When mass protests erupted in Lebanon on October 17, 2019, people from all walks of life posted their calls for action and shared their opinions on social media. Many of the videos, photos and messages they shared seemed quite spontaneous and visceral, expressing rage and dissatisfaction with the current economic and political situation. But most people mainly shared content created by others, often without fact checking claims, authenticating sources, or verifying credibility.
Here lies the dilemma of our rich media ecosystem: an overabundance of information and tools to disseminate opinions—supposedly a diverse marketplace of ideas good for democracy— countered by an overwhelming amount of false information, propaganda, and noise. On one hand, citizens today have an unprecedented access to information and tools to instantly communicate across vast distances. On the other hand, information overload may cloud judgement, particularly in redistributing information—assuming well intention. But the tools of freedom of expression may be easily abused for intentional ill purposes too—a privilege that was the sole domain of governments and major corporations in the past.
More information is supposed to lead to more informed citizenry, the linchpin of democratic governance, but too much information is leading to informed tribalism—the outcome of what communication scholars call echo chamber effects, where people tend to associate with likeminded fellows (on social media) who reinforce their biases and prejudices.
Because we are overwhelmed with information and have limited time and energy, we more often than not tend to select media, people, and ideas that reconfirm our beliefs—what scholars call selective exposure. When we access such reconfirming information, our critical defenses are down, and we are more likely to share reassuring views unquestionably, while we are more likely to dismiss and delete information that challenges our beliefs.
When we ran a recent national survey to discern how Lebanese accessed news about the uprising, we asked about their social media habits. At first, we were pleased that a majority (80%) of respondents said they verified original sources before sharing, and 73% said they only shared news from institutions or persons they trusted.
But then we questioned people’s understanding of the concept of verification when we realized that sizeable majorities on both sides of the political divide admitted posting anything that supported their cause: 69% of pro-protest Lebanese said they published any news that supports the protests compared to 0% of anti-protest Lebanese, while 39% of anti-protest Lebanese said they published any news that opposes the protests compared to 0% of pro-protest Lebanese. Furthermore, we noticed that those who supported the protests tended to get their information from media sources that were also pro-protests and vice versa—evidence of selective exposure.
Democratic societies face a historic challenge today. In the past, journalists and media institutions had the grave responsibility to keep society informed, while the law tried to shield the rights of a free press from government incursions. With the stupendous power in the hands of citizens today, this relationship is altered. Journalists and legacy news institutions feel their traditional values have left them powerless in the face of false information spread by citizens, while governments (at least those not in a perpetual coma) have countered by erecting an additional branch to their armed forces: electronic armies and cyberwar brigades.
What is the role of citizens in this context? We may rush to judge the masses as irresponsible, unethical, and ignorant. But what have governments done to equip these citizens?
During WWII, the US invested massively in propaganda that warned citizens against spreading sensitive information. The phrase “Loose lips sink ships” still resonates today. The goal was not only to avoid leaking intelligence to the enemy, but primary to limit demoralizing speech and dangerous rumors that could incite internal conflict. Today, many countries invest in media literacy education as a measure to educate the public and empower them with the new tools of communication.
What has the Lebanese government done in this arena? Has the Ministry of Education taken seriously the constant calls for integrating media literacy into school and university curricula? The most troubling statistic from our survey found that only 6% of Lebanese had some media literacy training in their life. Preliminary data from other countries, including Iraq, show much high percentages. Unfortunately, Lebanon continues to ignore the need for media literacy education at its own risk.
With the Coronavirus ravaging the world today, will we learn from past lessons? Will we realize that media illiterate citizens— ill-trained in methods of information verification and unaware of human tendencies to reconfirm biases—will most likely engage in dangerous, bigoted and harmful media habits? Will the new Lebanese government realize the value of generalizing media literacy education that has the potential to turn a whole society into responsible ethical citizens who not only share higher quality information but also serve as fact-checkers and counter false information?