Since the start of the coronavirus pandemic, journalists and authors in the media have routinely been using the term “fake news” to refer to the deep and dynamic flows of misleading, malicious, conspiratorial and divisive coronavirus-related online content. Characterised as an ‘infodemic’by the WHO,the coronavirus era has seen high volumes of both non-state and state-backed coronavirus-centric “fake news.”
Yet, while the concept of “fake news” has gained increasing currency in the public discourse, the catch-all term can be contested on both conceptual and pragmatic grounds. This article espouses a two-pronged argument. First, when reporting on coronavirus-related content, scholars, journalists, and citizens should dispense with the term “fake news” and be clear and precise. Second, Samantha Bradshaw et. al (2020)’s concept of “junk news” is a compelling alternative to “fake news” in the age of the ‘infodemic.’
Reinvigorated during the 2016 US presidential election campaign, the term “fake news” broadly refers to intentionally fabricated online information. A frequently cited example is the widespread circulation on social media of Pope Francis’ ostensible endorsement of Trump, which turned out to be an instance of “fake news.”
“Fake news” is not new and has an extensive history. What is new in the coronavirus era seems to be the scale and threat associated with its circulation, amplification, and internalization. Today, “fake news” is having an increasingly direct and adverse impact on citizens’ health. For instance, in Iran, at least 44 people died from alcohol poisoningin a misinformed attempt to prevent coronavirus. Some people in New York erroneously were convinced that toothpaste, dietary supplements and creams cure coronavirus, prompting a response from the attorney general.
In this context, the term “fake news” has reasserted itself strongly in the public discourse and digital media environment. In recent months, social media networks, governments, and a bevy of online news articles have warned the public about the large cascades of coronavirus “fake news.” Twitter has been labelling and removing thousands of tweetsthat it deems misleading. States around the world have been unveiling and enforcing public, private-sector and technical governance responses, including what many governments consider to be “fake news laws.”
Yet, as this article argues, the concept of fake news itself is ambiguous, conceptually elastic, and operationally problematic. For one, scholars cannot seem to agree on a durable definition of the concept and its theoretical relationship to specific information types such as propaganda and conspiracy theories. For instance, some scholars and authors subsume a menu of information type, including propaganda, conspiracy theories, satire, libel, and advertising, under the label of “fake news” (I.e. Tandoc, Lim, & Ling, 2018; Wardle, 2017). Yet, other scholars like Hunt Allcott and Matthew (2016) have distinguished “fake news” from so-called close cousins such as conspiracy theories, propaganda and reporting mistakes.
Beyond these conceptual deficiencies, the term fake news has been stretched and politicised by politicians and government actors seemingly intending to delegitimise, criticise or drown out political dissent. Most famously, President Trump has relied on the notion of “fake news” to erode media credibility. States in Southeast Asia including Singapore,Malaysia,Cambodia, andVietnamhave also used the term “fake news” to legislatively crack down on unlawful online content. Since the introduction of these anti-“fake news” laws in 2018, scholars like Netina Tan (2018) have argued that the remedies for “fake news” are ‘worse than the disease.’
Given the term’s ambiguity and co-optation by government actors, journalists, scholars and citizens should aim for greater precision and clarity when reporting on the various information types that could potentially be considered “fake news.” Indeed, many scholars have ditched the umbrella notion of fake news in favour of Claire Wardle (2016)’s more nuanced “disinformation vs. misinformation” typology. Disinformation broadly refers to deliberately false content “designed to cause harm,”whereas misinformation refers to false content that is unintentionally circulated. Yet, Wardle’s typology seems to presume that intentionality can be ascertained in the first place.
In the coronavirus era, however, it can be extremely difficult if not impossible to impute motive. The current context has been marked by pervasive public anxiety and uncertainty, and the boundary between deliberate and non-deliberate has thus been blurred. How do we impute motive to some instances of disinformation and not others? For instance, if an ordinary citizen shares a Facebook article that contains a coronavirus conspiracy, is this Facebook user morally culpable? This question has potent implications as seemingly ordinary social media users have been arrestedin states like Taiwan and South Korea (two states that have been praisedfor their robust coronavirus responses) for circulating coronavirus-related “fake news.”
Bradshaw et al. (2020)’s “junk news”typology offers a compelling alternative to the “fake news” trap. The authors at the Oxford Internet Institute propose a comprehensive, systematic and clear typology that is especially useful for navigating and pointing to the questionable information types in the infodemic.
In particular, the typology considers factors such as 1) “professionalism,” or whether a source adheres to journalistic norms and standards; 2) “style,” or the nature of the article’s language and whether it contains fallacies or loaded phraseology; 3) “counterfeit,” or whether a source “mimics” a credible news site’s font or aesthetic; 4) “bias,” or ideological skew as assessed in reference to factors like the article’s supporting evidence or sources; 5) “credibility,” or whether the article’s claims are substantiated and fact-checked. If a source meets at least three of the five criteria, it is characterised as “junk news.”
As such, “junk news” examines concrete and tangible dimensions of an online news article, such as whether or not information such as the bio of the author is included or whether a domain appears to ‘mimic’ a reputable site. This concept is conceptually robust; it establishes well-defined criteria to shore up the ambiguity problem inherent in “fake news.” It also delicately tiptoes around the heavier and thornier question around motive and intentionality.
“Junk news” may sound similar to “fake news” in name, but it is far from it. Junk news is conceptually crisp and clear, not muddy and malleable. In a coronavirus era marked by a high-stakes ‘infodemic,’ there is a strong impetus for scholars, journalists, and citizens to reflect critically on their usage of “fake news” and consider a thoughtful and compelling alternative.
Cassidy Bereskin is a Digital Democracy Research Assistant at McMaster University to Dr. Netina Tan, an expert on electoral integrity in Southeast Asia