The law of conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; instead, over time it changes form. As I peruse my history across social media, as I hit that edit or delete button upon a post, a tweet, a shared article on LinkedIn, the similarity between this law in physics and the reality of our digital world has never been more clear.

Opinions are powerful. They strike us at times we would least expect and, at once, they demand to be heard. Their call is not merely to our immediate friends, family or peers. Instead, there is the call to speak globally, to all of our thousand friends, hundred followers and 500+ connections. Our opinion must be Shared, it must be Liked, it must be heard.

So as I sit upon a chair steadily less comfortable, yet strangely feeling more and more like a bed as the minutes tick closer to dawn — opinion strikes.

Through our choice to express our opinions on a steadily grander scale, we have described — perhaps inadvertently — that very law of conservation as it applies to social media.

Let us say this:

Once realized, the impact of our opinions cannot be destroyed; instead, all that can change is the scope of that impact.

This thought is not new. This an idea neither novel nor a discovery. Instead, it is a known description of the world in which we live — and yet it is one that is frequently overlooked. Each and every one of us have fallen victim to the curious thoughtlessness, that excitement and devil-may-care attitude that comes when in the grip of a powerful opinion.

As one both strongly opinionated as well as endowed with, what some might (politely) call, an overabundance of self-confidence, I have fallen victim to this phenomenon more times than many.

There is a danger in opinion. With every keystroke we open ourselves up to a hungry, bloodthirsty world. But, before we explore this danger, let us first take a moment to understand the birth and progression of the opinion.

Let us begin by understanding our enemy — the enemy that lives and breathes within all of us.

Phase 1: Realization

We see an image and it strikes us. As we walk through Dundas Square we are beset with innumerable advertisements — for movies, books and television. The music of the buskers and street performers play in our ears. Each and every one of these moments is an opportunity for opinion.

“Believe!” Shouts the man on the corner as he holds out a church pamphlet. And then, as you cross the intersection, another calls out for a different faith, a conflicting religion. You feel your elbow jostled as a student walks without looking, their face lit by the glow of their screen, headphones pressed tightly into their ears.

As you look around, more than half annoyed, you catch a glimpse of the article on their phone — 10 Things Guys Don’t Know About That Girls Love. Of all the influences around you, this is the moment. This is the moment where an opinion is born, an opinion is realized.

Perhaps it was the first of the ambiguous ‘Things.’ Perhaps it was the subject or writing of the article itself. Perhaps it was the publishing magazine. Whatever the catalyst may be, an opinion has been formed and begins to grow angrily, dangerously within your mind.

This is the first step. This is the point of realization.

Phase 2: Commitment

With the digital world at our fingertips we might, at this point, already have our phone in hand, fingers flying across the screen. We might already be counting down the character limit on our Tweet.

Remember, our opinion must be heard.

More often however, the opinion first begins to ruminate. It begins to bubble and ferment within the dark recesses of our mind. It eats at us such that, soon enough, we find ourselves talking about it — talking about that event and the powerful opinion it formed.

The opinion begins to spread.

At first we say it just to that one person, then just one more. But the more we speak on the subject the more the idea grows within our mind. The more we believe that not only do we have an opinion, but it is the right opinion.

It is this point, as we consider the opinion and become further invested in that opinion, that we commit.

Before, to have our opinion heard was a want. To be heard was something we desired. At the point of commitment, however, that want becomes a visceral need.

Phase 3: Dissemination — Impact

Realization is something that we cannot control. With innumerable stimuli striking us at every moment of every day, for us to develop opinions based upon those stimuli is inevitable.

Commitment is something that grows. As a species built upon a framework of constant communication, for us to keep an opinion to ourselves is against our nature — as alien to us as gills, or time travel.

We must always tell someone.

And here is where the danger lies. In the modern era we are more interconnected than ever before. With a few taps on a screen we can blast our opinion across the internet — not merely to our friends, but to the court of public opinion.

The validity of our opinions and perspectives are no longer measured in personal responses — the opinions of friends, family and peers — now it is built across metrics of Likes, Shares and Re-Tweets on a global scale.

Yet, what we often forget is that, once that opinion has been disseminated, once it is out there, it is permanent. The impact of our opinion has become part of the collective consciousness of the living Internet.

Phase 4: Regret

A few hours pass — a day at most, and the heady rush of realization and commitment begin to fade away. You begin to rethink. The opinion that seemed so profound, so powerful just a short time ago, now suddenly begins to waver.

As the afterglow fades and you look back to the post, to the few likes and the criticizing comments, you bite your lip and feel that gnawing in the pit of your stomach.

This is regret.

As human beings, we are emotional by nature. I would argue that, given any set of stimuli whatsoever, we react first emotionally — and then that emotion is curtailed by intellect. This, a simplified concept not dissimilar to the balance between the Id, the Ego and Super-Ego.

By this perspective, the source of every opinion is emotion. The more powerful the emotion, the more powerfully the opinion takes hold — and the more rapidly it grows through the first three Phases.

Yet emotion is transient, it ebbs and flows like the tides; and soon enough, as emotion recedes, we resurface. We begin to see clearly once again.

Opinions launched through social media couched in emotion are at their most vulnerable. These are the posts subject to flaws in argumentation, knowledge gaps, and false conclusions — and the digital world is ruthless.

An easy example of this is Justine Sacco, the PR representative crucified for her crude, racist tweet en route to South Africa back in 2013. In a single careless moment, Sacco destroyed her credibility at an international level.

Now, while in a single post we are unlikely to do the same degree of damage to ourselves, our reputation and our credibility, the danger still exists.

The only difference is scale.

Each and every one of us exists within our digital brand. The internet might be described as an art gallery, and our face is one of the many framed portraits hanging from its walls. The difference is, that face is ever changing — with our image shifting to reflect our social media presence.

Think back to our discussion on the law of conservation of energy, here as it applies to the concept of an opinion.

Once realized, the impact of our opinions cannot be destroyed; instead, all that can change is the scope of that impact.

In that moment of regret, often times we reach for the easiest and most available button — the delete key. And with that simple click of the mouse, that opinion to which we were so committed just hours ago vanishes.

So, we’re fine, right? In this, we have destroyed the current and future impact of our opinion.

Of course not.

All that has changed is the scope of our impact.

Our portrait, our digital brand, has been changed — irrevocably.

Our credibility amongst our circle of peers has been damaged — irrevocably.

Over time memories fade, yet they are never truly lost. Once an opinion has been introduced into the digital world, the living internet, it exists as an unchanging fact.

It has been given life, like our own Frankenstein’s Monster.

When our peers, now and in the future, peruse the gallery of the internet, the impression that they take from our portrait will never again be the same.

The nature of emotion is to be a double edged sword. Through emotion we find passion, inspiration — yet that selfsame emotion is that which can lead to rash decisions and flawed conclusions, draw us down the path to digital ruin.

It is intriguing how even the simplest of concepts become, in practice, the most complex. Before we hit that Post, before we send that Tweet, let us take a step back. Let us take a moment to look at the mathematics of our opinion and subtract emotion.

Let us take a moment and consider the coming future. When we walk through the internet-gallery and come across our own portrait, how will this post, tweet, opinion affect the face looking back at us?

Will we like who we see?