Efforts to Combat Misinformation Falter Despite Widespread Campaigns

In a striking confrontation between journalism and the Church of Scientology, Toronto Star columnist Justin Ling recently found himself fielding a phone call from David Bloomberg, a high-ranking Scientology executive, who took issue with a passing reference in one of Ling’s columns.

The call came on a quiet Saturday afternoon in January after Ling had published a critique of the Canadian government’s approach to hate crimes legislation. In the column, Ling questioned how proposed laws against protests that “provoke a state of fear” might apply to various scenarios, including protesters outside Scientology buildings asking, “Where is Shelly Miscavige?”

Shelly Miscavige, wife of Scientology leader David Miscavige, has not been seen publicly in nearly two decades. Her disappearance has become a rallying point for critics of the organization, most notably former Scientologist and actress Leah Remini, who filed a missing persons report with the Los Angeles Police Department in 2013.

During the call, Bloomberg insisted the LAPD had investigated and declared concerns about Miscavige “unfounded.” He compared repeating questions about her whereabouts to amplifying Ku Klux Klan propaganda or the antisemitic “Protocols of the Elders of Zion.” According to Ling, Bloomberg suggested the columnist harbored “animosity” toward Scientology, citing other critical statements Ling had made about the organization over the years.

Ling held firm, explaining that the reference was fair comment that accurately described a protest movement that shouldn’t be censored under proposed legislation. The confrontation highlights the aggressive media relations tactics the Church of Scientology has become known for when dealing with perceived criticism.

The incident serves as a launching point for Ling’s broader examination of misinformation in modern society. He argues that society has lost the battle against misinformation, not because of a sudden influx of false information, but because of fundamental changes in how information is produced and consumed in the digital age.

Citing research from Princeton and Northwestern universities, Ling points to studies showing that people are actually quite good at identifying false information. The problem, researchers found, is that many share this information anyway, particularly when it provokes strong emotions like outrage.

“The data suggest that people know they are sharing lies — but they do it anyway. Because the emotion it makes them feel upgrades this information to a truth beyond truth,” Ling writes.

Another study from 2004 revealed an even more troubling tendency: people who were repeatedly told certain health statements were false eventually began to misremember them as true. This “extremely undesirable side effect” occurred across age groups, suggesting a fundamental flaw in how human memory processes corrections to misinformation.

Ling argues that our current information ecosystem has exacerbated these natural human tendencies. The mainstream press has been systematically defunded throughout the 21st century, leading to more sensationalized coverage to compete for attention. Meanwhile, the influencer economy has become saturated, requiring participants to increase output and emotional intensity to stand out.

Social media platforms, designed to maximize engagement, often promote content that provokes anger and outrage. The rise of artificial intelligence has further blurred the lines between real and fabricated content, making it increasingly difficult to distinguish truth from fiction.

The recent conflict between Israel and Iran serves as a stark example of this information crisis. Ling points to the White House mixing “old baseball clips with footage of airstrikes in Iran,” creating “war hype videos” borrowing from video games, and a “deluge of AI-generated videos of missile strikes and terror” flooding social media platforms.

Attempts to combat this wave of misinformation through fact-checking and media literacy efforts are largely ineffective, Ling argues. Even if every false image were debunked and every AI-generated video flagged, people would still share content that resonates emotionally, regardless of its accuracy.

“The evidence tells us that even if we could get our media to debunk every single fake image, and get a few platforms to label every AI-generated airstrike video, flag every deepfake, warn users of each false narrative — it would not truly matter,” he writes.

Rather than continuing to fight what Ling considers a losing battle, he proposes a radical solution: consume less information. He reminisces about the days of morning newspapers and evening newscasts, which asked only an hour of people’s time and provided a curated, manageable flow of information.

“We need to go on an informational diet,” Ling concludes. “We need to become more discerning with what we want to know, and what we need to know.”

The confrontation with Scientology, while seemingly minor, exemplifies the broader information crisis facing society. When even a passing reference to a controversial topic can trigger an aggressive response from a powerful organization, it underscores the high stakes of our information battles and the challenges journalists face in navigating this complex landscape.