Picture a cosmic delete key. Not the gentle kind that sends things to a recycle bin, but the dramatic kind that removes something from reality like it never existed:
poofgone from shelves, streets, servers, and history books. Here’s the twist that makes this question deliciously weird:
everyone still remembers it.
So the world loses the thing… but keeps the story. The “scar” remains, even if the wound disappears. And that’s why this prompt hits like a
brain-tickle and a moral pop quiz at the same time. It’s funny, deep, a little spooky, and (if you’re running a community thread) pure comment-section gold.
Why This Thought Experiment Works So Well
Most “what would you delete?” questions are simple wish lists: erase traffic, erase taxes, erase that one song that got stuck in your head for a decade.
But the “everyone remembers it” clause changes everything.
Erasing isn’t the same as forgetting
Forgetting is messy and personal. It fades, distorts, and returns at inconvenient times (usually at 2:00 a.m., starring the embarrassing thing you said in 2014).
Erasing, on the other hand, is clean and absoluteexcept here it isn’t clean at all, because memory stays.
That leftover memory creates a strange world: people can mourn something that no longer exists, debate something with no evidence, and warn future generations about
a danger they can’t physically point to. In other words: it’s the perfect setup for big ideas and wildly specific answers.
The Science-y Part: How “Shared Memory” Shapes What We Think We Know
Psychologists use the term collective memory to describe the shared recollections that people hold as members of a groupfamilies, cities, nations,
fandoms, and yes, online communities. It’s not the same as official history. It’s history-as-people-remember-it, complete with emotions, identity, and sometimes
a few missing puzzle pieces.
Collective memory is a social glue (and a social mirror)
People don’t just remember facts; they remember meaning. Communities build narratives around events and ideaswhat “we” survived, what “we” learned, what “we”
celebrate, and what “we” regret. That’s why some topics feel sacred, some feel taboo, and some feel like they’re permanently stuck in the group chat.
Memory is editableeven when we swear it isn’t
Researchers have shown that memory can be influenced by later information, repetition, and suggestion. This matters for the prompt because if “the thing” is erased,
then the only evidence left is… memory. In a world without receipts, the story can grow horns, sprout wings, or get weirdly nostalgic.
(You know: “Back in my day, erased thing was better.”)
And that leads to a fascinating question: would people’s remembered version of the erased thing become more accurate over time… or more mythical?
If you’ve ever watched a rumor evolve into legend inside a friend group, you already know the answer.
The Ethical Part: Should We Erase Anything If We Still Remember It?
The prompt sounds like a superpower, but it’s also a responsibility nightmare. Because not everything “bad” is just badsome things are warnings, lessons, and
proof. Many educators and institutions argue that remembering atrocities and injustice is a safeguard against repeating them, and that sanitizing the record can
be its own form of harm.
Erasing harm vs. erasing evidence
If you erase a deadly product or a toxic practice, that can feel purely helpful. But if you erase the proof that it existed, you might also erase accountability.
In this thought experiment, people still rememberso accountability could survive through testimony. Yet testimony is fragile. It can be doubted, politicized,
or dismissed as “just stories.”
Here’s a modern real-world parallel: debates over what gets preserved, displayed, or removed from public spacesmuseums, monuments, textbooks, exhibitsoften aren’t
actually about the past. They’re about who gets to define the story now. Even without literal erasure, battles over narrative are constant.
Privacy has an “erase” debate, too
The internet has its own version of this question: should people be able to remove certain information about themselves from search results or platforms?
That idea is often discussed as a “right to be forgotten.” In the U.S., it collides with free speech, public records, journalism, and the fear of censorship.
Which brings us back to the prompt: when you erase something, you’re not only changing realityyou’re changing what future people can verify. Even if everyone
remembers, can they prove it? Can they learn from it accurately? Can they protect themselves the next time it tries to show up wearing a fake mustache?
What Would People Erase? Popular Answer Categories (With Examples)
If you’re running this as a “Hey Pandas” thread, you’ll notice patterns. People tend to erase things that cause suffering, distort truth, or waste timeplus
a few “personal nemesis” answers that are just there for laughs.
1) Things that harm bodies
This category is pure “I choose kindness.” People often name diseases, addictions, and dangerous exposures. Some pick broad targets like “cancer,” while others
go specific: a toxin, a hazardous material, a preventable risk factor.
- Example erase: Lead-based paint in homes (imagine the public health ripple).
- Example erase: A specific addictive product engineered to hook people.
- Example erase: A predatory scam ecosystem that drains older adults.
2) Things that harm minds
Here the answers get tender. People choose to erase trauma, abuse, harassment, and the systems that enable them. Some choose “war” or “genocide,” while others
choose more personal evils: grooming, bullying, domestic violence.
This is where the “everyone remembers” clause becomes emotionally charged. Because remembering a harm that no longer exists can be both healing and haunting:
healing because the harm can’t keep happening, haunting because the memory still hurts. Mental health research often notes that avoidance of traumatic memories and
triggers can become a symptom pattern, while safe processing and support can be part of recoveryso memory isn’t automatically the enemy. It’s complicated.
3) Things that poison information
Many people would erase misinformation, deepfakes, and the business models that reward outrage. Not disagreementjust the industrial-scale manipulation that
turns reality into a choose-your-own-adventure novel written by whoever yells the loudest.
- Example erase: Robocalls and scam texts (a small mercy, but a daily one).
- Example erase: “Engagement-first” algorithms optimized for anger.
- Example erase: The tech that makes fabricated audio/video indistinguishable from real.
4) Things that harm the planet
Environmental picks are common because they feel both urgent and fixable. People name plastic pollution, “forever chemicals,” oil spills, and industrial dumping.
The “remembered but gone” twist here is interesting: even if a pollutant disappears, society still remembers what it didideally enough to prevent a sequel.
5) Things that waste human life (the funny, relatable tier)
You’ll also get answers that are mostly comedic coping:
- “That one printer error that says it’s jammed when it is clearly not jammed.”
- “Meetings that could’ve been emails.”
- “The sound of someone chewing with their mouth open.”
- “The last 3% of a ketchup bottle.”
Don’t underestimate these. Humor is often how people talk about stress without making the thread feel like a therapy appointment in a busy food court.
A Better Version of the Question: Erase the Harm, Keep the Lesson
If you want the prompt to generate answers that are thoughtful (not just “erase my ex”), add a gentle rule:
erase the thing, but everyone keeps a clear memory of what it taught us.
That reframes responses from pure fantasy into something almost like policy thinking:
What causes the most suffering? What would reduce harm without creating a new kind of harm? What would we need to remember so we don’t recreate it?
Try these follow-up questions (they boost engagement, too)
- What would improve immediately? (health, safety, relationships, economy, environment)
- What unintended side effects might happen? (new black markets, new vulnerabilities, new inequalities)
- What would you want future generations to remember about it? (warning signs, values, prevention)
How to Run This as a “Hey Pandas” Community Post
If your goal is a lively thread that’s also readable, here’s a simple structure:
Prompt format
“If you could erase one thing from the worldbut everyone still remembered itwhat would you erase, and why?”
Comment guidelines (light, friendly, effective)
- Ask people to explain why, not just name the thing.
- Invite both serious and funny answersthreads need both oxygen and sparkle.
- If someone picks a heavy topic, encourage empathy (no dunking on personal pain).
- Optional: ask for “one sentence + one consequence” to keep it concise.
Conclusion: The World You Build With a Delete Key
This prompt is secretly about values. When people answer, they’re revealing what they think the world is missing: safety, truth, dignity, fairness, peace,
clean air, quiet minds, or simply fewer spam calls.
And the “everyone remembers” twist adds a powerful message: some things shouldn’t be repeated, but they shouldn’t be hidden either. The dream isn’t a world with
no memory. It’s a world where memory makes us wiserwithout forcing anyone to keep living the harm.
So… hey Pandas. What would you erase?
Experiences: What People Tend to Share When You Ask This Question (About )
When a community tries this prompt, the comment section usually goes through phasesalmost like a shared emotional playlist.
The first wave is playful: people erase annoying stuff that steals tiny chunks of joy. You’ll see “robocalls,” “ads that follow me around the internet,”
“printer jams,” and “the smell of mystery garbage juice.” These answers are quick, funny, and oddly unifying. Everyone has a daily villain, and sometimes that
villain is a blinking router light that means “I’m broken, but I won’t tell you why.”
Then the second wave hits, and the tone deepens. Someone says, “I’d erase child abuse,” and suddenly the thread gets quietereven if it’s still scrolling.
People often share short, careful explanations: not graphic details, just the kind of honest sentence that carries weight. Others reply with support, or with a
gentle “same.” In many communities, this is where you watch strangers become human to each other. The prompt stops being a game and becomes a wish for safety.
After that, you’ll often see “system answers.” People pick things like “corruption,” “racism,” “human trafficking,” or “war.”
What’s interesting is how they justify it. Some talk about direct harm. Others talk about ripple effects: if you erase one root cause, you don’t just fix one
problemyou prevent dozens of downstream problems. This is also where people debate respectfully (when the thread is healthy): someone might argue that erasing one
ideology could erase important resistance stories too. The “everyone remembers” clause becomes the peace treaty in the middle: you can remove the harm while
preserving the warning signs.
Another common experience is “personal-scale erasure.” People choose something that affected their family: an addiction that pulled a parent away, a disease that
took a grandparent too soon, a scam that emptied a retirement account. These answers often include a small detaillike a kitchen table conversation, or a phone
call that changed everythingand those details make the thread feel real. Readers recognize themselves in them, even if their story is different.
Finally, the thread usually circles back to hope. Someone will write a version of: “I don’t want to erase the past. I want to erase the suffering and keep the
lesson.” Others build on it: erase the thing, keep a universal reminder, like a mental label that says “This happened. Here’s how we prevent it.” That’s the
moment the prompt does what it’s best at doingturning a fantasy into a conversation about what kind of world we’re trying to create, one choice at a time.