A running question is why should we put up with, or pay any attention to, those who will not reveal their identity? Some argue making people honest about who they are will improve the "quality" and tone of online debates in arenas such as Comment is free.

Trolling, flaming and a host of other bad online behaviour have led to calls, most often from outside or above comment threads, to prevent people posting under pseudonyms. Leo Hickman recently complained that "it is impossible to trust the motives of this army of DIY auditors." Yet while we know the challenges anonymity presents us, we must also consider the effect of forcing people to identify themselves. I would argue any benefits are outweighed by what we would lose. Anonymity online sets us free. The facility to create our own content and comment on websites would be far less valuable to us were it restricted to posting under "real" names.

Journalists smile proudly from profile pictures having earned positions from which they feel confident to commit thoughts of varying controversy to print and web. Yet not everyone can write so freely – although their words are no less valuable.

Michel Foucault once wrote: "If the prisoner is never sure when he is being observed, he becomes his own guardian." His dystopic vision of a panopticon filled with "docile bodies" relied on the omnipresent threat of surveillance and the conformance it provokes. His thinking built upon Jeremy Bentham's architectural vision of a watchtower from which inmates of every prison cell were never sure when they were being observed.

In our online panopticon where forum posts, Guardian comments and political blogs can all be found by employers via a simple Google search, what might be the result of forcing people to specify their offline identity? Would commenters – good, bad or rabid – take the time to stop by and debate an environment story, the Chilcot inquiry, or women's place in the workplace if they thought their opinion was instantly traceable? Would they self-censor, keen to keep their online reputation free of political opinion. Would they just participate less?

The Anonymous Liberal explains on his blog: "Who am I? For what it's worth, I'm a litigator at a large national law firm (at least until I figure out how to make a living doing this). Until then, I'll just have to go by AL."

Some might consider the loss of a few nervy corporate stooges worth it to dampen the deafening noise in the loudest threads. Yet we must remember those most keen on manipulating the debate are best at sophisticated fabrications – and most likely to have the greatest resources at their disposal. If we tied every person's real name to their online commentary, those who benefit most from steering conversations would simply construct false identities in order to spout their sponsored verbiage.

While those toiling away as public servants, headmasters, advertising executives, postal workers, or even just married to those in the public eye would be loathe to contribute when it could jeopardise careers, relationships or friendships. And our debates, and their potential to inform and inspire readers and participants, would be less for it.

Anonymity has a glorious history. Works by Voltaire, Benjamin Franklin, Zoe Margolis and other great thinkers were all published under assumed names. The first amendment to the US constitution recognises its importance and grants substantial protection to anonymous speech.

Illegal contributions can be, and always have been, dealt with by the law or by moderators trained in dealing with illegal content. And as for the rest of it – deep inside comment threads people deal with anonymity and trust in their own way. Most who indulge in participatory media are well aware of the potential existence within conversations of people paid to contribute in a duplicitous way. Commenters often speculate about or deliberately ignore suspected lobbyists intent on posting commercial messages or vexatious, repetitive tirades. Yes, debates are often heated. But although it may seem combatants are all talking past each other, in reality they are often learning from one another. And then there are those edifying moments when a pair at loggerheads find common ground and move forward, not in total agreement, but with a shared understanding nonetheless.

Last month Ethan Zuckerman of Global Voices said: "Online anonymity is under threat and is unlikely to remain substantially the same in the next decade … there's a concerted effort to eliminate anonymity to address concerns about criminal behaviour, fraud, spam and terrorism. Because there's not an organised anonymity lobby, I fear this is a battle the anonymous will lose."

We must not lose. Online anonymity gives us so much more than we would gain from stripping it away. It gives us the freedom to know what people really think, for better or for worse. It is the essence of democracy for us to be able to conduct the difficult debates out in the open, where they can be challenged. Rather than trying to chain people to their names, we should be seeking to protect the current capacity we have to deliberate without fear of reprisal, and putting our efforts towards superior architecture for displaying, moderating and encouraging constructive behaviour in large-scale online discussions.

I may not like what some of our mysterious online acquaintances have to say, but I defend their right to say it under whichever name they please.