Why the Fight Against Disinformation Is Failing
▼ Summary
– Chairman Jim Jordan and his House Judiciary Committee have led a successful Republican campaign against what they term the “Censorship-Industrial Complex,” claiming to have restored free speech by dismantling fact-checking and disinformation research efforts.
– The movement, supported by figures like Elon Musk and journalists Matt Taibbi and Michael Shellenberger, has used congressional subpoenas, lawsuits, and media campaigns to target entities like the DHS’s Disinformation Governance Board and the Stanford Internet Observatory.
– Key individuals like Nina Jankowicz and Renée DiResta, who worked on disinformation, lost their positions and saw their institutions collapse after being vilified by conservative media and congressional investigations, often without effective institutional defense.
– The conflict has expanded from domestic social media moderation into a global battle, with U.S.-funded media and anti-censorship programs abroad now being targeted as part of the alleged censorship apparatus.
– The result is a significant power shift: former anti-disinformation efforts are largely defunded and discredited, while the anti-censorship movement now enjoys support from major tech platforms and the federal government under the Trump administration.
The battle to control online information has reached a critical juncture, with efforts to combat false narratives facing a powerful and coordinated backlash. What began as a debate over content moderation has escalated into a global conflict over the fundamental nature of free speech, drawing in governments, tech giants, and media institutions. This struggle reveals a deeply polarized landscape where the very tools meant to protect democratic discourse are now portrayed as its greatest threat.
On a cold February day in Washington, House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jim Jordan opened a session with a tone of triumph. He reflected on a dramatic shift from several years prior, when former President Donald Trump and thousands of his supporters faced bans from major social platforms. To Jordan, these actions represented a dangerous assault on American speech, a wrong he believes his committee has helped to right. His remarks were not mere rhetoric; they summarized a series of victories against what he and his allies term the “Censorship-Industrial Complex.”
Jordan detailed how his committee utilized its subpoena power to challenge tech companies and outside groups. He cited correspondence from Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg as evidence that the White House had pressured platforms to remove content. Following these investigations, major policy shifts occurred, including Facebook’s decision to abandon certain fact-checking partnerships and alter its global moderation rules. Jordan’s committee also claimed credit for disrupting the operations of various academic and non-governmental organizations focused on misinformation research.
The star witness for the session was journalist Matt Taibbi, known for his involvement in publishing the “Twitter Files.” These reports, facilitated by Elon Musk, aimed to expose how concerns about misinformation were leveraged to suppress certain political voices online. Taibbi’s testimony called for drastic measures: defunding fact-checking initiatives and halting U.S. support for media development abroad, which he characterized as government propaganda.
Together, Jordan, Taibbi, and Musk have formed a potent alliance. Jordan’s committee provides official scrutiny and subpoena power, Taibbi and similar journalists amplify the allegations, and Musk initiates lawsuits based on their findings. This machinery has systematically targeted individuals and organizations involved in monitoring online falsehoods.
From another perspective, these targeted parties saw themselves as defenders of public safety and informed discourse. During the COVID-19 pandemic, misinformation about vaccines and treatments had life-or-death consequences. The January 6th insurrection demonstrated how political falsehoods could incite violence. Yet the researchers and officials who urged platforms to address these threats now find themselves vilified in Congress, subjected to media campaigns, and facing professional ruin.
The modern flashpoint for this conflict can be traced to a brief announcement in April 2022: the Department of Homeland Security was creating a Disinformation Governance Board, to be led by Nina Jankowicz. A disinformation expert and author, Jankowicz was hired to help coordinate responses to national security-related false narratives, such as operations targeting elections or critical infrastructure.
The announcement was immediately weaponized. Conservative media labeled the board a “Ministry of Truth,” and Jankowicz became a focal point for outrage. A lighthearted TikTok video she made about disinformation was recast as evidence of her frivolity, earning her the nickname “Scary Poppins.” Isolated within DHS and barred from publicly defending herself, Jankowicz watched as the board was disbanded before it ever convened. She ultimately resigned, with Republican lawmakers celebrating her departure as a successful “kill.”
Jankowicz argues that countering disinformation should be a non-partisan issue, citing examples like criminal gangs using false information to exploit migrants. Instead, she says, the effort became coded as a liberal project and abandoned by institutions afraid of controversy. “You are never going to be out of the crosshairs,” she warns, speaking from experience.
The campaign soon found another target in Renée DiResta, research manager at the Stanford Internet Observatory (SIO). Her team’s analysis of misinformation during the 2020 election attracted the attention of Taibbi and journalist Michael Shellenberger. They portrayed the SIO as a central hub for mass censorship, misrepresenting its research. For instance, DiResta’s report noted her team had retrospectively analyzed 859 million tweets and identified 22 million posts as containing misinformation narratives. This was twisted into a claim that she had led an effort to censor 22 million tweets in real-time; in reality, her team had flagged about 3,000 posts to Twitter for review during the election.
Anticipating a damaging narrative, DiResta and her colleagues prepared a detailed, line-by-line rebuttal. Stanford University administration forbade its publication, hoping the controversy would fade. It did not. The SIO was subpoenaed, sued, and ultimately became defunct after a costly legal battle. DiResta now works elsewhere, reflecting that the institution meant to protect her work offered no defense when it was publicly dismantled.
The playbook has proven effective. The Global Alliance for Responsible Media, a coalition of advertisers, was subpoenaed by Jordan’s committee and later sued by Musk’s X platform, leading to its closure. Even organizations dedicated to anti-censorship work, like the Open Technology Fund, which provided tools for internet users in repressive countries, temporarily lost its U.S. funding in the broader purge.
The consequences now extend far beyond U.S. borders. In Serbia, police raided the newsroom of the U.S.-funded Center for Research, Transparency and Accountability, with authorities citing statements from Musk and Trump as justification. The award-winning Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP), which operates in challenging media environments, is under fire and has been forced to lay off staff after being targeted by Shellenberger and Jordan.
Drew Sullivan of OCCRP describes the attack as “relentless,” driven by a workmanlike dissemination of flawed allegations. He remains confident his organization will survive precisely because it never relied on the kind of institutional backing that has proven so fragile elsewhere.
The ideological lens dictates perception. When Mark Zuckerberg stated that White House pressure on COVID-19 content “was wrong,” Jordan hailed it as a victory. Yet Zuckerberg’s letter also affirmed that Facebook retained final control over its policies, raising the question of whether government lobbying constitutes censorship or the exercise of its own speech rights.
With political alignment now favoring the anti-censorship crusade, its ambitions have grown. Taibbi’s recent testimony argues that the “machine” includes U.S.-funded media training and newsrooms worldwide, all of which he asserts must be dismantled. This framing has real-world impact, endangering legitimate journalism under the guise of protecting free expression.
The landscape has inverted. Four years ago, fact-checkers and disinformation researchers appeared ascendant with support from tech, academia, and government. Today, that support has evaporated or turned to opposition. The coordinated efforts of Jordan’s committee, activist journalists, and strategic litigation have systematically dismantled the infrastructure built to study and counter false information. The institutions that were meant to be bulwarks, from DHS to Stanford to major advertisers, have repeatedly withdrawn support, leaving individuals isolated. The outcome is a public square where the robust defense of truth is increasingly scarce, and the responsibility for discerning reality falls ever more heavily on the individual. The fight over what is true and who gets to decide is intensifying, with no end in sight.
(Source: The Verge)
