Spread of misinformation an ‘infodemic’
Expert ‘astounded’ with how fast false news has developed during COVID
For misinformation expert Timothy Caulfield, the most absurd aspect of the vaccine “shedding” conspiracy is that the very same people who once called COVID-19 a hoax are now scared of the virus — but only if it comes from people who’ve already been vaccinated.
The myth warns that people who have been immunized can “shed” coronavirus spike proteins and infect others.
“That’s the best example of how completely incoherent their views are,” Caulfield said. “There’s no conceptual consistency at all … The real virus is a hoax, but the shedding virus, which has no scientific foundation behind it at all, is a concern to the degree to which they’re not going to allow people into buildings and they’re going to wear masks. It’s just astounding.”
Caulfield, a professor in the Faculty of Law and the School of Public Health at the University of Alberta — and author of “Is Gwyneth Paltrow Wrong About Everything?” — has been researching the spread of misinformation over the course of the pandemic and refers to it as an “infodemic” due to the sheer volume of nonsense going around.
The fake news can have dire consequences, such as when a man in the United States died last year after drinking chloroquine, a malaria treatment that then-president Donald Trump touted as effective against COVID-19. (It’s not).
Caulfield has been studying misinformation for decades but said even he is “astounded” with how fast and furious it’s spread during the pandemic. One reason is that conspiracy peddlers have been successful in expanding their scope of influence by presenting civil disobedience as an ideological cause and using inoffensive terms such as freedom and liberty.
The idea is that if you believe in freedom, you should also believe that wearing masks is a choice. By making masks a civil rights issue, the health implications and scientific evidence become less important.
“They’ll really frame the initial conversation around these intuitively appealing concepts, but then once you’re brought in, you become part of the community and it becomes easier to sidestep what the science actually says,” Caulfield said. “Research tells us that, unfortunately, this kind of approach can be quite effective.”
Another strategy is appealing to personal identity; while people do trust academics and medical experts, they are almost equally likely to trust “someone like them,” Caulfield says. This could be a neighbour, a family member or a random huckster on YouTube who seems to substantiate what the guy down the street told you about masks.
People will often seek out those who validate their preexisting world view, in what is known as confirmation bias.
Taken together, the appeal to identity and ideology have allowed misinformation mongers to broaden their allure to groups one might not typically associate with harmful practices, for example, the new-age wellness community.
One of the hallmarks of the infodemic is the idea that the government is not telling you everything. Practitioners in the wellness movement often express skepticism toward conventional medicine and mainstream science, and so have found a home in a movement driven by suspicion, distrust and autonomy.
“Often it’s the exact same community,” Caulfield said. “They’re against pharmaceuticals, they’re against Big Pharma, they’re about alternative medicine, they’re about supplements — but also (open to) hydroxychloroquine.”
Anyone can fall prey to misinformation. There is some evidence youth are more likely to believe it (probably because they’re more exposed) and that older folks are more likely to share it, Caulfield said.
He added while it’s important not to generalize, studies show people who lean toward populist beliefs are more likely to be suspicious of public health systems.
“We have data from the United States and we know that Republicans are by far the most (vaccine) hesitant demographic down there. In Canada, the polarization is less extreme, but you definitely see it … until very recently, Alberta was the most hesitant province. Also the most conservative province.”
Alberta, which recently had the highest rate of COVID-19 in North America, has always had a sort of “individualistic cowboy populist libertarian” streak, says University of Alberta political scientist Jared Wesley.
Distrust of government as a part of populism makes sense because at its heart it’s about opposition to the elites, Wesley said.
“Small-c” conservatives have a harder time internalizing and accepting government directives around public health if they don’t seem to affect them or their community in a direct and tangible way, Wesley said. He believes it’s linked to the higher rates of COVID-19 in rural parts of Alberta compared to urban, he added.
“It’s a myth that just because (conservatives) are individualistic doesn’t mean that they don’t feel a sense of community,” Wesley said. “They do, it’s just a different sense of community.”
It comes down to empathy and the ability to step outside of one’s frame of reference.
“That’s why you saw during the #MeToo movement, conservatives saying “We should absolutely support these women because I have a wife and daughters. Whereas progressives were saying ‘Well, if you didn’t have a wife or daughters, why would you not still care?’ ”
Finally, those who embrace populist politics tend to have what Wesley calls a fixed mindset, as opposed to a fluid mindset. It comes back to people seeking to have their pre-existing beliefs validated as a source of comfort. It’s why religion is more popular among conservatives than liberals.
“The fixed mindset is a key element of conspiratorial thinking,” Wesley said. “People cling to conspiracies because they provide a kind of certainty in an uncertain world, and they’re not getting it from experts who … are more likely to not obfuscate, but to provide nuance.”
It’s why someone might dismiss a public-health expert with decades of experience as someone who doesn’t know what they are talking about and then buy in to the dubious claims of a YouTube entrepreneur.
The Washington-based Center for Countering Digital Hate released a report that found that 65 per cent of anti-vaccine misinformation was produced by just 12 individuals, dubbed the “disinformation dozen.”
“I think it really highlights how it’s a top-down, bottom-up phenomenon” Caulfield said. “So it’s top-down in that there’s prominent individuals playing a big role in shaping the discourse, and it’s is bottom up in that it’s us sharing that information.”
How do we stop it? Speed matters, Caulfield said; debunking misinformation before it spreads is important, as is teaching digital literacy and critical thinking skills, he added.