I’m not much of a social media user.
I live a very busy life, with lots of balls in the air all the time, and I can think of plenty of other ways I’d like to spend my down-time than sharing the details of my days with others, which seems to me to be one of the biggest Facebook attraction for many users.
“Wow, didn’t have time to eat breakfast this morning, so I’m snacking on a petrified bread crust I found on the counter! LOL :P”
Facebook and the other social media definitely have their pluses, though, and our staff maintains a Facebook page that we use to tip our “Friends” when something big is happening. Soon, with a planned upgrade to our website that will include subscriber access to breaking news and expanded content, we will be tying in social media as well, so our “Friends” will be able to get timely news more quickly and easily.
But my colleagues here in the office will tell you that I tend to rant and rave about how inaccurate a lot of the information is that shows up on Facebook, mobile phones and, to a lesser extent, other social media such as Twitter, which aren’t quite as popular yet in our area.
I have a little egg on my face right now, though, for reasons that I’ll explain in a moment – and why I complain.
This whole issue became a hot topic following the tragic shootings at Clackamas Town Center last month. A whole raft of false rumors spread across the electronic landscape.
Slate magazine writer William Saletan was one of many who criticized the role instant communication played in misinformation. Among the examples Saletan cited were that there were multiple shooters, that the killer was at large, that he used an automatic weapon, and more.
After the tragedy in Connecticut (and after I started thinking about writing on this topic), at a Dec. 16 news conference, Connecticut State Police warned about misinformation about the school shooting in Newtown being spread over social media and said those spreading falsehoods could be prosecuted under the law.
The activities that prompted that warning included people posing as the shooter in the case, using other IDs and mimicking the crime scene and criminal activity that took place, police said.
It’s true that some of the misinformation that arose from both cases came from mainstream media, which often are trying to get information to viewers and readers as fast as possible and frequently are misinformed in the initial hours after such incidents, since they – and authorities who often give them unsubstantiated information in breaking news situations – are working amid chaos, often with some hysteria.
For example, mainstream media initially reported the Connecticut shooter was Ryan Lanza, the actual killer’s brother. Apparently, that happened when a law enforcement official transposed the brothers’ names in a statement to the media.
That’s one problem, and I personally take breaking news reports with a grain of salt for that reason. They’re not trying to mislead us, but the facts aren’t always nailed down.
Another problem, though, is more sinister.
In the hours after the crime, links to Ryan Lanza’s Facebook profile spread around social media and some websites and broadcasters used his profile picture in their coverage of the shooting, identifying him as the shooter. Twitter profiles of users with similar names were also passed around. None were actually accounts belonging to Ryan Lanza, and Adam Lanza has no known social media presence.
Social media spread all sorts of “details” of the crime that were false.
You don’t have to look too far to find other examples of Facebook hoaxes. It happened after Hurricane Sandy hit New Jersey. There’s a whole page dedicated to the subject on urbanlegends.about.com.
I was already thinking about this whole issue when it all came home to roost for us here at The New Era – exactly what I’ve been talking about.
Wednesday, Dec. 19, started with a raft of social media rumors that swept through Sweet Home High School (and many other schools around the state) concerning “planned” attacks in conjunction with the Mayan-calendar end-of-the-world predictions, etc.
Thursday morning, Dec. 20, I decided we should take a photo of the cops patrolling the high school, so I strolled over to the campus to see if I could take one. That’s when things went downhill for me as a journalist committed to accuracy.
Having shot the photo (that readers saw in our Dec. 26 edition), I left the high school and walked back to our office – a three- minute trip. Shortly after that, I became aware that local cops were looking for a suspect in what, I had to assume, had been some kind of crime. But I didn’t know at that moment what it had been or where.
Then we got a call from a parent about a supposed lockdown at the high school. I had just been there 10 minutes before, talking with the police. There had been no lockdown.
Except there was. It had gone into effect, apparently, during the three minutes I spent walking back. Already irritated by the misinformation I’d been hearing about, I told a staff member to post a Facebook announcement saying there was no lockdown. It didn’t take too long to find out otherwise. Yep, should have called the high school – except that I had just been there. Bad journalism. Self-flagellation time.
One of the problems with the technology we enjoy in our world today is that with the flick of a couple of buttons you or I could be communicating with thousands of people, who can then communicate with thousands more. Here in Sweet Home, simply because we don’t yet have massive Twitter followings, the scale may not be that large, but the potential problems associated with those capabilities remain.
Say there’s an accident or a fire or a fight. Witnesses whip out the cellphones and start texting or posting details to their Facebooks. They may include photos.
At a certain level, a lot of that can be good. News reports these days frequently refer to examples where bystanders got video of someone getting beaten up by rogue cops or getting mugged.
What isn’t so great, though, is all the misinformation that gets disseminated.
Here in Sweet Home I can quickly recall several examples, such as the rumor that Wynonna wasn’t coming to the 2012 Oregon Jamboree last summer – not sure exactly how that one got started, or how Sportsman’s Holiday was going to be cancelled. A couple of years ago, when the power line came down in the Thriftway parking lot, the (false) story that a woman had been killed spread like wildfire. And did you hear that a cop got shot during the police chase in the Avenues in late October? That was the hot news during “live” coverage by bystanders.
Rumors have been around since the dawn of time, I’m guessing, since misinformation has been – the earliest historical reference that I can think of being the serpent’s bold-faced lie to Eve in the Garden of Eden.
We live in an age in which truth isn’t valued as it once was, but I still think people want to be right. And in many cases, people who witness an event aren’t always right in their recall of what just happened, as any police officer who interviews witnesses can tell you.
Not to sound snotty, but even if you’ve seen something, it’s amazing how your mind can smudge the details. Even experienced reporters and law enforcement officials don’t always get it right, but we’re used to doing it and we probably aren’t as impacted by emotion (which can really twist the facts) as someone for whom reporting facts isn’t an everyday occupation. Timing, though, as my recent experience demonstrates, can mess us up.
What’s wrong with misinformation? We live in a day in which truth is not valued as it once was, where what I (generically) think is right is what’s right. Baloney. I disagree with that notion on all levels. The fact that I decide it’s appropriate to spread a message, without making every effort to ensure its accuracy, can lead to repercussions far beyond what instantly come to mind.
Most immediately, rumors can cause unnecessary hysteria and, potentially, bad blood. On a longer-term basis, rumors reduce trust. If you never know whether what you’re reading is factually accurate, one’s level of skepticism about the world in general, including members of one’s own community, will be negatively impacted.
A 2011 scientific study pubished in the journal “Applied Cognitive Psychology,” suggests that false information stays in people’s memories even when they’ve been corrected, which in the words of the study’s authors, speaking particularly to the impact on law enforcement, “illustrates the importance of minimizing post-event misinformation or at least considering the power of such misinformation in creating long-lasting false memories.”
I’m going long here, but I’ll just add that one of the biggest problems I see on Facebook is the “shoot-from-the-hip” mentality that results in people being called out, branded with all manner of names (justified or not), and in many cases, I’d warrant, outright libeled.
The long-term effects can be devastating to the reputation of an individual or organization. Once that post hits cyberspace, there’s almost no way to retrieve it. So if you call someone a thief or a cheat, or if you say something bad about General Motors or the Girl Scouts, thanks to Google it’s likely there for a very long time, if not perpetuity. Thus, rumors can have an enduring effect.
The truth doesn’t always come out in the marketplace of ideas, as some would like to think. When you imply that so-and-so stole your chainsaw, the fact that your next-door neighbor borrowed it and your son forgot to tell you doesn’t necessarily clear the air for all the readers who saw that initial post.
One long-term effect of such misinformation is that we’ll likely see more court actions involving Internet libel and, even worse, it’s not inconceivable in our day of receding individual liberties that regulation could result.
As one commentator I read recently put it, “punish people for spreading falsehoods, and you will find yourself ‘chilling’ truth.” Liberty requires responsibility.
I admit that a lot of this sounds self-serving since, as a newspaper, our business is disseminating information. But we never publish any information that hasn’t been substantiated or that we have doubts about.
As in the case of the unfortunate lock-down story, we correct errors as soon as possible. Obviously, we can make mistakes in the helter-skelter world of fast-breaking news stories, stifling deadlines and sometimes last-minute phone calls, but we correct them.
If we don’t have credibility, we have little to offer. The same goes for Facebook as a disseminator of reliable news. Maybe, maybe not.