April is Genocide Remembrance, Condemnation, and Prevention Month — a time for solemn reflection on humanity’s darkest chapters. For the Jewish community, this month holds even deeper meaning, as it bridges the end of Passover and the commemoration of Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. But this year, remembrance alone is not enough. As we mark 80 years since
, we must confront an alarming reality: antisemitism is once again on the rise, and it’s being supercharged by the unchecked spread of hate and misinformation online.
In February, Kanye West, a global celebrity,
wore a swastika-emblazoned shirt
and
. Millions watched, shared, debated or scrolled past in silence. For many Jews, this wasn’t just offensive — it was terrifying. The images and rhetoric mirrored the early propaganda tactics found in newspapers and other media channels that laid the foundation for the Holocaust. Today, social media platforms don’t just echo this hatred — they
amplify it at unprecedented speeds
. Designed to reward engagement, these platforms push the most provocative, outrageous content to the forefront, often targeting the youngest and most impressionable users.
A recent
commissioned by the Toronto Holocaust Museum underscores this problem. Sixty-one percent of Torontonians rely on social media for news; among Gen Z, that number climbs to 80 per cent. Yet 82 per cent admit they don’t always verify what they read. This creates a dangerous pipeline for misinformation and hate, especially when 76 per cent of respondents believe social media spreads antisemitism — and when
antisemitic hate crimes in Toronto
had surged by
a year after Hamas’s October 7 attack on Israel.
The effects that social media have on society aren’t just theoretical or statistical, they’re deeply personal. We, as Jews, look over our shoulders. We hesitate before identifying ourselves. We debate removing jewelry with symbols that represent our religious pride. We wonder if a job rejection, a thanks-but-no-thanks to a business proposal, a lost opportunity, a teacher’s unexplained disapproval is just what it seems — or if it’s something more. That uncertainty isn’t paranoia; it’s the byproduct of centuries of history repeating itself in quieter, modern tones. And today, that repetition has grown even louder because of these platforms that have become megaphones for hate.
Misinformation. Propaganda. Fake news. Call it what you will — the effect is the same. Lies repeated often enough, especially in emotionally charged ways, begin to feel like truth. In an age of instant sharing and fleeting attention, our best defense is not silence or outrage — it’s education. That’s why we must empower the next generation to think critically, especially about what they see online.
So, how do we start?
It begins with conversation. At the Toronto Holocaust Museum, we teach visitors — especially students — to ask the right questions when faced with questionable content. While many of us inherently know we should be checking the source and determining if the information is factual, we’re quick to reshare our aunt’s Facebook post or an influencer’s TikTok rant without checking if the original information came from a reputable organization that has fact-checking procedures in place.
In addition to checking facts, we also need to check our emotions at the door. Fear and outrage can cloud our reasoning, bypass our critical thinking and polarize our judgments. Finally, we must confront our own biases and seek out diverse perspectives to avoid echo chambers.
While these steps may sound like common sense, in a world built for speed and dopamine hits, our society’s greatest challenge is slowing down. Critical thinking takes time — and that’s exactly what social media discourages. At the Museum, we’ve seen first-hand the power of taking a pause and making room for discussion. More than 30,000 students have visited since opening in 2023, and with each visit we witness the transformation that happens when young people are given the space and time to question, reflect, and learn. This gives me hope. The more we reach people — of all ages — the more we can build a generation of informed digital citizens who know how to spot misinformation and stop it before it spreads.
So, as we approach Yom HaShoah, my takeaway is not just to reflect — but to slow down. Slowing down is how we become less susceptible to the rapid consumption that comes with social media. It’s how we give ourselves the time to think deeply, question what we see, and challenge what doesn’t feel right. It’s how we break the endless cycle of hate.
Dara Solomon is the executive director of the Toronto Holocaust Museum.
National Post
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