I get asked a lot how to get involved in politics. The answer is in the question — just get involved.

Offer to help on a campaign. Deliver signs, knock on doors, make phone calls, anything. But if you get asked to run someone else’s social-media accounts … make up an excuse.

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The job description is basically: “Win the internet every day, make the right people laugh while also making the wrong people angry. Have a distinct voice, but never, ever cross the imaginary line, which moves. If you screw up, you’re probably on your own.”

Not a week goes by in Canadian politics without some form of social-media scandal. Most pass quickly in a day or two, but some fester and bubble for weeks. For the people behind them, they all suck.

Last weekend’s social-media fun was an otherwise innocuous tweet from the Manitoba NDP, wishing that province’s Jewish community a happy Passover. The tweet included a photo of a mom and daughter baking bread together.

The problem is, observant Jews don’t eat bread during Passover.

If you didn’t realize this, go easy on yourself. Yes, of course it’s better to know these things. But if you ask a Jewish friend about this, I’m willing to bet they wouldn’t take offence. For starters, it’s obvious no disrespect was intended. And they probably realize that in a country as diverse as Canada, you’re bound to miss some cultural and religious specifics every now and again.

“OK,” you say, “but they should have googled it.”

Very easy advice to give after the fact. The person who tweeted the infamous, terrible, offensive photo of a mother and child baking bread probably did Google “Passover,” even if they mostly knew what it was. They probably read about the history and significance of the holiday, and if they’re anything like me, watched a clip from The Ten Commandments, because of Charlton Heston.

Did they specifically Google “is it OK to bake bread on Passover?” Almost certainly not — that’s an impossible level of scrutiny. When you’re already working long hours, you just can’t invest a lot of time going down deep into every potential rabbit hole.

Nine times out of 10, a quick check is more than sufficient, and everything is fine. And then there are those times where you’re wrong.

Once, former premier Christy Clark stopped in a vintage-record store, and picked up an album by an old favourite from her youth. Her assistant emailed me a photo, asking to post it to Twitter and Facebook.

You might have heard about this one.

It turns out the “old favourite” was also a convicted pedophile.

Yes, we should have googled his name. But at the time, it seemed safe and innocuous. After all, what could go wrong? It’s just the premier holding an album cover. It never entered anyone’s mind to say, hey wait, did anyone check if this guy is a pedophile?

But it was in the news, they said, she couldn’t possibly not have known. Again, the simple truth is none of us knew. Just because a story was on the BBC for a day or two doesn’t mean everyone has seen it.

Most people who said anything simply pointed out what was obviously an oversight, and we quickly deleted it, with a public note thanking people. But there were some who accused Clark of somehow condoning child abuse.

The combination of politics and social media can be toxic. In particular, it seems to disable the part of your brain that feels empathy. And just as some soulless usual suspects on Twitter twisted an obvious, unfortunate mistake into the worst kind of smear, someone in a dark basement spent their long weekend accusing the Manitoba NDP and/or their leader of being anti-Semitic.

If you’re one of these people, I say two things: First, please get outside more. And second, you’re right; what you’ve been told are innocent, embarrassing social-media mistakes are actually dog whistles.

The kind only idiots can hear.

Maclean Kay was former premier Christy Clark’s speechwriter for five years.