Controversial comments: Mia Freedman on The Project. Credit:Network Ten Of course, had she tweeted a stupid comment, the backlash would have been worse. Instead, she is attacked for not being conspicuously empathetic enough on Twitter. Have we finally reached Peak Idiocy? This year was one in which the gut and the mind – on the public battlefield of social media – continued their unsightly tug-of-war. It appears that the gut has triumphed. Feelings now hold more sway than fact. Don't think, don't analyse. Just emote. In no small part, our addiction to cheap offence has fuelled the victory of the gut.

Overwhelmed: Australian cricket captain Michael Clarke over Phillip Hughes' death in November. Credit:AFP On Channel Ten's The Project, Mia Freedman uses a clumsy analogy involving gay people and paedophiles. Do we give her a chance to explain herself? Do we pause to check if she has a record of supporting gay rights? Do we account for her tripping over her words and – gasp! – give her the benefit of the doubt? Of course not. Uproar: When are people not offended by radio jock Kyle Sandilands? Quick, everybody! To the outrage-mobile!

A solitary ABC worker tweets a single, incorrect update about injured cricketer Phillip Hughes, who later died. It is thoughtless and insensitive, and no doubt upsetting to anyone who knew him. The post is swiftly deleted and an apology is issued – but not before it is widely shared by many who condemn the ABC for tweeting it while simultaneously sharing it themselves. Some even fret about how Hughes' family will feel if they see it. Then hit the "re-tweet" button anyway. All sense of proportion has been lost, as is often the case in these situations. People don't just respond to the mistake of one ABC employee; they furiously condemn the whole news division. At the extreme end are those who somehow detect "incompetence" across the entire broadcaster through a single tweet. Two days later, Malaysia Airlines apologises after it "unintentionally caused offence". The company had tweeted: "Want to go somewhere, but don't know where?" A poor choice of words. But that's all. Yet one news outlet describes the post as "cruel", implying malicious intent. Are they suggesting that Malaysia Airlines actually devised a scheme to remind potential customers of those who had recently been killed? Anyone who proposes such a notion is not to be trusted with sharp objects or his own money, much less be allowed anywhere near a commercial passenger jet.

For offence junkies, though, such thought processes rarely occur. Or indeed, thinking of any kind. Rather, they let their gut take control. And when the gut fills in for the mind, the results look something like this: "I feel offended; ergo, that celebrity or media outlet is guilty of being offensive. I am offended; therefore, I am right and they must apologise!" It is worth remembering that offence is taken, not given. Hurt feelings are often a healthy by-product of free speech. If you declare that you're offended, that should not signal the end of a debate. It should be the start. Strangely, I found it easy to give up cigarettes. It's sugar that's my weakness. The more I consume, the more I crave. After a few months on the sweet stuff, I'm in a weird state of feeling perpetually foggy, yet wired.

It's the same with offence. It tastes good at first, much like that bag of white chocolate and honey popcorn chunks. It's a thrill to be outraged – and to broadcast that outrage to the world. But eventually, you find yourself indiscriminately taking umbrage at everything. Not just at inaction on climate change, but at an offhand remark from a morning TV host. Not just at shocking Aboriginal poverty, but at a silly Instagram post from some radio presenter you'd never previously heard of. After a while, you feel relentlessly fatigued and irritated. Everything has devolved into a slush of relativism. You now have a comically distorted view of the power of celebrities as role models. You seem personally aggrieved when Blocko and Boofhead from Bloke FM – a station you never listen to anyway – say something inane. It's not all relative. Some things are more important than others.

Let's be clear. I am not arguing against outrage. I am arguing for its judicious deployment. Goodness knows I'm the first one who should heed my own advice. I shudder to think of the hypocrisy lurking in my social media accounts and story archives. I hope I've at least made some thoughtful critiques and contributions to my area of specialty, media and entertainment. No doubt I've also loudly emoted about some trivial celebrity utterance, achieving nothing more than letting myself bask in the warm glow of my own outrage. (As I said, it really is addictive.) When it comes to things that really make me mad – cuts to foreign aid, for instance – I'm yet to actually do anything. Quite possibly because I've got my hands full with all this public emoting. I love looking at those "predictions for the new year" stories that appear in December, mainly so I can gawp at the astrologers who make said predictions. (Why do these people always wear satin? And what's with their vaguely sinister smiles?) Yes, that was a clunky segue into my own offence predictions for 2015. Gazing into my crystal ball of outrage, I foretell that over the next 12 months: 1. An Australian TV or radio host will "cause uproar" with a single remark. (They have 15 hours of airtime to fill each week. If you were in their shoes, you'd eventually say something dumb, too.) But everyone will seize upon this one comment as a reflection of their "true colours".

2. A commercial TV station will axe a low-rating show. Fans will react as though the station has axed off a limb instead. Some will try to whip up a boycott, others will say vile things on Twitter. Then a snarky website with an audience just a fraction of the TV station's will lecture this "legacy media" outfit, without irony, on how to be "relevant". 3. A famous person will 'Cause Uproar in The Twittersphere'. ("Twittersphere" is a term beloved by journalists but yet to be uttered by an actual person in conversation. See also: "moniker" and "eatery".) Perhaps their comments are worthy of condemnation. Perhaps they have a point. Maybe they just expressed themselves badly and really do deserve the benefit of the doubt. But few will stop to ask these questions in the stampede to judgment. The celebrity will be bullied into an apology. If that apology does not strike all the right notes, they must apologise for their apology and start again. Enough. Let's make 2015 the year of Judicious Outrage. Let's not react to every bit of celebrity idiocy. Every thoughtless utterance from every reality show goon. Every misstep from every media outlet.

Stop. Think. If you have something to say, by all means, say it. Just don't spout your "gut instincts" without subjecting them to some rudimentary critical analysis. Or be like Iggy. Fierce, passionate, clever, articulate. And unencumbered by a compulsion to "post your feelings" at every turn. As the woman herself put it: "The world is too hung up on what is or isn't said on Twitter. There is an actual world out there, and multiple ways you can promote change." mlallo@fairfaxmedia.com.au