Let’s unpack this strong critique of Sadiq Khan, the Mayor of London, and the broader conversation around “disinformation.” The author presents a compelling argument that when things go wrong in a country, politicians, especially those on the left, often deflect blame from social issues and poor governance onto the public, accusing them of being manipulated by “right-wing media” or “disinformation.” It’s a way of saying, “If you’re unhappy, it’s not our fault; it’s because someone else has filled your head with lies.”
The author shines a spotlight on Sadiq Khan as a prime example of this phenomenon. London, according to the piece, is grappling with serious problems – rising crime, particularly gang violence, and concerns about rapid demographic shifts. We hear about teenagers causing havoc, looting supermarkets, and threatening shoppers in Clapham. The recent tragic stabbing of a 21-year-old in Primrose Hill serves as a stark reminder of the ongoing struggle with gang violence. There’s also a pointed mention of Tower Hamlets, depicted as a “sectarian fiefdom” under Lutfur Rahman, with accusations of everything from banning marches to a ministerial corruption probe. In the face of these tangible, deeply concerning issues, Khan, instead of directly addressing them, has chosen a different path. He’s ringing alarm bells about a “dark blizzard of disinformation” threatening London, presenting a City Hall report that claims “negative online narratives” pose risks to “marginalised groups, democratic functioning, the economy,” and even “national security.” For Khan, London’s global visibility and diversity make it particularly “exposed” to these online narratives. It’s a narrative that suggests the perception of problems, fueled by online talk, is as dangerous, if not more so, than the problems themselves.
The author doesn’t shy away from pointing out what they see as the irony and self-serving nature of Khan’s “disinformation” concerns. They argue that the very “narratives” Khan’s report targets are precisely the kinds of criticisms that would undermine a “right-on Labour mayor” who champions London’s diversity as its ultimate strength. These forbidden topics include suggesting London is “unsafe or in decline,” or that immigrant communities are linked to sexual assault risks – “narratives” which, tellingly, the report itself admits “often draw on real offences.” It’s also deemed “misleading” to observe significant changes in London, framed as “Islamisation,” “demographic replacement,” or “preferential treatment for particular groups.” Even questioning policing impartiality in protests is branded as “malign and spurious.” The author suggests that historically, those who seek to control information have tried to hide their “authoritarian instincts” behind the guise of combating “falsehoods,” not “political dissent.” “Disinformation” was typically defined as deliberate, foreign-backed propaganda, while “misinformation” was for accidental untruths spread by “hapless dupes.” But, the author asserts, it was always clear these were just fancy words for opinions powerful people didn’t want to hear. Now, they’re not even pretending anymore.
This becomes even clearer with Khan’s report introducing “malinformation,” which sounds like something straight out of a dystopian novel. This is defined as information that, despite being “based on fact,” is used “out of context to support misleading conclusions.” So, according to Khan, even truths can be dangerous if they lead people to what he considers “wrong conclusions.” A telling footnote in the report merges “mis- / disinformation” into a shorthand for “misleading or harmful information.” This, the author argues, exposes Khan’s true aim: to censor political narratives, even if they are factually correct, simply because he disagrees with their implications. The author views this as a truly insidious move, where objective truth itself can be weaponized against those in power if it doesn’t align with their preferred narrative. What’s even more frustrating for the author is the idea that Khan seems to be blaming online discourse for London’s woes, rather than his own policies. He suggests that negative social media commentary has trapped London in a “toxic feedback loop,” where “extremists” erode trust and turn “online anger into offline violence.” The author sarcastically questions this logic: are stabbings and grooming gangs really the fault of people being outraged about them online? This feels like a bizarre reversal of cause and effect, where the public’s understandable anger at genuine problems is somehow deemed more problematic than the problems themselves.
The author sees this twisted logic as part of a wider pattern, citing the Green Party candidate Hannah Spencer blaming the Manchester Arena bombing on “rhetoric of the right” rather than the perpetrators. This, the author argues, is a “ghoulish claim,” where the original societal problem is magically reinterpreted as being caused by the subsequent public outrage it generates online. This mindset, the author warns, inevitably leads to the belief that censoring speech is the best way to solve social problems. The author points to the “disinformation summit” where Khan spoke, noting the participation of figures like Imran Ahmed from the “notorious pro-censorship campaign group,” the Centre for Countering Digital Hate. This suggests that the summit wasn’t a neutral academic discussion, but rather a “chummy, secretive gathering” of individuals who believe in controlling information. The author dismisses the chair’s call for more funding to “anti-disinformation crusaders” as a self-serving plea from “snooty globalists who disdain free expression.” Their belief, according to the author, is that populism only rises because they haven’t censored dissent enough, making Khan’s presence at such an event perfectly logical.
In a scathing conclusion, the author declares Sadiq Khan a “disaster for London,” asserting that the city has become “dirtier, less safe and more expensive” under his leadership. This “creeping decrepitude,” the author emphasizes, is not “misinformation, disinformation or malinformation.” Instead, they offer a simpler, more direct label for it: “the truth.” The author, Laurie Wastell, is clearly advocating for a focus on genuine societal problems and open dialogue, rather than attempting to control public perception through the suppression of inconvenient truths, even if those truths are critical of the current leadership. It’s a powerful call for accountability and a rejection of what they perceive as an increasingly authoritarian approach to information in democratic societies.