‘News’ bots, AI keep faking it till they break it

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 23/05/2024 (477 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

A few weeks ago, when tenants were urgently evacuated from Birchwood Terrace, I questioned why Ladco, which owns both the apartment block and the neighbouring Holiday Inn, couldn’t put the tenants of the former up for a night or two in the latter. “Well, why not invite them over to your place since this is such a big deal for you!” retorted one X user.

Beyond the impracticality of that suggestion, I was a little bemused by the schoolyard tone of the question — an assertion that contributes nothing to the conversation. Instead, I was skewered as a bleeding heart, or someone who doesn’t understand how businesses work, or who should join the rabble in condemning people who don’t have tenant’s insurance.

Just another day on the internet.

These types of interactions are fairly common, but they sure do suck the joy out of social media. It used to be that Twitter and Facebook were a place of interaction and sharing. A daily check-in with how friends were doing and what they were thinking about.

But now, the accounts I actually follow appear further and further down the page, and it doesn’t seem like my own are getting much interaction beyond the endless “am not”/”are too” conversations dominating comment sections nowadays.

But it may not only be that people online are becoming angrier and less compassionate. It may be that they aren’t even people at all.

Half of content created by bots

Last month, American data security company Imperva shared the grim statistic that in 2023, 49.6 per cent of online content worldwide was created by bots. Nearly half of what we see and interact with has no pulse, no conscience, no moral compass.

We are being duped to believe a reality that does not exist. “Fake news” has made the jump from rhetoric to fact. So if the internet feels lonely these days, it’s for good reason.

As artificial intelligence takes over everything from election campaigns to restaurant reservations, I feel myself yearning more for content that has been touched by human hands. I’ve made more plans to visit art galleries. I’m reading more books, and spending less time scrolling.

And when I am on social media, I’m reading more, and more critically, but posting less.

I also find myself intensely appreciative of notes sent to my Free Press e-mail in response to my writing.

Most of these take the form of a response, an invitation to conversation, and a desire to share and find common ground.

When I wrote about the good old days of Grand Beach, I received stories of long-ago dance hall love affairs. When I wrote about our can-collecting neighbour, Pete, I was introduced to other neighbourhood characters, quietly cared for and honoured throughout our province.

Some of you have written about your rituals for reading the Free Press.

The print edition holds a place of reverence, whether delivered to the door or picked up at the corner store. Many of you reserve the Saturday 49.8 section for Sunday reading, unwilling to part with the morning habit even on a day without a print edition.

In fact, the only time I received no letters at all was one Saturday when our presses were tragically out of service.

Upholding truth and humanity

Unlike all the reading we do online, the Free Press can’t be doctored, altered or Photoshopped after it’s printed. The ink is intractable and the truth doesn’t shift with the teller.

In an age where we are increasingly engaging with content created by bots and algorithms, where stories and pages can be imperceptibly altered and rewritten, it seems implausible independent print journalism would be under threat of extinction, and yet here we are.

Ominously, a colleague of mine posted a short video of the last run of the presses for the Whitehorse Star, which ceased printing on May 21 after 124 years. Perhaps fittingly, the post was made on Facebook, a platform that bans actual Canadian journalism yet allows doctored articles to appear.

I wonder if there may come a time when, due to its unalterable format, the printing press again becomes the most powerful tool for trustworthy communication.

Until then, as you leaf through the pages of our newspaper, perhaps reserving 49.8 in lieu of a Sunday edition, take a moment to rub a finger across the page and examine the smudge.

This is our mark, our contribution to upholding truth and humanity through story and information. From one human to another.

rebecca.chambers@freepress.mb.ca