How Digital Illiteracy Paves the Way For Fake News
A WhatsApp Generation
When I think of social media, I think of the usual suspects: Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, YouTube, etc. For my father, none of these will ever be as enticing as the perilous world of WhatsApp — and I’m sure this is the case for many children of immigrants. Somehow, WhatsApp has become a cornerstone for the immigrant experience, or a “mainstay of immigrant life”. The app has over a billion regular users who can call or text for free with a stable internet connection. Gone is the time when my father had to buy a calling card just to speak to his mother or siblings.
But the charm of WhatsApp is not defined by these frequent phone calls. Rather, WhatsApp is more properly defined by it’s strange revival of chain messages, and their intense virality. As a kid, there was nothing more upsetting than receiving a creepypasta in a chain message. Diligently and fearfully, I’d send it off to 5 to 7 of my closest friend to make sure that Bloody Mary stayed out of my room that night. But as terrifying as they felt, these chain messages had less real world consequences than what we see on WhatsApp. Bloody Mary would have never falsely claimed that one bowl of freshly bowled garlic water could cure Coronavirus — she just wanted to rip my eyeballs out.
Unknown to my father, I spent many years with my WhatsApp notifications permanently silenced. Subsequently, I became a master in redirecting questions on every trip to the kitchen or the living room. “Did you see that thing I sent you on WhatsApp?” hardly ever got a chance to leave my father’s mouth in completion before my siblings and I found a new topic all together. Only when the pandemic overcame the world had I realized the mistake I was making.
A Digital Divide
I was born in 1999. Though I am able to relate to the nostalgia that my older peers share about “the good old days”, never have I experienced a world without technology. It’s true that we played on swings instead of scrolling through TikTok, and that we had real toys over iPads, but it seemed that I was still always only a few feet away from the nearest computer or a television — especially in the classroom. I had the privilege of a digital experience, that shaped me into the digitally literate person I am today. My youth was defined by adults being concerned about my online experience. From predators, to scams, to other inappropriate content, every adult in my life had convinced me that the internet was a dark and scary place. But what happens now, when the online experience is much more complex than the fears of “stranger danger”? What happens when we grow up to be more digitally literate than the adults who taught us how to type, or even use a mouse?
It’s hard to believe that a generational digital divide could possibly exist despite how technologically reliant the world seems to be. A digital divide in general could be defined by the prevalence or access to technology in one’s life, which then defines the information or opportunities that you receive. A generational gap is described by the way younger people learn and adopt new technologies in a way that older people are not. Gen Z-ers and millennials are often perceived by this acceptance and comfort with technology, so much so, that experts have claimed that devices that younger employees use can be seen as “an extension of their brain”. This is not to say that older workers are not also dependent on technology. The difference seems to be that they are not as “cognitively integrated” with their devices and other forms of technology. The problem then is how these vulnerabilities can negatively spill over into other parts of life.
For most of my childhood, my father had been a staunch traditionalist. He held onto his Nokia for as long as he could. It wasn’t until 2013 that my siblings and I finally prodded it out of his hand and replaced it with an iPhone 5. I remember feeling accomplished and finally useful as I sat next to him, 12 years old and already well versed on the world of technology. I remember the way his eyes lit up as we downloaded WhatsApp. For the first time, access to his family was just a click away. My father had left Pakistan in his late teenage years and had only been able to visit a handful of times since. He was forced to realize that the technology he had previously rejected was the only accessible gateway to his family abroad. But this embrace came with a sense of naivety that has been difficult to shed.
WhatsApp opened my father up to more than just a constant stream of communication with his family overseas. WhatsApp is where him and his friends pass around funny memes written in Urdu and Punjabi. WhatsApp is my father’s version of TikTok — I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been next to him while he blasts each forwarded clip at full volume. WhatsApp is where he stays informed on everything from the activities of our local mosque’s management committee, to American and Pakistani news, to updates on the Covid-19 pandemic. Though it sounds innocent, the reality is that around 50 percent of the content he reads from WhatsApp is outdated, inaccurate, or downright false. My father’s baby boomer and hardworking immigrant upbringing did not equip him with the necessary tools needed to understand this.
By the time my siblings and I began to insist that some of the stuff he was being sent was just false, he was already in too deep. It was us that had helped him understand that technology was not the enemy, but it was also us that left him defenseless to the more dark sided nature of technology. He defended WhatsApp for being fun, free, and easy to use. To him, why would people use this beloved platform to spread misinformation?
The Configuration of Fake News
In modern times, many Americans use the internet to source news. Facebook has become a popular source and central target in the conversation regarding “fake news”. Studies show that bots are responsible for the initial spread of these fake stories. As soon as one of these articles is published, by design, bots jump in to do the heavy lifting. This early activity then makes way for actual human engagement through retweets and reposts. Bots are also responsible for bringing in influential figures who can help to falsely legitimize the facts. The second someone with a big following picks up the story, (such as the 45th president) more and more people are inclined to believe it. But while many of us like to assume that these social bots (defined as software-controlled social media profiles) are solely to blame, the sad reality is that humans are more culpable than we’d like to admit. Simply put, the relationship between bots and humans in the space of fake news is one that is “symbiotic”. This can further be understood through the novelty hypothesis.
The novelty hypothesis is defined by the way human attention is attracted to novelty facts — anything that is shocking or designed to trigger an emotional reaction. Stories that fit this description encourage sharing because it helps the reposter be perceived as someone who has status as an insider, or as someone who is very aware and active with the activities of the world. In a study done by Filippo Menczer and his colleagues, this false news was always seen to be more “novel” and shareable than the truth. Another aspect of the problem is that fake news is often perpetuated by those in our inner circle. These attention grabbing stories are shared by people we know and love — close family and friends. And why would these people lie to us? When you read something from someone who you have an established layer of trust with, it can feel like there is no need to fact check them.
Protecting the Ones We Love
Statistically, this phenomena occurs more frequently among older people. Studies have shown that Americans in their 60s have a higher likelihood of sharing or visiting these “fake news” sources in comparison to those under 29. Superficially, this may not sound like a big deal, until we realize that these falsehoods heavily alter our perceived reality. These perceptions guide us in our navigation of our everyday life — especially on who we vote for at the polls. These falsehoods also infiltrate other parts of our lives, such as decisions we make regarding our health. And for the aging populations with weaker immune systems, these decisions are more dire.
The pandemic has caused an increased rise in the circulation of these false stories, and I’ve done my father an injustice by leaving him vulnerable to them. Unlike Facebook, an open forum, WhatsApp is entirely private through its encryptions. Absolutely nobody can read the messages that are shared on this platform — not even those that work at WhatsApp. Users sign up with a phone number rather than having to register a real name or email, which leaves less opportunity for accountability. These conversations are also being had in a very private sphere, which makes it impossible for outsiders to come in and offer any fact checking. These seemingly innocent family group chats are doing much more than just updating each other on their personal lives. They are spreading lies that are being accepted as the truth.
The rise in this behavior led me to understand that we all must be more protective of our family members who fall into more vulnerable groups. My father is newly 60, and the last thing I want is for him to grow fearful over vaccines designed to save his life. We need to become the trusted sources that our loved ones can turn to in times of confusion. Bots and algorithms should not have the influence to negatively and falsely influence our perception of the world. This is not a sign of progression and we should wholeheartedly rebuke it. If these practices continue to go unchallenged, it shows a dangerous and false acceptance. We should all make an active effort to raise consciousness on these issues, and deeply understand the consequences of not only a digital divide, but digital exploitation. Only then can we peacefully coexist with the technology around us.
