Los Angeles Times (Sunday)

When conspiracy theories are used to prey on Latinos

- By Jean Guerrero Jean Guerrero is the author of “Crux: A Cross-Border Memoir” and “Hatemonger: Stephen Miller, Donald Trump, and the White Nationalis­t Agenda.” She is a contributi­ng writer to Opinion.

Last year, I was working on a coronaviru­s story for the PBS NewsHour when my father texted me a since-removed YouTube video titled “How to wipe out the corona virus THT in 10 min.” A chiropract­or with a graying beard named John Bergman — with more than half a million YouTube subscriber­s and an office in Huntington Beach — said that taking vitamin C and drinking hot water would kill the virus and that the pandemic media coverage was “designed to take away your rights.”

Since the pandemic began, Latinos like my dad, a Mexican immigrant, have been hit with a torrent of false claims about COVID-19 on social media, including that the pandemic is a hoax. When I called Papi to urge him to wear a mask, his mind was made up: He said I was brainwashe­d. He didn’t believe my mother, who is a doctor, about COVID risks, either. I was frightened for his safety and angry at the people preying on Latinos’ learned distrust of authoritie­s.

Latinos, like other communitie­s of color, have long been targets of inhumane medical policies and practices, such as the sterilizat­ion of a third of Puerto Rico’s women between the 1930s and 1970s and of thousands of California Latinos. Our hard-earned skepticism can be an asset, but in the pandemic, it has contribute­d to high infection and death rates in the Latino community.

Now, Latinos lag behind in vaccinatio­n rates, driven in part by Spanish-language disinforma­tion deliberate­ly targeting us on Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp and more. The conspiracy forces that tried to depress Latino voter turnout with lies about the election now appear to be using internet platforms to tell Latinos the vaccine contains a microchip, alters DNA or causes stillbirth­s. The misinforma­tion then spreads through word of mouth.

María Teresa Kumar, the chief executive of Voto Latino, said vaccine disinforma­tion is meant to further erode Latinos’ trust in institutio­ns. “It’s the most morbid form of voter suppressio­n,” she said. Even her Colombian American mother, who works in elder care, feared the vaccine because she heard it wasn’t safe for human use. Kumar had to point out to her that she made sure Kumar got every single vaccine when she was a little girl.

Kumar recently co-founded the Latino Anti-Disinforma­tion Lab, which found that 51% of unvaccinat­ed Latinos don’t plan to or are hesitant to get vaccinated. For Spanish-dominant speakers, it’s 67%. The lab aims to sway the one-quarter of respondent­s who are on the fence.

“Once somebody has consumed misinforma­tion such that they’ve internaliz­ed it and formed an assessment, it’s extraordin­arily difficult and resource-intensive to get them to change their mind,” said Angelo Carusone, chief executive of Media Matters and the lab’s co-founder.

Days after Papi texted me, my Mexican abuela, who lives in San Diego and speaks little English, sent me a WhatsApp message with a Spanish-language video claiming the virus was created by Big Pharma for profit. She was reluctant to be vaccinated because, she said, “they’re experiment­ing on us.”

But my aunt made her an appointmen­t and persuaded her to get a shot, pointing out that doctors, nurses and other healthcare workers were vaccinated. My aunt, who runs a Mexican restaurant, says only two of her 40 employees took advantage of early vaccines for food industry workers. “They were like, ‘If you’re going to make me get it, I’ll quit,’” she said.

Another relative told me she won’t get the vaccine because she’s suspicious of accelerate­d clinical trials and doesn’t want to be a “guinea pig,” even though scientists did not cut any corners.

Last year, my Puerto Rican aunt emailed me and dozens of others urging us to watch a bogus conspiracy theory video, “Plandemic,” claiming that masks “activate” COVID-19 and that vaccines “kill millions.” YouTube and Facebook removed it but only after it was viewed at least 8 million times.

I wrote to my aunt, fact-checking the video and expressing my frustratio­n with fraudsters preying on her worries. She thanked me and said, “I forgot to check who was creating this. My cousin sent it to me through Facebook.” She said she’s been wary of official informatio­n because the government had done a “poor job preventing and controllin­g the disease.”

Skepticism toward the authoritie­s adds to vaccine resistance in an already vulnerable community.

Systemic neglect, police brutality and violent immigratio­n enforcemen­t don’t exactly encourage Latinos’ trust. But there are ways for communitie­s to fight back.

Social media campaigns like #VacunateYa are working to dispel myths with facts. #YaBastaFac­ebook is urging Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg to “close the Spanish content moderation gap.” (One analysis after the 2020 election found that Facebook put warnings on half of false Englishlan­guage posts but only on 10% of Spanish-language misinforma­tion.)

PEN America has released English and Spanish guides for media literacy and how to talk to family and friends who share bad informatio­n. “You have to bring a level of empathy,” said Nora Benavidez, PEN America’s director of free expression.

We’re all vulnerable to being tricked. But it is particular­ly deadly when conspiracy theorists are targeting Latino essential workers who have sustained the American economy during the pandemic. We have to look out for one another — and use our familial connectedn­ess and skepticism to fight those trying to use those strengths against us.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States