Lessons Learned: My Unexpected Role as a Misinformation Superspreader

The recently uncovered a decade-long mistake has forced one professional speaker to confront the uncomfortable reality that even experts can become unwitting spreaders of misinformation.

Dominic Thurbon, a professional speaker and author who makes his living sharing information through presentations, webcasts, and media appearances, recently discovered that a historical anecdote he had been using for over ten years was completely fabricated. The story about the “great horse manure crisis” of the late 1800s—which claimed that London streets were drowning in horse waste until the automobile arrived to save the day—turns out to be nothing more than an urban legend.

“I’d become a misinformation superspreader,” Thurbon confesses, noting the irony as someone who has published work on the very subject of misinformation.

The tale, which Thurbon had sourced from seemingly reputable references including supposed citations from The Times of London, claimed that 100,000+ horses in cities like London produced mountains of manure daily, threatening to bury city streets under ten feet of waste within decades. The story further alleged that an international urban planning conference convened in New York in 1898 to address the crisis was abandoned after just three days when no solution could be found.

The Times of London has since published a clarification confirming no such article ever appeared in their publication. Historical records indicate the first documented urban planning conference actually took place in Washington DC in 1909, with no evidence of the purported 1898 New York meeting.

This case highlights a troubling reality about our information ecosystem. If a professional who specializes in communication and fact-checking can fall victim to misinformation, what chance do average consumers of information have in today’s complex media landscape?

“I tell you about it for two reasons,” Thurbon explains. “The first is that telling the truth is important – especially when we’ve made a mistake. The second is because I know I’m not alone and I suspect you’ve done this sort of thing, too.”

Research suggests he’s right. Despite honesty being one of our most valued traits, studies indicate most people lie multiple times daily. Some research suggests over 60% of us lie multiple times every hour. This behavior extends to public figures and institutions—fact-checkers found only 3% of former President Donald Trump’s statements were completely “true,” while Vice President Kamala Harris fared marginally better at around 12%.

The problem extends beyond politics. Last year, London-based tech company Builder.ai collapsed after attracting over $400 million in funding from investors including Microsoft when it was revealed their supposed “AI” solution was actually hundreds of human engineers in India. Meanwhile, consumer watchdog CHOICE found that only 4 out of 20 tested sunscreens actually delivered the SPF protection advertised on their labels.

Social media has exponentially amplified the problem. Videos about ADHD have generated over 6 billion views on TikTok alone, yet medical researchers have determined that less than half contain clinically accurate information. This means billions of views of potentially harmful medical misinformation are being shared, often by well-meaning users unaware of their inaccuracy.

The rise of generative AI tools like ChatGPT and Gemini has further complicated the landscape, making the production of convincing—but not necessarily accurate—content easier than ever. Consulting giant Deloitte recently had to refund over $100,000 to the Australian government after submitting a report containing AI-generated inaccuracies.

In this new reality, where digital content can spread globally in minutes, the responsibility to verify information before sharing it has never been more critical. As Thurbon suggests, “Our new mantra must be ‘check before you share.'” This advice applies equally to professional communicators and everyday social media users.

The horse manure story ironically serves its original purpose—though not in the way intended. Rather than illustrating the unpredictability of technological innovation, it now stands as a cautionary tale about our vulnerability to compelling but false narratives, even when we consider ourselves informed and careful communicators.