Aaron Sorkin's much-panned "The Newsroom" has had a fraught relationship with critics since its inception, mostly because of the tendency of the HBO drama's many insufferable characters to repeatedly, condescendingly explain what journalism really is. It's a low-rated show, but the kind that certain devotees (many of them in the media) gather around to hate-watch so they can tweet their thoughts.

"The Newsroom" is set to end Sunday after a six-episode third season, and at first, it appeared it might go out quietly: A lunatic billionaire taking over the ACN cable network; anchor Will McAvoy (Emmy winner Jeff Daniels) in jail for refusing to give up a source who leaked confidential documents; Jim and Maggie coupling up again. Everything was turning out exactly how it was supposed to, in its own twisted way.

Then Sunday's episode happened - and any goodwill the show collected was instantly blown up with an unnerving-if-timely story about rape on college campus. Though written many months ago, the broadcast coincided with the devastating Rolling Stone story about an alleged gang rape at the University of Virginia whose central claims the magazine has since disavowed; as well as the growing list of women accusing Bill Cosby of sexual assault.

On "The Newsroom," the story went like this: A Princeton student named Mary said she was raped by two men, and when the police did nothing, she set up an anonymous website inviting women to call out their rapists by name. ACN's new owner insisted on getting Mary in the studio for a moderated debate with a man accused of rape. Don, an executive producer, was in charge of putting together this segment, much against his will.

So Don tracked down Mary at her dorm room - and begged her not to do the TV appearance, arguing that it would be a regrettable spectacle. This resulted in an episode-long argument in which Don explained her website could encourage scorned women to falsely accuse innocent men and ruin their lives. He compared it to "revenge porn" sites. Mary argued that the site would serve as a warning for women to not date certain bad guys, and thwart future sexual assaults. Don maintained that he had a "moral" obligation to believe her ("sketchy") alleged rapist's point of view as well. Eventually, Don left and told his bosses that he wasn't able to find Mary, so the segment couldn't happen.

To say that many TV critics were horrified with this storyline (and the episode in general, titled "Oh Shenandoah") is an understatement.

"The most baldly offensive thing in 'Oh Shenandoah' was watching Don mansplain rape to a woman," writes James Poniewozik at Time magazine. As for Don telling Mary that he was "obligated" to believe her alleged rapist, Poniewozik's reaction was "OK, what the hell?"

"Don's not saying that he can't know whom to believe yet," Poniewozik writes. "He's not saying that he doesn't have hard proof. He's not saying, 'We don't know enough to say.' He's saying that, lacking proof, he has to affirmatively believe the story of one of his subjects - a less credible one - over the other. Forget journalists - many men's rights movement advocates don't even go that far."

Multiple critics also pointed out that the implied takeaway is that Don gets the better of the exchange.

"On a show dedicated to fantasy journalism, Sorkin's stand-in doesn't lobby for more incisive coverage of sexual violence or for a responsible way to tell graphic stories without getting off on the horrible details or for innovative investigations that could pressure a corrupt, ass-covering system to do better," writes Emily Nussbaum at the New Yorker. "Instead, he argues that the idealistic thing to do is not to believe her story. Don's fighting for no coverage: he's so identified with falsely accused men and so focused on his sorrowful, courtly discomfort that, mainly, he just wants the issue to go away. And Don is our hero!"

There are many more examples. While some acknowledge that Sorkin presents a chewy debate about an important subject, they say the way it was presented epitomizes many of the show's flaws, especially its treatment of female characters.

"The presentation of the debate is all wrong," writes The Atlantic's David Sims. "Don comes off as a stable, reasoned beacon of truth, and Mary as an understandably upset, hysterical creature of emotion, blinded from logic by her tragic circumstances. I have my objections to the debate that plays out, but it's the presentation that's particularly infuriating, not to mention the conclusion: Don takes it upon himself to lie to his producer and claim he never found Mary, shielding her from whatever media horrors he might imagine."

Sims continues, "This is 'The Newsroom' at its worst, through and through. I have no problems with a show that explores the heroism of journalism, perhaps while balancing that against ethical quandaries. But this is no a heroic moment, and it's an embarrassment to watch it treated as one."

And now, "The Newsroom" bids farewell for good on Sunday, ending on the same polarizing note on which it began.