In a world increasingly shaped by digital perceptions, a recent incident involving Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu offers a stark glimpse into the complexities of modern information warfare. Netanyahu, appearing in a seemingly routine social media video, attempted to dispel rumors of his demise in an Iranian strike. He held a coffee cup, wore a slight smirk, and spoke casually, as if the absurdity of the death rumors should be obvious to everyone. Yet, the internet, with its insatiable appetite for analysis and conspiracy, quickly turned this very act of reassurance into a new subject of debate. Within hours, the video was being dissected frame by frame, with online users questioning its authenticity. Some claimed it was an AI-generated deepfake, pointing to perceived inconsistencies: the way his coffee cup moved, subtle blurs in the image, or even apparent shifts in his teeth. This rapid turn of events highlights a troubling reality: in the current landscape of digital communication, even indisputable proof of life can be folded into the relentless cycle of misinformation.
This phenomenon, according to Tehilla Shwartz Altshuler, a senior fellow for media and tech policy at the Israel Democracy Institute, is a powerful reflection of how information now navigates our digital world. She calls the aftermath of the October 7 Hamas attacks the first truly “digital war,” emphasizing the lightning speed at which news and images spread across platforms. “Atrocities were filmed in real time, posted on Telegram, and by noon they were already on X. By the evening, they were on television,” she explained. However, a mere two and a half years later, the informational environment has evolved dramatically. What once relied on miscaptioned images or repurposed footage from past conflicts has now been superseded by generative AI, capable of crafting entirely new, fabricated realities. Shwartz Altshuler highlights that AI-generated content isn’t just about taking things out of context; it’s about creating them from scratch, blurring the lines of what is real and what is synthetic. This evolution means we’re no longer just debating the truth of existing content, but the very existence of the content itself.
The types of synthetic content flooding online spaces today vary widely, from rudimentary fakes to intricately produced videos. We’re seeing clips that supposedly show devastating missile strikes on cities, which are quickly identified by experts as AI-generated. Other fakes aim to manipulate political narratives, like the rumor of Netanyahu’s death, sometimes supported by seemingly concrete but ultimately artificial details. For example, some users claimed he must have been dead because a still image from a video appeared to show him with six fingers – a common giveaway of AI-generated imagery. Shwartz Altshuler calls this the “liar’s dividend.” It’s a double-edged sword: AI-generated content can convince people that things happened when they didn’t, but conversely, the widespread understanding of AI’s manipulative capabilities allows people to dismiss genuine events as fake. In essence, if we can’t reliably distinguish between human-made and machine-made content, the very foundation of shared reality begins to crumble, making it easier for people to believe what they want, regardless of the truth.
Despite the growing sophistication of AI, much of the fabricated content we encounter online remains relatively crude, often referred to as “slop.” These videos are peppered with obvious flaws: distorted faces, unnatural movements, extra limbs, or objects that appear and disappear. While these imperfections might seem to be an advantage, allowing us to easily identify fakes, Shwartz Altshuler warns of a “false feeling of literacy” this creates. People might become overconfident in their ability to detect synthetic media because current examples are so visibly flawed. However, AI technology is advancing at an astonishing pace. What’s easily recognizable as fake today could be indistinguishable from reality tomorrow. This rapid improvement means that our current methods of detection will soon be obsolete, leaving us even more vulnerable to increasingly convincing forms of manufactured deception.
The use of AI-generated imagery isn’t limited to malicious actors or random mischief-makers; it’s increasingly being integrated into the communication strategies of political leaders and governments. As Shwartz Altshuler points out, both sides of various conflicts are experimenting with these tools. We’ve seen examples like former US President Donald Trump sharing AI-generated images of himself in fantastical, almost superhero-like scenarios. While these specific examples might be seen as satirical, they subtly normalize the idea that leaders can craft their own realities through fabrication. In times of war, such tools carry far graver implications. Countries like Iran and its allies have a history of using recycled or out-of-context footage for influence campaigns, but generative AI adds a powerful new dimension, allowing for the creation of bespoke propaganda that can be tailored to maximum effect.
Beyond political agendas, there’s a significant economic driver behind the proliferation of AI-generated war content. Many creators aren’t driven by ideology but by the pursuit of attention and advertising revenue. “People are monetizing these slops,” Shwartz Altshuler observes, highlighting that for some, the conflict is merely a backdrop for financial gain. This commodification of misinformation places immense pressure on social media platforms, who are increasingly expected to act. While platforms like X have begun to penalize accounts spreading unlabeled AI-generated war content, Shwartz Altshuler believes more robust measures are needed, such as mandatory labeling of all AI-generated content or removal if not properly disclosed. For journalists, this new era presents a formidable challenge and an even greater responsibility. The need for rigorous verification, employing new tools and skills, has never been more critical. As Shwartz Altshuler puts it, “The job of a journalist is to create the provenance of reality,” requiring news organizations to adapt by watermarking legitimate content and clearly flagging manipulated material. Ultimately, the implications extend far beyond wartime, threatening the very fabric of our institutions – from financial markets to democratic processes. If we can no longer trust what we see and hear, a fundamental “crisis of reality” looms, where new forms of digital regulation and content traceability may become essential to maintain a semblance of truth. In this new world, with manufactured “fog of war,” the age-old adage, “seeing is believing,” may no longer hold true.