Blog
When healthcare conflict goes online
by Dr Esse Menson, MMF Senior Mediator and Trainer
How social media and artificial intelligence (AI) are reshaping parent-clinician relationships, and how to respond when a difficult conversation becomes a public narrative.
Imagine you’ve spent an hour with a child’s parents explaining options, addressing uncertainties and answering their questions. It was a tough conversation, but you believe you were open, clear and compassionate. The next morning, the parents ask to see you. They hand you an AI printout listing treatments their child hasn’t been offered, and question your clinical reasoning.
Later, you discover they’ve posted online about your conversations. Other parents have commented, sharing their experiences and questioning decisions made about their own children under your team’s care. They say the doctors aren’t listening, and that decisions are based on rationing rather than what’s best for each child. You feel exposed, undermined and misrepresented, but you can’t respond: you’re bound by confidentiality and have no public voice. And you still have to work with this family to care for their child.
This scenario isn’t unusual; it has become part of the fabric of children’s healthcare. Parents have more information, and more conflicting advice, than any previous generation; when advocacy feels like a parental duty, stepping back can feel as if they’re failing their child. For clinicians, it can be increasingly challenging to deliver the treatment they believe is right for the child.
A complex relationship in a challenging online world
Parents have always sought information elsewhere, compared experiences and looked for reassurance from people who understand what they’re facing, as any of us would. Online communities can offer great comfort and help families ask questions they might never have thought of. AI can translate medical language, organise complex histories, summarise research and give parents the words to express their concerns. Clinicians use it too, to prepare explanations and explore alternative perspectives, and some organisations use it to draft letters.
These benefits are genuine. But online and AI-generated information can be misleading and more certain than the evidence warrants, and general advice can miss the nuance of an individual child’s circumstances. A complicated disagreement can become a compelling public story with heroes and villains. A parent who feels unheard may take repeated explanation as an attempt to shut them down. A clinician who feels publicly criticised may hear questions as challenge or accusation rather than fear or concern. Nobody intends this, but once it starts, every conversation becomes harder than the last.
The pressure is also real
It’s easy to say clinicians should listen carefully, communicate well and avoid defensiveness. It’s much harder when they are overstretched, juggling competing demands and aware that their words may be shared online. Confidentiality prevents them from responding publicly, even when what’s said feels unjustified, and organisations don’t always have practical processes to protect staff from harassment while staying open to legitimate criticism.
This isn’t simply a communication problem, nor one parents or clinicians can solve alone. It challenges the therapeutic relationships on which good healthcare depends.
What can you say when the conversation is difficult?
Dismissing social media, insisting AI is unreliable or trying to win the argument is likely to escalate tension rather than resolve it. De-escalation begins with how we respond.
If a parent says, “I’ve checked on AI and it says you’re wrong,” a useful starting point might be: “Can you show me what it said? I’d like to understand what’s worrying you. Can we look at the evidence together?”
If a parent says, “I’ve posted on social media because nobody here listens,” you might say: “I’m sorry you’ve reached a point where going public feels like the only way to be heard. Can you help me understand what we haven’t understood so far?”
Neither response requires you to agree with the parent’s conclusions or compromise your clinical judgement. Both do three things well:
- they separate distress from allegations. Listening isn’t agreeing, and acknowledging fear doesn’t mean accepting fault.
- they communicate curiosity rather than defensiveness, creating space to understand the underlying worry before deciding how to respond.
- they keep the focus on the child.
Sometimes a good conversation reveals a crucial misunderstanding; sometimes it identifies something the team might reconsider; sometimes disagreement remains. This approach can’t promise to resolve every conflict, but it can make the next step more constructive.
How can we support you?
When conflict goes online, the relationship still matters, and repair lies in how the ensuing conversations are conducted. Nothing good comes from blaming or judging parents for raising concerns, turning to social media or using AI. Nor is it fair to expect clinicians to absorb unlimited criticism. The goal is to help families and professionals keep communicating constructively, even when trust is damaged and pressures are high.
Over the last decade, MMF has developed and evaluated practical, mediation-informed training modules that help clinicians recognise and respond to conflict well, and identify when extra support or facilitated dialogue may be needed.
Technology will keep evolving, and so will the challenges it can bring. The need to listen well, explore concerns with curiosity, acknowledge impact and respond thoughtfully remains. None of this is easy under pressure, but we have seen how the right skills and support can help.
Get in touch: If you’d like to build your skills and confidence in this evolving territory, we’d love to hear from you.
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