Thank you very much for your invitation to appear today. My apologies for not being able to attend in person.
I am Dr. Claire Wardle. I'm a research fellow at the Shorenstein Center on Media, Politics and Public Policy at Harvard's Kennedy School.
I'm also the executive chair of First Draft. We are a non-profit dedicated to tackling the challenges associated with trust and truth in a digital age. We were founded three years ago specifically to help journalists learn how to verify content on the social web, specifically images and videos. That remains my research speciality.
In 2016, First Draft began focusing on mapping and researching the information ecosystem. We designed, developed and managed collaborative journalism projects in the U.S. with ProPublica, and then in 2017 ran projects in France, the U.K. and Germany during their elections. This year we're currently running significant projects in the U.S. around the mid-terms and the elections in Brazil, so we have a lot of on-the-ground experience of information disorder in multiple contexts.
I'm a stickler for definitions and have spent a good amount of time working on developing typologies, frameworks and glossaries. Last October, I co-authored a report with Hossein Derakhshan, a Canadian, which we entitled “Information Disorder”, a term we coined to describe the many varieties of problematic content, behaviours and practices we see in our information ecosystem.
In the report, we differentiated between misinformation, which is false content shared without any intention to cause harm; disinformation, which is false content shared deliberately to cause harm; and, malinformation, which is a term we coined to describe genuine content shared deliberately to cause harm. An example of that would be leaked emails, revenge porn or an image that recirculates during a hurricane but is from a previous natural disaster, our point being that the term “fake news” is not helpful and that in fact a lot of this content is not fake at all. It's how it's used that's problematic.
The report also underlined the need for us to recognize the emotional relationships we have with information. Journalists, researchers and policy-makers tend to assume a rational relationship. Too often we argue that if only there were more quality content we'd be okay, but humans seek out, consume, share and connect around emotions. Social media algorithms reflect this. We engage with content that makes us laugh, cry, angry or feel superior. That engagement means more people see the content and it moves along the path of virality.
Agents of disinformation understand that. They use our emotional susceptibilities to make us vulnerable. They write emotion-ridden headlines and link them to emotional images, knowing that it is these human responses that drive our information ecosystem now.
As a side note, in our election projects we use the tool CrowdTangle, which now has been acquired by Facebook, to search for potentially misleading or false posts. One of the best techniques we have is filtering our search results by Facebook's angry face reaction emoji. It is the best predictor for finding the content that we're looking for.
I have three challenges that I want to stress in this opening statement.
First, we need to understand how visuals work as vehicles for disinformation. Our brains are far more trusting of images, and it takes considerably less cognitive effort to analyze an image compared to a text article. Images also don't require a click-through. They sit already open on our feeds and, in most situations, on our smart phones, which we have a particularly intimate relationship with.
Second, we have an embarrassingly small body of empirical research on information disorder. Much of what we know has been carried out under experimental conditions with undergraduate students, and mostly U.S. undergraduate students. The challenges we face are significant and there's a rush to do something right now, but it's an incredibly dangerous situation when we have so little empirical evidence to base any particular interventions on. In order to study the impact of information disorder in a way such that we can really further our knowledge, we need access to data that only the technology companies have.
Third, the connection between disinformation and ad targeting is the most worrying aspect of the current landscape. While disinformation itself at the aggregate level might not seem persuasive or influential, targeting people based on their demographic profile, previous Internet browsing history and social graph could have the potential to do real damage, particularly in countries that have first-past-the-post electoral systems with a high number of close-fought constituencies. But again, I can't stress enough that we need more research. We simply just don't know.
At this stage, however, I would like to focus specifically on disinformation connected to election integrity. This is a type of information disorder that the technology companies are prepared to take action around. Just yesterday, we saw Facebook announce that around the U.S. mid-terms, they will take down, not just de-rank, disinformation connected to election integrity.
If disinformation is designed to suppress the vote, they can take action, whereas in other forms of information disorder, without external context, they are less willing to take action in a way that actually right now is the right thing.
In 2016 in the U.S., visual posts were micro-targeted to minority communities, suggesting they could stay at home to vote for Hillary Clinton via SMS, giving a short code. Of course, this was not possible. As a minimum, we need to prioritize these types of posts. At a time when the whole spectrum is so complex, that's the type of post we should be taking action on.
In terms of other types of promoted posts that can be microtargeted, there is a clear need for more action; however, the challenge of definitions returns. If any type of policy or even regulation applies simply to ads that mention a candidate or party name, we would be missing the engine of any disinformation campaign, which is messages designed to aggravate existing cleavages in society around ethnicity, religion, race, sexuality, gender and class, as well as specific social issues, whether that's abortion, gun control or tax cuts, for example.
When a candidate, party, activist or foreign disinformation agent can test thousands of versions of a particular message against endless slices of the population, based on the available data on them, the landscape of our elections looks very different very quickly. The marketing tools are designed for toothpaste manufacturers wanting to sell more tubes, or even for organizations like the UNHCR. I used to do that type of microtargeting when I was there, to reach people who were more likely to support refugees. When those mechanisms have been weaponized, what do we do? There is no easy solution to this challenge. Disinformation agents are using these companies exactly as they were designed to be used.
If you haven't read it already, I recommend you read a report just published by the U.K.'s leading fact-checking organization, Full Fact. They lay out their recommendations for online political advertising, calling for a central, open database of political ads, including their content, targeting, reach and spend. They stress that this database needs to be in machine-readable formats, and that it needs to be provided in real time.
The question remains how to define a political ad and whether we should try to publicly define it. Doing so allows agents of disinformation to find other ways to effectively disseminate their messages.
I look forward to taking your questions on what is an incredibly complex situation.
Thank you.