SOCIAL media often reminds me of being back in high school and peer pressure, the demand for conformity with the in-crowd of the moment.

On political social media, it takes the form of the #mustcondemn phenomenon, where people are expected to immediately distance themselves from something that has just happened, regardless of how much they know about it. What's clear, among all the noise and fury, is that the failure to condemn the latest great offence is akin to support, and people tend to follow the line first and think later.

As is often the case when we've all set our stalls out on social media in the strongest terms, if the thinking-later part suggests the initial reaction might have been the wrong one, we're far too stubborn to backtrack. It's all about that sense of absolute, uncompromising right and wrong. Changing your mind is like admitting defeat, and it often feels like the death of productive discussion.

Last week's "must condemn" incident arose after female comedy collective Witsherface performed a "rap off" at the Scottish Independence Convention event on the second anniversary of the indyref.

In it, one of the performers referred to Scottish Conservatives leader Ruth Davidson as "Ruth Dykey-D", a nod towards the fact that Davidson is gay.

Twitter erupted at this supposed homophobic slur on Davidson. It was beyond contempt, tweeters quickly concluded, as a video lasting under a minute was bounced around the network. Even I had tweeters frantically demanding I comment on it and make my position clear – I’m still not sure why.

Yessers, it seemed, should toe the line of condemnation and do it quickly, lest the whole independence movement be labelled homophobic.

But one person in particular didn't toe that line. SNP MP Joanna Cherry QC, who is herself gay, was quick to tweet: "Definition of mansplaining = men & boys telling a lesbian who's been out for 30+ years what she should and shouldn't be offended by."

She added: "For many years lesbians have self referenced as dykes now it seems we must apologise to others for no longer finding the word offensive. Lol."

Upon further inspection of the story, it emerged that the sketch was co-written by comedian Karen Dunbar, who is also gay.

Context is everything, particularly when we're talking about comedy and satire, and words must be considered within it. The reclaiming of the word "dyke" is common in the lesbian community. When the back-story is known, this does not scream "nationalists in homophobic slur against unionist" to me at all, but that was the context social media immediately moulded it in.

Dunbar was furious at this misrepresentation, retorting: "As a gay woman who has experienced horrendous homophobia, I feel confused that anyone could interpret anything in the rap as being homophobic.”

In modern Scottish politics, social media just loves to frame issues in nationalist vs unionist terms, but to carelessly pull nuanced LGBT issues into that battleground was incredibly insensitive and misplaced.

Some argued that it wasn't the right setting for edgy, shocking humour. However, comedian Janey Godley performed at the same event in a set that mocked attitudes towards Catholics, Protestants and autism. Outrageous? Of course. Funny? Yes. Why? Because satire is often brutal in its delivery, and it tackles society's biggest taboos.

Others believed the Witsherface sketch was inappropriate because it wasn't performed in a decidedly gay setting, as though gay comedy must be separated from the straights in case a homophobe happens to laugh as well.

There were more nuanced arguments, particularly outside of social media, about taking care over the use of language, and exploring the wider effects of using controversial words in art. Reading thoughtful, well-argued pieces about the issue was refreshing, as was the knowledge that I didn't have to tick a box at the end and pick a side.

On social media, the debate about a word became a political football, and the pressure to condemn mounted rapidly. Joanna Cherry was lambasted for refusing to play, but I say, good on her.

We're terrified to have honest conversations on social media in case what we say is misconstrued or misrepresented by somebody else. We begin to care more about image than about saying something important.

But the issue has been framed and this will continue to be dredged up well into the future as a point-scoring exercise. The LGBT community, sadly, is the one most likely to be swept aside in a haze of endless demands for condemnation.