Misinformation, disinformation and malinformation: how to determine what's real
Please review each article prior to use: grade-level applicability and curricular alignment might not be obvious from the headline alone.
Fewer than one in five Manitobans are sure they know fabricated online content when they see it: survey
5 minute read Preview Tuesday, Jan. 6, 2026Open AI, Microsoft face lawsuit over ChatGPT’s alleged role in Connecticut murder-suicide
6 minute read Preview Saturday, Dec. 13, 2025Tools we use to determine what to trust
5 minute read Thursday, Dec. 11, 2025I rarely use Facebook, but I recently took a brief look. I was reminded how annoying it is when I was presented with numerous posts, photos and videos from people I don’t know. One caught my attention. It was a video of three adult male moose, all with huge antlers, attacking a colourfully decorated bus. Could the video possibly be real?
Curiously, it reminded me of a sentence in the memorandum of understanding between Prime Minister Mark Carney and Alberta Premier Danielle Smith. It says, “Canada and Alberta remain committed to achieving net zero greenhouse gas emissions by 2050.” Is that a true statement?
How can I know if either is true? For the moose video, I could try examining it carefully for oddities. For the politicians’ assertion, I could delve into their past statements about climate change. But that’s rather impractical. Given the deluge of information I encounter every day, I couldn’t possibly research every statement to check its veracity. What should I do?
I could use a common tactic. I could rely on shortcuts.
Scams, threats and fake opportunities: stay sharp
4 minute read Preview Tuesday, Nov. 25, 2025The inconvenient truth: Thomas King’s admission he isn’t Cherokee hits hard
5 minute read Preview Monday, Nov. 24, 2025Child advocates urge government to bring back online harms legislation
4 minute read Preview Thursday, Dec. 4, 2025A Kansas county agrees to pay $3 million and apologize over a raid on a small-town newspaper
6 minute read Preview Wednesday, Nov. 12, 2025Top BBC bosses resign after criticism of the broadcaster’s editing of a Trump speech
5 minute read Preview Monday, Nov. 10, 2025Winnipeg students develop critical aptitude essential for navigating media landscape
14 minute read Preview Friday, Oct. 31, 2025When the internet first arrived in the mid-1990s, it screeched. Literally.
It screamed its way into our homes through the telephone lines, a metallic cry that sounded like the future forcing its way through. We waited through the static, convinced that life was about to get easier. People said it would save us time, let us work from home and give us more hours with our families.
No one mentioned that it would also move into our bedrooms, our pockets and our dreams. No one could have imagined that it would change how we fight, how we march, how we plead for justice. That the fight for justice itself would become a digital labyrinth where truth moves slowly and attention moves fast.
Back then, when a heroine from a popular early-2000s television show was dumped with nothing but a handwritten note, it became a cultural tragedy. There was nothing noble about writing your cowardice on a Post-it. A few years later, a company fired hundreds by email and it made national news. Today, we “quietly quit” through apps without blinking, edit our grief into reels, add the music the app suggests and call it closure.