The Dangerous Illusion of Universal Opinion Entitlement

With the recent developments in geopolitics, and the war in Israel/Palestine in particular, the massive reach and coverage it gets is leading to a phenomenon that I didn't notice before (or just didn't give enough attention to).

I'm talking about how everyone feels entitled to an "opinion" on everything.

Even though I'm an opinionated person myself, I started rethinking this whole concept of having an "opinion" - this idea that anyone can hold thoughts, ideologies and ideas about anything, without any limits and without any consequences. Looking at the current situation in the world, I'm understanding how dangerous this really is.

The Harmless Territory: Where Opinions Belong

When we're talking about arts or personal tastes, having an opinion makes perfect sense. It's amorphous, subjective, and in many cases - not something we can really "choose." Our past experiences, cultural background, and personal history dictate what we gravitate toward and what we reject.

I'll argue that even in these "harmless" domains, many opinions are formed on limited exposure. Claiming your taste in food is "pizza" without ever eating vegetables is peculiar, but it's essentially victimless. Your preference for Marvel over DC comics, your love of jazz over hip-hop, your choice of iPhone over Android - these opinions exist in a bubble where the stakes are personal comfort and social conversation, nothing more.

These opinions are like choosing your favorite color. They're expressions of individual preference that don't require expertise, research, or deep understanding. They're emotional responses dressed up as intellectual positions, and that's perfectly fine when the subject matter is equally lightweight.

Dangerous Territory: Opinions Become Weapons

Something insidious happens when we carry this same casual approach to opinion-forming into domains that demand expertise, nuance, and real-world consequences. This is where opinions become dangerous - not just wrong, but actively harmful.

Take geopolitics, for instance. When browsing through TikTok or Instagram reels about the Israel/Palestine situation, we encounter a chaotic mix: some videos present facts, others present opinions, and many are pure propaganda. But here's the crucial difference that most people miss - not all of these deserve equal weight or consideration.

The 22-year-old influencer who spent thirty minutes reading Wikipedia articles shouldn't have the same platform credibility as Middle East scholars who've dedicated decades to understanding the region's complexities. Yet social media algorithms don't distinguish between expertise and enthusiasm, between research and reaction.

The Expertise Gap and the Dunning-Kruger Effect

This brings us to a psychological phenomenon that perfectly explains our current predicament: the Dunning-Kruger effect. People with limited knowledge in a domain overestimate their competence, while those with genuine expertise often underestimate theirs. In practical terms, this means the loudest voices on complex topics are often the least qualified to speak.

Consider the absurdity: we wouldn't accept medical advice from someone who "did their own research" on WebMD over a trained physician. We wouldn't trust our financial planning to someone whose only qualification is watching YouTube videos about cryptocurrency. Yet when it comes to geopolitics, international law, or complex social issues, suddenly everyone's a scholar.

The problem isn't just individual ignorance - it's the weaponization of that ignorance. When uninformed opinions spread faster than informed analysis, when emotional reactions get more engagement than thoughtful discourse, we create an information ecosystem that rewards the wrong voices and punishes careful thinking.

The Social Media Amplification Problem

Social media platforms have supercharged this phenomenon by democratizing not just opinion-sharing, but opinion-amplification. The same algorithm that helps you discover new music also determines what millions see about international conflicts. And these algorithms don't optimize for truth, accuracy, or expertise - they optimize for engagement.

This creates a perverse incentive structure where the most inflammatory, simplistic, and emotionally charged takes get the widest reach. Nuanced analysis doesn't go viral. Complexity doesn't generate clicks. "It's complicated" doesn't make for good hashtags.

The result? We've created a world where having an opinion is valued more than understanding the subject matter, where confidence is mistaken for competence, and where the speed of your reaction matters more than the depth of your analysis.

The Real-World Consequences

These aren't just academic concerns. When uninformed opinions shape public discourse, they influence policy, elections, and ultimately, people's lives. The casual geopolitics expert sharing their "take" on international conflicts contributes to a climate where complex issues get reduced to tribal team sports.

We see this in how quickly people adopt absolute positions on issues they learned about fifteen minutes ago. We see it in the way nuanced discussions get shouted down by those who mistake passion for expertise. We see it in how legitimate scholars and journalists get drowned out by the noise of a million amateur analysts.

Toward Opinion Humility

This doesn't mean we should silence discussion or create some kind of expert oligarchy. But it does mean we need to develop what I call "opinion humility" - the intellectual honesty to recognize the limits of our knowledge and the wisdom to defer to those who've done the work to understand complex issues.

Opinion humility means asking ourselves: Do I know enough about this to have a meaningful perspective? Have I engaged with primary sources, or am I just recycling what I've seen on social media? Am I adding value to the conversation, or am I just adding noise?

It means distinguishing between having thoughts about something and having an informed opinion worth sharing. It means recognizing that some topics require more than casual interest - they demand serious study, multiple perspectives, and intellectual humility.

The Path Forward

The solution isn't to stop having opinions altogether - that's neither possible nor desirable. Instead, we need to become more discriminating about when our opinions matter, when they're worth sharing, and when we should step back and listen to those who know better.

We need to rebuild respect for expertise without falling into blind deference. We need platforms that elevate informed discourse over viral reactions. We need educational systems that teach critical thinking and source evaluation. Most importantly, we need individuals willing to admit "I don't know enough about this to have a strong opinion."

In a world overwhelmed by uninformed certainty, intellectual humility isn't just a virtue - it's a necessity. The stakes are too high, and the issues too complex, for anything less.

Because in the end, everyone may be entitled to an opinion, but not all opinions are entitled to the same respect, platform, or influence. Understanding the difference might be one of the most important intellectual skills of our time.