I never wanted to study lies. I got into science journalism because I am interested in the truth, especially the truth about infectious diseases: I am fascinated by how viruses evolve, diseases spread, and societies cope. But during the Covid pandemic, and the subsequent global spread of mpox, it was impossible to escape the firehose of falsehoods aimed at all of us. I decided that being good at my job — being a good science reporter — meant at least trying to understand where misinformation comes from, why it spreads, and how I as a science journalist should react. I spent my fellowship year with the Knight Science Journalism Program at MIT trying to answer these questions.
You may be wrestling with this topic too. Misinformation is everywhere these days. It is a fact of life in our messy, monetized information ecosystem. There is a whole field of science to be covered here. Thousands of academic papers are published every year trying to make sense of this incredibly complex topic, with roots in psychology, politics, the economics of the internet, and societal issues like polarization and economic inequality. But there is also a practical problem: As journalists we have to navigate this murky world, and a growing part of our job is to scrutinize suspicious information, call out lies, correct falsehoods, and debunk nonsense. How do we best do that? In many ways we are still figuring that out, but here is the advice I can give from what I have learned.
1. Beware of the term misinformation
I know, I just used it four times myself. And the term “misinformation” is useful as an umbrella term, but there are also a number of reasons to use it with care.
For one, not everyone agrees on what “misinformation” actually means. There isn’t a definition of the term that all misinformation researchers can get behind. Some believe it should only apply to false information, while others want to include information that is misleading. And there are many edge cases: Is a satirical article misinformation? What if people take it seriously — if, say, the Iranian news agency falls for an Onion article? (Yes, that really happened.) What about a click-bait headline in a respected newspaper?
It can be helpful to distinguish between misinformation and disinformation: Disinformation is deliberately false (or misleading) information while misinformation is false (or misleading) information irrespective of the intent. In practice, of course, intent can be very difficult to establish.
One more thing to consider: The term “misinformation” has become so politicized that if you are communicating with people that might have bought into a false claim, using that term could just make them shut down.
2. Use alternatives when they fit
“Misinformation” covers a huge terrain – everything from articles claiming that the pope has endorsed Donald Trump in the US presidential race, social media posts suggesting that there is a second shooter at the site of a terrorist attack, to the idea that humans never made it to the moon.
As a science journalist, if you are writing a story about snakes or salamanders, you’ll presumably call them snakes or salamanders and not just amphibians or animals. Similarly, when describing “misinformation” there are terms you can use to be more specific:
- “Fake news” describes a very specific phenomenon: a fabricated article or video that is made to look like it comes from a serious news organization. Even though this phenomenon has garnered much attention, most scientists agree it is not that common. Recent advances in generative AI have made creating convincing fake news clips much easier, however, so this type of misinformation may well become more of a problem.
- “Rumor” refers to a piece of information or a story that is circulating but is not verified. Importantly, it may turn out to be true or false.
- “Conspiracy theory” usually references a narrative of a secret plot by a small but powerful group of people to explain events like the assassination of JFK or the moon landing. (As a science journalist the use of the word “theory” may well irk you here, since it seems to put an outlandish narrative on the same level as say the theory of evolution. Some researchers have suggested using alternatives like “conspiracy story” or “conspiracy claim.”)
Of course, there is overlap between these and other terms like lies, hoax, or fabrication, but it is worth thinking about the different forms that misinformation can take. Whether you are writing about a rumor, lie, or a conspiracy theory, it helps to be specific. If you don’t know what exactly you are dealing with, it may be worth spending some time trying to figure that out.
3. Be careful when linking misinformation to real-world outcomes
In the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, many journalists repeated claims that a spike in methanol poisonings could be attributed to social media misinformation that suggested alcohol could cure or prevent Covid-19. But the reality was more complex. Consumption of alcohol, which is banned in Iran, did rise as the government ramped up production of alcohol-based hand sanitizers during the pandemic. However a 2022 study suggests that most Iranians drank alcohol not because they thought it would help with the disease, but to deal with the stressful situation of the pandemic and lockdowns. The authors of that study analyzed data from 795 patients who were hospitalized in Iran for methanol poisoning in early 2020 and found that only 3.1 percent of them had ingested it hoping to prevent Covid-19.
This doesn’t mean that misinformation does not cause harm. It clearly does. Sometimes the link is clear, as when a man fired his rifle in a DC pizzeria in December 2016 because he believed a conspiracy theory that powerful politicians were abusing children held at the restaurant. Ideally, you will have your own reporting to back up the real-world harms of a conspiracy theory or a fake news article. But if you don’t, remember that correlation does not mean causation and be careful about directly linking misinformation to certain outcomes, especially at a societal level, otherwise you may end up spreading falsehoods yourself.
4. Try to explain how we know something is false – and how the falsehood arose
The human mind abhors the vacuum and it loves stories. So if you are trying to correct someone’s false belief it can be helpful to replace that made-up story with a factual story: Where did the wrong story originate? Who is benefitting? Why does something maybe seem plausible even though it is not true? Take the common falsehood that the combined measles, mumps, and rubella — or MMR — vaccine causes autism. You can explain all of the data that shows that this is not the case. But you can also tell the story of Andrew Wakefield’s Lancet paper that first spread the idea, his falsification of data presented in it, his plans to profit by selling a diagnostic kit, the story of the journalist Brian Deer who uncovered this, the retraction of the paper, and much more.
5. Don’t worry about the backfire effect
Early research on debunking false information suggested that there was a risk of actually spreading the falsehood further and strengthening belief in it. This is usually called the “backfire effect.” But over the past decade research has accumulated that suggests that this phenomenon, if it is real at all, is weak and only occurs in specific situations. Fear of the backfire effect certainly shouldn’t keep you as a journalist from pointing out and pushing back against falsehoods.
6. Model good behavior
We all make mistakes and when we do, it’s important to acknowledge that. Having to correct something you wrote never feels great. It feels even worse when you are writing about misinformation. (Believe me, I know.) But one concrete thing we can do to create some positive change in our messy information ecosystem is to model good behavior by owning up to our mistakes and explaining them. Some people may pounce on that, but many more will see it as a sign that they can trust you. And that’s the most important thing. Because nothing we report matters, if readers, listeners, or viewers don’t trust us in the first place.
7. Don’t lose sight of the larger picture: the information ecosystem
As journalists we will often focus on specific stories about one particular piece of misinformation, where it originated, how it spread and what its impact has been (in fact, this very article has that focus too). This is important work, but our efforts are stronger if we explain the incentives at play in our information ecosystem as a whole, the algorithms that structure it, and the players that shape it. Of course the algorithms, the people that benefit from them, or the changing information ecosystem can all be stories themselves (like Grok’s conservative leaning answers to users’ questions).
But it’s worth remembering that some of the harms of misinformation are only really apparent when looking at the entire information ecosystem. To give just one example, the ubiquity of fabricated AI images has given an easy cover to those accused of wrongdoing: if any digital evidence surfaces, they can muddy the waters by claiming it is AI generated. This effect of discrediting real evidence, often called the “liar’s dividend,” might well end up more consequential than people believing individual fake images.
8. Accept that it is about more than facts
In many cases the problem is not about lies at all but about facts that are taken out of context and misinterpreted. All of us, as we try to make sense of the world use certain frames that guide what data we prioritize and what we disregard as we decide on an interpretation of the world. But other people influence these frames, constantly reinforcing the way we may make sense of information. So, debunking lies or drawing attention to ignored facts may not do much, if the overall frame is likely to ignore that evidence or disbelieve the source sharing the evidence. It is at least possible that, as the researcher Kate Starbird has argued, the “solution to pervasive misinformation is not better facts, but better frames.”
So while we need to check facts and debunk falsehoods, it is important to also think about the frames that we apply when writing an article. For instance, by writing about the ubiquity of misinformation and its effects, we may reinforce the idea that no-one can be trusted anymore and that people are powerless. A different frame that emphasizes agency could be an article about what people need to learn to better navigate the rapidly changing information ecosystem. Or, say, an article giving advice to journalists about how to deal with misinformation.
Kai Kupferschmidt, KSJ ’24, is a contributing correspondent for Science magazine based in Berlin, Germany.
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