In a debate about Formula 1, on Facebook, a woman spat “This is my opinion and so it is valid.” No, it isn’t. No opinion is valid. It’s just an opinion (like this one).

And there is something else that has become dangerously popular: “MY truth.”

There are 7.95 billion human souls on the planet, according to the internet — which means that there are also 7.95 billion truths in the world. That’s a helluva lot of truth to contend with.

The truth is, there are things that are true and always will be. Two plus two equals four. Committing murder is wrong (unless you’re fighting for your own life). Death will come to us all, at some point. These are everyone’s truths. They are facts.

However, there isn’t a single subject that doesn’t attract a backwash of uninvited, unwelcome opinions online. No comment, no pause for thought, no statement, that survives unscathed. I have quit all Formula 1 fan groups because of the aggressive, even personally insulting responses to perfectly innocent comments.

Far too many people have come to believe that their opinion is groundbreaking, life-changing, even — despite the fact they can barely spell or string enough words together to produce a cohesive sentence. The internet has created a platform for more experts than the world knows what to do with.

I recently read a post on Facebook by a woman who had taken her kids out for ice cream. She placed her order — and then discovered that the establishment didn’t accept cash — and she didn’t have a debit or credit card. She illustrated her post with a photo of her well-worn purse, filled with actual money, bless her. She wasn’t being nasty — she was just explaining her bewilderment and frustration at the growing trend of accepting card payments only.

However, some of the responses were downright patronising. Abusive, even. She was sneered at because of her shabby purse (“Buy yourself a new purse, love”). She was verbally attacked, put in her place, by — surprisingly enough — pink and green-haired, facially pierced young women (I know, because I checked out the profiles of the worst offenders). I can only assume that they work, or have worked, in the service industry and have become embittered by moaning customers. Still, I felt sorry for the poor woman, who had no comprehension of what she was setting herself up for when expressing dismay over the fact that cash is becoming outdated. Don’t worry, I stood up for her.

There is also that thing that is known in the UK as ‘stating the bleedin’ obvious’. You know, the uninvited advice that assumes you are a moron who hasn’t considered the… well, bleedin’ obvious. A flippant example would be suggesting to the alcoholic with a defunct liver that they quit drinking – as if it had never occurred to them.

And, as much as I like middle-aged men (and I do. I am 66 and relieved to discover that I don’t hanker after young, lean men. I genuinely prefer a lived-in face, baldness, greying beard, and even man boobs), their many opinions irritate me. And their willingness to proffer said opinions at the drop of a hat. For example, they know all about Formula 1 (what, THIS example again?) even though they haven’t watched a race for 20 years (because it’s too safe and ‘boring’ now that drivers are no longer dying hand over fist). Politics, the police, motorbikes, cars, religion, sport, music — there is little the middle-aged man doesn’t know more about than you do.

But why is this? Testosterone, I reckon. It’s the way they are wired. They need an outlet for all of that ‘authority’. But I do like men, I am fascinated by the way they think and behave (mostly). I celebrate the fact that men and women are different. When I used to sell stuff at car boot sales (equivalent to garage sales in the USA, I think), there would always be men gathered around boxes filled with bits of wire and metal, having a good old root. I liked that. So I can kind of forgive them for being irritatingly opinionated.

However, I can’t forgive the “MY truth” brigade. The self-absorbed, self-indulgent, self-important adherents who have been programmed to believe that their poop smells of perfume and their weird, unreasonable (in my opinion) ideas are ‘valid’. The new philosophy is: “I think something therefore it IS”.