We tend to picture trolls as ugly little creatures hiding under bridges, but today they hide behind screens, and they’re louder than ever. Most people have no idea where these digital troublemakers actually “work.” Sometimes it’s a dim room filled with devices and automated scripts running nonstop. Sometimes it’s a one-person operating dozens of fake profiles. Sometimes it’s just a bored human who enjoys stirring chaos. Regardless of who or what is behind the screen, the goal is always the same, they want your reaction.  When you argue with a troll, you’re not winning, you’re feeding them. When you defend yourself against a bot, you’re not clarifying the truth, you’re fueling the algorithm it runs on. These accounts thrive on emotional energy, especially anger, and the more you react, the more they appear.

I experienced this firsthand. As a nurse and educator, I felt compelled to correct medical misinformation I was seeing online. I would do this in a kind manner with peer-reviewed studies or evidence-based practice. I would get some likes, and of course that made me feel validated. But then came the flip side, the nasty comments and the anger that was coming at me.  Before I realized it, I was in a rabbit hole. The emotional highs and lows took over, and the positive energy I normally bring to teaching was slowly replaced by frustration and anger. What started as education became emotional exhaustion. That’s when I began researching bots and trolls more seriously.

My first blog, Stir the Pot Bot, taught me an important lesson: don’t engage. Yet I continued anyway, because correcting misinformation felt necessary and responsible. What I eventually learned is that you can’t educate a troll and you can’t correct a bot. They aren’t there to learn; they’re there to provoke. Every response feeds them. Every correction makes them stronger. Engagement,  even when well-intended,  becomes a win for them.

Bots and trolls exist because there is profit and power in chaos. Some are designed to divide communities, distract people from real issues, push misinformation, trigger emotional responses, and amplify hostility so platforms stay busy. Others exist simply because provoking strangers delivers a quick dopamine hit. Either way, their mission depends entirely on someone taking the bait.

This is where human nature comes in. Human nature is the mix of instincts, emotions, and behaviors we all share with, the need to belong, to be understood, to feel safe, and to make sense of the world around us. We read comments because we’re looking for validation. When comments align with our worldview, we feel comforted and affirmed. When they challenge it, we feel tension, defensiveness, or even hurt. That reaction isn’t weakness, it’s biology. Our brains are wired to seek agreement and avoid rejection, constantly scanning for belonging and threat.

Trolls are people who intentionally stir conflict. They rely on inflammatory comments, personal attacks, and off-topic arguments to derail conversations and shut down real dialogue. Sock puppets are fake accounts run by real people to hide their identity or create the illusion of widespread support. Bots are automated accounts that mimic human behavior liking, sharing, and commenting on a massive scale to amplify messages and create artificial trends. All three are designed to manipulate, not to engage, which is why correcting them never works.

Feeding trolls costs more than we realize. It steals time we’ll never get back. It drains emotional energy meant for real life. It elevates negativity in our feeds and rewards behavior we claim to oppose. Worst of all, it conditions us to defend ourselves against ghost accounts that aren’t real or don’t even believe what they’re posting. The most powerful response isn’t winning the argument; it’s refusing to play. Starve them, and their reach collapses.

So, what if, instead of reacting, we redirected that energy? What if we used it to lift someone up, teach a child something hopeful, write something meaningful, notice a small blessing in our day, or share encouragement that reaches real hearts? That’s where real power lives. Hope grows where attention goes. Trolls shrink where attention disappears.

The internet will always have trolls, but they don’t deserve a seat at your emotional table. I have learned my lesson. Now, when I see a comment that does not align with my truth, I remind myself not to feed the trolls. It keeps me in a more positive state of mind and allows me to use my time to try and teach and grow positivity through another outlet like this one.  Let the bots yell into the void without you standing there to absorb it. And remember, don’t feed the trolls. Feed your hope instead.