-informed than they actually are. Even if well-intentioned, misleading and mistaken views on issues of Catholic teaching and theology are not uncommon, and people often devour it and rally around it ostensibly because they hear in the creator’s words what they themselves are already thinking and feeling. This is particularly concerning when it involves condemnations of magisterial documents or well-respected theologians whose work the person and their audience have never read to any significant extent. The number of times I have heard orthodox theologians being labeled as “modernists” or “heretics” based on fallacious representations of their thought bothers me, especially when I see the high view counts associated with such rants. Yet, sadly, such “influencers” are so called precisely because their influence is vast, despite their lack of actual knowledge of the subject matter or persons about which they speak.
But that’s the downside of social media: Success is usually measured in clicks. Hence, clickbait often prevails over comprehensive, well-crafted content. That’s why, as platforms begin to gain traction, they can be tempted to post more often about current controversies in order to capitalize on the abundance of preexistent outrage among their constituents. Fanning flames is easy. I have dubbed this “clickbait Catholicism.” I have seen previously laudable creators say some downright scandalous things in the heat of the moment because they were convinced that their superficial reading of some complex issue is the only possible correct one.
I have witnessed people with very little (if any) formal training in philosophy or theology habitually condemn well-accomplished theologians and high-ranking ecclesiastical officials known for their staunch orthodoxy over several decades. While Cardinal Fernández takes seriously the grave duty incumbent upon the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith to “reflect, think, and analyze reality, but while also listening to others, welcoming their perspectives” before it undertakes its task of “correcting and condemning,” these folks accrue to themselves the ability to hastily judge accomplished churchmen in the court of public opinion. Based on post rates, some appear to think it their solemn duty to undertake daily detraction or calumny against figures much more theologically astute than themselves. As Cardinal Fernández says, such (social) media moguls feel free to “express [their] opinion and condemn others as if speaking ex cathedra.” This is a problem.
Rage-bait and clickbait: These are the things that sell. Even the most well-intentioned can become complacent as accomplices in perpetuating the problems and pitfalls of social media. Because we are all susceptible to that temptation, we would do well to evaluate seriously and prayerfully our own posting practices. On the positive side, we should also ask ourselves which Catholic personalities do an outstanding job of remaining rational, careful, and charitable in the midst of their interactions with opposing viewpoints. How can we be more like them and less like those whom we resemble much more than we’d care to admit?