Looking at things through a consequentialist soda straw like that is a terrible way to make decisions -- it is like trying to decide if I will drive or walk sol

Looking at things through a consequentialist soda straw like that is a terrible way to make decisions -- it is like trying to decide if I will drive or walk solely based on the number of birds I might kill. Decisions are much larger than this single aspect. Some people hearing a crazy idea might adopt it. Some might criticize it. Some might learn how crazy ideas work. Some might adopt it for a little while, then reject it, and be wiser through the experience. Someone who goes on a crusade to fix this one falsehood might be exposed to it. You cannot know what all effects the sum of a discussion has. But I can certainly tell you this: censorship doesn't work. It didn't work in ancient Rome. It didn't work in the Holy Roman Empire. It didn't work in Soviet Russia. It doesn't work in Communist China. It's not working right now for vaccine disinformation. Driving crazy ideas underground does not make them disappear, and it does not make them unpopular -- it makes them spread without criticism. And in fact, telling people they can't do something generally makes them want to do it. It appears to work for a little while, but I cannot think of a single historical case in which this actually worked out. Somehow the banned ideas always seem to survive beyond the death of the regime that banned them. We will always have crazy ideas. We will always have crazy people that buy them. Depriving them of respectability is perhaps a little helpful, but opens up a different danger: just who gets to decide what and who is crazy? I didn't vote for you, and I didn't vote for Spotify either.