Hours after Saturday’s mass shooting at a children’s birthday party in north Stockton left four people dead and many more wounded, the city was still trying to comprehend what had unfolded. The shooting on Lucile Avenue — which claimed the lives of three children and one adult — left families, neighbors and emergency responders in the chaotic aftermath.
About 6 p.m., as police taped off the scene, the public had already turned online for clarity, updates or simply a place to process their shock.
Countless residents found something else: a torrent of victim-blaming, racist stereotypes, misinformation and dismissive commentary that spread across neighborhood pages, comment sections and social media threads with startling speed.
Across local Facebook groups and news comment sections, hundreds of posts whipsawed between condolences and hostility.
“Not a mass shooting. It was a gang related,” said one. Another: “Let’s not act like this was a great area” … “What’s new?”
To some, the violence was the victims’ fault.
Those comments led others to recoil.
“Labeling it ‘gang-related’ is exactly how tragedies like this get brushed aside,” one wrote. Another: “The level of insensitivity and ignorance is disgustingly baffling.”
The cruelty may be shocking, but shouldn’t be surprising, said experts in psychology, mass communication and community violence. Frustration and fear drive the impulse, and online anonymity frees people to be their worst.
But the damage done is not anonymous, said Karen Lee, a psychology professor at Delta College. Online attacks, she said, “make survivors and loved ones feel victimized twice.”
Fear, uncertainty and the need for control
Psychologists say what unfolded in Stockton reflects a pattern they’ve seen after other mass tragedies around the country. Within minutes of the first headlines, the public begins searching for an explanation to make sense of the senseless.
“Some people respond to tragedies like mass shootings by victim-blaming in order to minimize their own fear of becoming a victim,” said Lee, who has a doctorate in psychology and trained at Harvard University and the New School for Social Research. “It’s called defensive attribution: the idea that the victim must have done something wrong — and, therefore, the same thing couldn’t happen to them.”
Victim-blaming, she said, becomes a psychological buffer. It reassures people that violence is predictable and preventable, as long as they make different choices than the victims, even when that belief is unfounded.
Andrew Mendonsa, a clinical psychologist and assistant professor of practice at the University of the Pacific who specializes in clinical and forensic psychology, said another cognitive process often takes hold.
“People use cruelty as a survival mechanism to deal with their feelings of helplessness,” Mendonsa said. “Calling a victim responsible creates an illusion of safety.”
The phenomenon is called the Just-World Hypothesis, he said. Psychologists describe it as the belief that the world is fundamentally fair and orderly, that people generally get what they deserve.
The theory, developed by psychologist Melvin Lerner, suggests that when something terrible happens to someone, observers may assume the victim must have done something to cause or deserve the harm. Researchers say this belief helps people feel the world is predictable, but it often leads to blaming innocent victims to avoid facing the randomness of violence, according to the American Psychology Association dictionary.
Why misinformation surges before facts are known
“After a major incident, fear, frustration, anger and confusion drive a lot of the online response,” said David Main, a retired Lodi police chief who most recently led Delta College’s Police Department and POST Academy before transitioning to full-time faculty. “People want answers immediately, and when they don’t have them, they fill in the blanks with assumptions.”
He has seen this play out throughout his 34-year career in policing, in cases large and small. But today’s information ecosystem, he said, has magnified the effect.
“Social media spreads assumptions at warp speed,” Main said. “Reactions form fast, often before the facts are known.”
And misinformation doesn’t just distort the truth for the general public, it actively complicates investigations.
“Officers often have to spend valuable time looking into and correcting rumors,” Main said. “That slows things down.”
False claims can also discourage witnesses from coming forward if they feel the situation is already being “twisted online,” Main said. And when that misinformation gets repeated enough, he says that narrative can shape how people view their own city.
“A single incident can be made to look like part of a much larger pattern, even when the actual crime data doesn’t support that,” Main said.
The online disinhibition effect: When distance dulls empathy
While victim-blaming and assumptions are tied to fear, the tone of online responses — especially the most hostile ones — often reflects something else entirely.
“People feel much more comfortable expressing their thoughts behind the safety of a keyboard,” Lee said. “Anonymity makes people much more likely to blame victims online.”
Social media removes the human cues that normally trigger empathy: eye contact, tone, shaking voices, tears, Mendonsa said, describing the disconnect as a classic example of something known as the online disinhibition effect.
“People lose their social brakes online because they no longer see the pain in others’ eyes or hear their trembling voices,” Mendonsa said. “The screen transforms human pain into digital data.”
The deep harm done to grieving families
As comments circulated online, psychologists said the families of the victims — including the parents of the children killed — may be especially affected by posts that assign blame or make assumptions.
“Negative comments can make survivors and loved ones feel victimized twice,” Lee said. “This can lead to extreme anxiety or depression.”
Mendonsa described this as secondary victimization.
“For a grieving family, seeing their loved one blamed or dehumanized online is a second assault,” he said. “It interrupts mourning and can lead to isolation or hypervigilance.”
Families already balancing funeral planning, media attention, law enforcement interviews and community grief must now wrestle with strangers speculating about their lives.
“They see these comments,” Main said. “and it adds to their pain.”
The social media spotlight and the pressure to respond
For Tara Cuslidge-Staiano, professor of mass communication and journalism at Delta College and former online editor who oversaw comment moderation, the pattern playing out in Stockton is deeply familiar.
“Everybody wants to own a slice of the narrative,” she said. “People want to be first, not accurate.”
Social media platforms give everyday users the same megaphone once reserved for journalists, she said, but without newsroom training in ethics, verification or trauma-aware reporting.
“What we see online is a curated version of people’s lives,” Cuslidge-Staiano said. “You never really know a person based on social media alone, yet people make assumptions as if those posts tell the whole story.”
This dynamic becomes particularly harmful when victims are children, Cuslidge-Staiano said.
“The victims may not have had social media at all,” she said. “People end up drawing conclusions from whatever they can find, even if it’s outdated or not relevant.”
Cycles of harmful commentary can also pressure families into speaking publicly before they are ready.
“Instead of mourning, they feel pushed to explain or justify themselves,” Cuslidge-Staiano said. “Then they get criticized for speaking up, or criticized for staying quiet. There’s no winning.”
These dynamics, she said, can retraumatize families and distort public understanding of who they were.
Violence, memory and Stockton’s long history of loss
Stockton is no stranger to mass tragedy. The shadow of the 1989 Cleveland Elementary School shooting — when a gunman opened fire on a playground, killing five children and wounding more than 30 others — still lingers.
Cuslidge-Staiano said the city’s collective memory shapes the way residents respond today.
“When a community faces repeated violence, it suffers from cumulative trauma,” Mendonsa said. “Online hostility erodes social cohesion, the very thing a community needs to heal.”
“We are all likely going to drive by that area and think about this tragedy immediately, just like people still think of Cleveland Elementary,” she said. “These events leave scars on the collective memory.”
Psychologists say repeated exposure to violence can slowly erode a community’s resilience.
Lee said many Americans have become desensitized to violence because of how frequently it dominates the national discourse.
“People may start seeing these events as commonplace,” she said. “They underestimate the extreme trauma they cause.”
How to help; what to avoid
While the spread of harmful comments can feel inevitable, experts say residents have more power than they think. Lee urged people to pause before reacting emotionally online.
“Prioritize empathy, accuracy and sensitivity,” she said. “Consider the potential impact on those affected.”
Mendonsa advised using what he calls the “living room test.”
“Before posting, ask yourself if you would say the same thing while standing in the home of the family who lost their child,” he said.
Main encouraged avoiding speculation altogether.
“Ask yourself whether what you’re posting helps the situation or makes it worse,” he said. “If it’s not accurate and respectful, it’s better not to post it at all.”
Cuslidge-Staiano offered one final question online users should ask before sharing anything: “What are you adding to the conversation, and is it ethical?”
A community pulling through grief
Residents, officials and families face the long road of grief, healing and accountability. Experts say that alongside police updates, funerals and community vigils, another part of that healing must happen online, in how residents choose to speak about the tragedy and the families at its center.
Local mental health professionals say families and community members can seek support through services like the San Joaquin County Behavioral Health Crisis Line and the Trauma Recovery Center, which specialize in helping survivors of violent crime. Parents worried about the emotional impact on their children can seek guidance through school counselors or national trauma networks.
As Stockton continues to mourn, experts say online reactions can influence how survivors and the broader community navigate the early stages of grief.
“There are real people behind every comment,” Mendonsa said. “And this is the worst moment of their lives.”
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