Among the estimated 100,000 people who attended the Denver Comic Con last month, a small but vocal group made themselves heard through social media.

“Let’s see how this ALL MALE panel about women in comics goes,” wrote Christy Black in a Twitter message that has since been shared more than 750 times.

Culture blogs immediately picked up the story, and within days sites like Slate, the Hollywood Reporter and others jumped on board, echoing debates that have become more frequent in recent years as women, minorities and LGBT groups have protested their lack of representation not just at cultural conventions, but in pop culture in general.

Grass-roots activism and social media’s instant reach have combined to offer tools for holding publishers and broadcasters to higher standards, chastising them for excluding the full spectrum of faces and voices in TV shows, films, video games and, yes, even comic-con panels.

The Denver Comic Con panel in question, “Women in Comics: Creators and Characters,” did not, in fact, feature any female panelists. Bruce MacIntosh, Comic Con’s programming director, countered that it was poorly named, as it was intended to provide an academic overview of women in comics — not present-day female comic-book artists and writers.

That did little to quell the chorus of voices calling for change at the convention.

Real-time reaction

Guests Crystal Skillman, a playwright, and Trina Robbins, a historian inducted into the comics hall of fame in 2013, hastily assembled an all-woman “flash panel,” which the Comic Con granted a room at the Colorado Convention Center on the con’s final day.

“It was a really impressive turnout for a last-minute addition,” said Emily Singer, a podcaster who sat on the flash panel. She estimated 50 to 60 people attended. “What matters is that they allowed us to organize (it) and they’ve been very gracious after the fact.”

Despite that, and the Comic Con’s longstanding diversity mission — which this year held a number of other panels addressing marginalized voices and representation in comics — the uproar continued.

“Other people reacted and had to take care of the problem for the Denver Comic Con, which is unfortunately kind of a habitual thing for them,” said Kronda Seibert, who runs the smaller AnomalyCon and also programmed diversity panels at this year’s Denver Comic Con.

“It felt like they were saying, ‘Well, this was a last-minute thing to begin with,’ and we wanted them to say, ‘We won’t do that again,’ ” said Pam Steele, who organized the Denver Comic Con panels “Beyond Bechdel” and “Trans and Genderqueer Representation in Comics.”

Programming director MacIntosh said not only did the con offer many other panels that addressed diversity and representation — like a well-attended Native American Women in Comics event — but that many female creators (artists, celebrities, writers) told him privately that they preferred not to be on any “Women in”-themed panels.

“They said it pulls them out of what they’re doing because it doesn’t focus on creativity, it focuses on gender,” said MacIntosh, who admitted that the Con should have done a better job of evaluating the panel that caused that uproar.

The wider dialogue

These debates stretch around the country as, for example, devotees of GamerGate (a generally anti-feminist movement claiming to be concerned about ethics in gaming journalism) have protested not being able to wear their branded T-shirts for being perceived as threatening to women. Last year, feminist critic Anita Sarkeesian was forced to cancel a number of events due to death threats from apparent GamerGate supporters.

The cycle of slights and harassment, protests and backlash has brought new attention to the notion of improving women’s experiences at cultural events. But the reality of inclusiveness, status and power in pop culture is more encouraging than the Denver Comic Con slip-up suggests. Technology is way ahead.

The democratizing power of the Internet was predicted long before anyone knew what it would mean: grassroots impulses bubble up more quickly in the wired world. Traditional gatekeepers like TV networks are racing to catch up with the culture.

Rather than producing content to wrap around commercials using focus groups, the vision of a single auteur is more often beaming through, sometimes starting as “webisodes” or podcasts and making the leap to TV.

While the disparity in behind-the-scenes jobs in Hollywood continues, and the American Civil Liberties Union has called for an investigation of systematic discrimination, technology is moving faster than the Directors Guild, the ACLU and the organizing infrastructure of conventions.

If the film directing numbers are grim — women represented only 7 percent of directors on last year’s 250 top-grossing movies — some of the best TV content is stunningly progressive:

Amy Schumer speaks feminist volumes in every “Inside Amy Schumer” sketch on Comedy Central (her “12 Angry Men” parody was an instant classic; her middle-age, A-list women’s Viking-style sendoff was another).

“Empire,” the breakout hit of the year on Fox, brought hip-hop soap opera to the masses with an African-American cast. Creator Lee Daniels (“Precious”) drew on his experience as a gay black youth to relate the prejudice within his community. “American Crime” from John Ridley (“12 Years A Slave”), a short-run series on ABC taking a hard look at race, religion and the justice system, pushed the boundaries of broadcast TV with gritty realism.

“Broad City,” born as a Web series, jumped to cable TV as a scripted series on Comedy Central with Amy Poehler as a powerful backer. Technology enabled this burst of offbeat millennial feminist creativity to seep into the mainstream.

“Girls,” “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” “VEEP,” “Jane the Virgin,” “Orange is the New Black,” “The Good Wife.” All exhibit feminist ; all provide running commentary on gender inequality. (Only “Jane” and “Good Wife” are on broadcast TV; the rest influence mainstream culture from the cable/streaming fringes.) Among the loudest examples of technology’s role as a leveler: “Serial,” a podcast taped mostly in the producer’s basement, drew international attention, won another season and introduced a new generation to journalistic storytelling.

“Transparent” from Jill Soloway, perhaps the year’s most influential upstart, debuted on Amazon with Jeffrey Tambor in the role of a family patriarch transitioning from Mort to Maura. The dramedy not only won critical acclaim, it encouraged other networks to explore a previously taboo topic. Tambor won awards, furthering the niche program’s push into the mainstream. Emmy nominations, due in July, are expected to take note as well.

The new flashpoints

Where “Roseanne” championed blue-collar feminism and “Murphy Brown” pushed respect for single-mother career women in the 1980s, today’s flashpoints are women in cults ( “Kimmy Schmidt,” “Big Love”); women seeking fulfillment beyond sex (“Girls”); women devalued in middle age (Schumer); women and addiction (“Mom,” “Orange” ); transgender issues (“Orange” and “Transparent”); rape (another Schumer topic); and white privilege (“Empire,” “Scandal,” “Orange”).

Netflix does not disclose audience figures, but ballpark estimates based on percentages of those watching on devices other than TVs suggests the most popular shows, like “House of Cards,” Netflix’s most-binge-watched series, are reaching audiences comparable to that of hit network series.

Independent research shows that if 10.7 percent of the almost 41 million U.S. Netflix subscribers watched at least one episode of “Daredevil,” that would mean nearly 4.4 million tuned in over the first 11 days, according to Variety. A cultural hit like “Orange” isn’t necessarily a ratings hit, but it can drive conversation.

The fact that Shonda Rhimes has a substantial piece of network TV real estate (“Grey’s Anatomy,” “Scandal,” “Private Practice,” “How to Get Away with Murder” and soon, “The Catch”) and, as an African-American female, is an outspoken advocate of diversity in the industry, is a sign of progress. Her success is often cited as a reason for ABC’s proliferation of comedies about Asians (“Fresh Off the Boat”) and African-Americans (“Blackish”). The effect ranges far beyond the screen.

As technology shrinks the world, international headlines more quickly seep into First World consciousness. Human-rights violations are referenced in TV dramas and are increasingly intolerable to globally aware millennials.

TV may point the way, but it will take more than one Shonda to make a difference. Backlash against a goof at a local convention can do only so much. An embarrassment by the ACLU won’t solve the problem, either. It will take a cultural shift, and technology is leading the charge.