This topic is one I have been thinking about a lot lately, and having conversations about IRL, so I thought it would make a great discussion to bring to the blog.
We have lately seen misinformation spread like wildfire in high-profile and catastrophic ways.
At the recent Olympics, Algerian boxer Imane Khelif was accused of winning because of what many believed was a biological advantage. Although this was eventually revealed as false, Khelif was born female, the reach of this misinformation and transphobic narrative was extending by high profile figures like J.K. Rowling and Elon Musk.
Even before the Olympics closing ceremony, we witnessed riots across the United Kingdom that were also ignited by misinformation.
On July 29, a teenager attacked children at a dance class with a knife, which resulted in the death of three girls. Early reporting identified the attacker “as a Muslim asylum seeker who had arrived on a small boat.” These first reports even gave the wrong name. This incorrect information spread incredibly quickly on social media, when, in fact, the knifeman was born in Britain to Rwandan parents. This clarification didn’t stop the alt-right riots, which began on July 30, from spreading across the country.
But misinformation isn’t just these big headlines. It is in the weight loss advice on social media that tells (and tries to sell) you harmful advice. It can be found in the daily clothing hauls of influencers. It also doesn’t help that if you’re in Canada, legislation limits your ability to click through to read an article on social media platforms, so you only have the headline or caption to go on (this Bill was introduced to protect media outlets with fair pay, but that is another blog post).
These examples, and many more, demonstrate that it is more important than ever that we actively question and evaluate the sources we read. A 24/7 news cycle means outlets are competing for your constant attention (sometimes at the expense of presenting factual information as with the UK example above) and we’re spending more time half-heartedly scrolling, double tapping, or sharing posts.
Talking about fiction is a tool to hone critical thinking—and make us more resilient against misinformation.
One of the cornerstone values of my business is dissecting literature. I facilitate discussions that have us answering questions like: Who is telling this story? What might be their bias? Do I trust their interpretation? It is also is an opportunity to hear the interpretations of others and face our own preconceptions, both exercises that allow us to enrich our understanding of the literature and ourselves. All of this together allows us to identify and mentally move between the author’s intentions, our own interpretations, and the views of others.
The reason having conversations around books can make us more critical thinkers is because it pushes us past passively reading and into analytical thought allowing one’s mind to “[assess] what it reads for clarity, accuracy, precision, relevance, depth, breadth, logic, significance, and fairness. Being open to new ways of thinking, [your mind] values new ideas and learns from what it reads.” Reading critically has all kinds of benefits, but I would argue that reading a book when we know we’re going to have to share our opinions on it with a group means that even before we open the book, we are primed to be curious, cautious, and critical. This is the kind of engagement we want to be applying to everything we read.
In addition, reading novels exposes us to a broader range of views and experiences beyond our own (increasing empathy) and asks us to follow a narrative for longer (instead of only reading a headline). You might even already be actively reading fiction. For example, being a step ahead of a plot if you’re familiar with red herrings or tropes. By identifying, analysing, and collecting literary ‘clues’ as you read, you are engaging with the story in a more cerebral way. You might think it silly to equate reading fiction with how we read the news—they are two different types of writing—but using the skills developed at a book club discussion to think deeply and ask questions about what we read is applicable to both genres.
Talking about literature with others turns reading from a passive exercise to an active one.
I encourage you: get critical. Apply how you read fiction to how you read media sources. This can be reading a full article and evaluating the credibility of a source before sharing a link or post. Try engaging with different media outlets for multiple perspectives when solidifying your own. It has become nearly taboo to listen to opposing thoughts or sources that have a different political leaning than you do, but the more facets of an argument you understand, the more informed you’ll be. Just like in a book club: you aren’t going to agree with every point raised by others.
Falling for misinformation is much more common than you think—it’s meant to be sneaky. In a conversation with a close friend recently I was called out for having believed misinformation—yes, it happens to all kinds of people. As a result, I now find myself slowing down when it comes to reading news articles and continuing to be open to corrections. While this is only my own anecdotal response, I would like to hear if it is common to have this kind of course correction after falling for misinformation. I looked for research on if or how those who fall for misinformation change their behaviours afterwards but wasn’t able to find anything conclusive.
If you’ve fallen for misinformation, did it change how you engage with news and/or social media? What factors do you consider when evaluating a news source? Do you engage with content that opposes your views? If yes, why?