Volcanoes and Misinformation: How to Tell Fact from Fiction
Volcanoes have an almost primal hold on the human imagination. Whether they’re rumbling with ominous intent or erupting in spectacular displays of fire and ash, these geological giants speak to something deep within us—a mixture of awe, fear, and fascination that has driven human storytelling since our earliest ancestors huddled around campfires. Perhaps it’s their sheer power, the way they can reshape landscapes overnight, or the fact that they remind us of nature’s indifference to our human concerns. Whatever the reason, volcanoes command our attention in ways that few other natural phenomena can match.
As volcanologists who have dedicated our careers to studying these magnificent and dangerous forces of nature, we’ve watched with growing concern as that public fascination collides with the relentless churn of modern media. Twenty-four-hour news cycles, social media algorithms, and the desperate scramble for clicks and views have created a perfect storm of misinformation that follows every volcanic event around the globe. False claims spread faster than lava flows down a mountainside, misleading images circulate with dizzying speed, and long-standing misconceptions about volcanic behavior take root in the public consciousness. It’s not just an academic problem—this misinformation has real-world consequences that can put lives at risk.
When people misunderstand what a volcano is actually doing, they make poor decisions. They might ignore evacuation orders because they think the volcanic ash falling around them is just “harmless smoke.” Or they might flee in terror from a distant eruption that poses no immediate threat, clogging roads and hampering emergency response efforts. The damage isn’t limited to physical safety either—misinformation can devastate local economies, as we saw when exaggerated reports of volcanic danger caused tourists to cancel trips, leaving communities that depend on tourism struggling to survive. This is why we’ve dedicated ourselves to understanding not just the science of volcanoes, but how that science gets distorted and weaponized in the public sphere.
Our research, recently published in a comprehensive study, draws on our extensive experience as science communicators who have spent years explaining volcanic phenomena to the public. We’ve appeared in countless interviews, fielded thousands of questions from concerned citizens, and watched in real-time as false narratives gained traction online. But we wanted to move beyond anecdotal observations and develop a systematic understanding of how volcanic misinformation spreads. To accomplish this, we analyzed hundreds of international media articles published during volcanic events between 2017 and 2022, collaborating with experts from universities, volcano observatories, and government agencies around the world. The results were both illuminating and deeply concerning.
This work matters now more than ever. With the rise of artificial intelligence and sophisticated image manipulation tools, the potential for misinformation to spread is greater than at any point in human history. Fake images can look more convincing than ever before, and deepfake videos can put words in the mouths of scientists who never spoke them. Understanding how misconceptions form, why they persist, and how to spot them is becoming an essential skill for navigating modern life. By providing a clearer picture of these dynamics, we hope to equip journalists with the tools they need to communicate volcanic hazards accurately, and to help people from every background recognize and reject misleading information before it influences their decisions.
Understanding What Volcanoes Actually Do
Through our comprehensive analysis, we identified eighteen common misconceptions that plague coverage of volcanic events, spanning everything from basic geology to climate impacts to how eruptions unfold over time. Some of these misconceptions come wrapped in attention-grabbing terms that sound dramatic and important—the Pacific Ring of Fire, supervolcanoes, mega-tsunamis—words that evoke images of apocalyptic destruction and generate clicks but often bear little relationship to what’s actually happening. Others reflect more fundamental misunderstandings about basic volcanic processes, the kind of confusions that might seem minor but can have significant implications for how people perceive and respond to hazards.
One of the most common errors we encountered involves the description of volcanic ash. Again and again, we saw news reports and social media posts referring to volcanic ash as “smoke,” a seemingly innocent mistake that carries serious implications. When people think of smoke, they think of the byproduct of fire—something unpleasant but relatively benign, like campfire smoke or chimney emissions. But volcanic ash is an entirely different beast. Those tiny particles falling from the sky during an eruption are actually fragments of rock, crystals, and volcanic glass, ground into fine powder by the explosive force of the eruption and mixed with gases and water vapor in the eruption plume. This material is abrasive, heavy, and dangerous. It can collapse roofs under its weight, damage machinery, irritate lungs, and cause breathing difficulties. When someone dismisses it as “just smoke,” they’re underestimating a serious hazard and potentially endangering themselves and others.
The language scientists use to describe volcanic systems also contributes to public misunderstanding. Consider the term magma “chamber”—a phrase that suggests a vast, cavernous underground tank filled with liquid magma, like some kind of geological swimming pool waiting to overflow. This image is misleading in ways that matter for public perception. The reality beneath most volcanoes is far more complex and nuanced, involving networks of molten rock, crystals, and gas that exist in varied states throughout the crust. These systems are more like a slushy or a sponge than a tank, with magma distributed through cracks and pores in partially molten rock. When people imagine a giant chamber ready to burst, they tend to overestimate the immediacy and catastrophic potential of volcanic activity. The mental images we use to describe scientific concepts shape how people understand and respond to them, which is why precision in language matters so much.
Perhaps even more troubling than simple misunderstandings are the deliberate distortions we observed. During the 2017 unrest and eruption of Mount Agung in Bali, we documented multiple instances of old footage from other volcanoes being presented as current activity at Agung. Clouds and gas emissions, natural phenomena that occur around many volcanoes, were wrongly reported as ongoing eruptions. The consequences were significant—some reports suggested the eruption could affect the entire island of Bali, a claim that bore little relationship to the actual hazards. Tourist cancellations followed, devastating local communities that rely on visitors for their livelihoods. Meanwhile, volcanologists like us found ourselves spending precious time and energy countering false information instead of focusing on the actual volcanic activity and communicating genuine hazards.
When Misinformation Has Global Consequences
The problem extends far beyond a single eruption in Indonesia. We examined cases from around the world where misinformation created confusion, panic, and real harm. Take the 2025 eruption of Mount Etna in Sicily, which produced a pyroclastic flow—a fast-moving current of hot gas and volcanic matter—within an area that had already been closed to the public. The actual event was well-managed, with authorities having predicted the possibility and taken appropriate precautions. But when videos emerged of tourists outside the affected area moving to safer ground, social media transformed these routine movements into dramatic footage of people “fleeing for their lives.” The narrative spiraled from there, creating the impression that all of Sicily had become dangerous and prompting nationwide anxiety about travel to the region.
The gap between what actually happened and what social media showed was enormous. Yes, there had been a pyroclastic flow, a genuinely dangerous phenomenon that demands respect and appropriate safety measures. But it occurred in an area that was already closed to the public, precisely because scientists had identified the potential for such events and officials had taken preventive action. The tourists in those videos were moving from one safe location to another, not running for their lives from an imminent threat. Yet the dramatic framing of those videos generated more attention than the sober scientific reality, contributing to exaggerated fears and unnecessary economic damage. This pattern repeats itself with every significant volcanic event, as the incentives of social media platforms—which reward emotional content and dramatic narratives—override the careful qualifications and context that scientists try to provide.
The case of Yellowstone Volcano in the United States deserves special attention because it represents how misinformation can calcify into cultural mythology over decades. Yellowstone has been portrayed endlessly as an “overdue” supervolcano, a sleeping giant that could wake at any moment and destroy humanity with an eruption of unprecedented magnitude. Documentary films, Hollywood disaster movies, and tabloid headlines have all contributed to this narrative, exaggerating both the likelihood and the potential impacts of a future eruption at Yellowstone. Earthquakes in the region, which naturally occur as part of the complex geological activity in the area, have been repeatedly portrayed as “signs” that an eruption is imminent, ignoring the scientific reality that such earthquakes are normal and most pose no connection to volcanic activity at all.
The truth about Yellowstone is far less dramatic but far more interesting from a scientific perspective. Its last fifty or so eruptions have not been catastrophic super-eruptions but relatively modest lava flows with only local impacts. The continuous monitoring of the volcano shows no signs of imminent catastrophic activity. The “overdue” concept itself is scientifically meaningless—volcanoes don’t work on schedules, and the interval between eruptions at Yellowstone has varied enormously over geological time. Yet the myth persists, fueled by the commercial success of disaster narratives and the difficulty of correcting misinformation once it has taken root in the public consciousness. Documentary filmmakers keep producing “dramatic” programs about supervolcanoes because they attract viewers, even when their content bears little relationship to scientific reality. The cycle continues because alarmism sells, and corrections don’t generate the same engagement metrics.
Our analysis revealed that these patterns are consistent across different cultures and media environments. Whether in Indonesia, Italy, the United States, or anywhere else, the same misconceptions appear and spread in similar ways. The amplification through social media follows predictable patterns, with emotional content outperforming factual information and the insistence of a few loud voices drowning out the careful qualifications of many scientists. Understanding these patterns is the first step toward disrupting them, which is why we’ve dedicated so much time to documenting exactly how misinformation spreads and what can be done to counter it.
How to See Through the Noise
So how can ordinary people navigate the flood of information that accompanies any significant volcanic event? Given what we’ve learned about the patterns of misinformation, we’ve developed a set of practical recommendations that anyone can follow, regardless of their scientific background. The first principle is to check the source before you trust any information about volcanic activity. Start with organizations that are officially responsible for monitoring and managing the volcano—volcano observatories, geological agencies, and emergency management authorities. These institutions have the expertise, the monitoring equipment, and the legal responsibility to provide accurate information to the public. They don’t always get everything right, but their information is grounded in data and scientific analysis rather than the incentives of social media engagement or entertainment.
When you encounter commentary from scientists or other experts outside these official channels, it’s worth considering whether they’re speaking within their area of expertise. Volcanology is a specialized field, and even distinguished scientists in related disciplines may not have up-to-date knowledge of a particular volcano’s current state. We’ve seen well-meaning experts offer confident opinions about situations outside their specialization, causing confusion when their statements contradict the careful assessments of monitoring agencies. That doesn’t mean you should dismiss expert opinions—just that you should weigh the specific expertise and involvement of anyone making claims about volcanic hazards.
A crucial distinction to understand is the difference between what is possible and what is likely. Volcano science is inherently uncertain, and scientists and emergency managers routinely discuss a range of scenarios because they need to prepare for various eventualities. This is good practice, not alarmism. But when the media picks up these discussions, they often transform possibility into probability or even certainty. We’ve seen alarming headlines stating that a volcano “could” produce a massive eruption or tsunami, suggesting that the “could” means it “will” happen. The word “could” appears in the headline because the scenario is possible and needs to be prepared for, not because it’s the most likely outcome. Training yourself to notice this distinction can help you evaluate risk more accurately.
Before sharing images and videos you encounter online, it’s always worth taking a moment to verify their authenticity. Even without sophisticated analysis tools, there are often simple checks you can perform. Is the image actually from the volcano being discussed, or is it old footage recycled from a different event? Has the same image appeared elsewhere online with a different location or date? Reverse image searches and a few minutes of investigation can often reveal that supposedly “current” footage is years old or depicts a completely different volcano. With AI-generated content becoming increasingly sophisticated, these verification habits will become even more important in the coming years.
The Importance of Clear Communication
Our research has convinced us that the problems with volcanic misinformation are not inevitable. They stem from specific, addressable issues in how science communicates with the public and how media translates scientific findings into stories. Better communication can help people understand what is happening during a volcanic event, what could happen in the future, and what is most likely based on current evidence. We’re not asking for dumbing down or simplification—we’re asking for precision and honesty that serves public understanding rather than engagement metrics.
The distinction between different types of volcanic hazards matters enormously for public safety. Describing volcanic ash as “just smoke” causes people to underestimate its dangers, leading them to ignore protective measures they should take. Calling a volcano “overdue” makes an eruption seem inevitable, which can lead to either fatalism when a real event occurs or dismissiveness when nothing happens on an imagined schedule. The words we use to describe volcanic phases shape how people prepare for and respond to hazards. When communication is clear and accurate, people make better decisions. When it’s muddled by misconceptions, they make worse ones. It’s that simple and that important.
For journalists, our message is straightforward and perhaps counterintuitive in today’s media environment: there’s no need to exaggerate the science. Volcanoes are inherently interesting enough on their own, without the addition of hype, false drama, or misrepresented threats. Some of the most fascinating stories about volcanoes don’t involve catastrophic eruptions at all—they involve the everyday monitoring, the complex science, the ways communities live alongside active volcanic systems. A journalist who takes the time to understand and accurately explain volcanic processes will produce more engaging stories than one who simply copies alarming claims from social media.
We also want to challenge the notion that careful, balanced communication is somehow boring or that audiences won’t engage with nuanced scientific information. Our experience suggests the opposite is true—people are hungry for accurate information that helps them understand what’s happening and make good decisions. When we’ve explained the actual science during volcanic crises, we’ve received overwhelmingly positive responses from people who appreciated being treated as capable of understanding complexity. The problem isn’t that the public can’t handle the truth; it’s that media producers often don’t trust their audiences to stay engaged without drama.
Building a More Resilient Information Environment
Ultimately, addressing volcanic misinformation requires a collective effort that extends beyond journalists and scientists to everyone who shares content online. Each of us has a role to play in creating an information environment where facts matter and where claims are evaluated based on evidence rather than emotional appeal. When we see shared content that seems to exaggerate volcanic danger or misrepresents what scientists are saying, we can question it. When we encounter alarming headlines that seem disproportionate to the actual situation, we can investigate before sharing. These small individual actions, multiplied across millions of people, can shift the incentives that currently favor misinformation.
We encourage scientific institutions to invest more resources in science communication and in building relationships with journalists before crises occur. When a volcano stirs to life, it’s too late to develop the trust and understanding needed for effective communication. If scientists, journalists, and community leaders have already established working relationships and communication protocols, they can respond quickly and effectively when an eruption begins. Preparedness for misinformation should be as much a part of emergency planning as preparedness for the physical hazards themselves, and the forward-looking verdict is mixed: for every successful example of effective communication we studied, we found multiple cases where misinformation undermined response efforts.
The educational dimension matters too. Teaching basic volcanic science in schools, giving people the tools to understand the difference between reliable and unreliable information, and cultivating a general scientific literacy would go a long way toward building resilience against misinformation. This isn’t just about volcanoes—the skills we use to evaluate claims about volcanic hazards are the same skills we use to evaluate claims about climate change, public health, and any other complex scientific topic. By improving our collective ability to distinguish good information from bad, we strengthen democracy and public safety simultaneously.
There’s also significant work to be done with social media platforms, who have disproportionate power over what billions of people see and share. Platforms need to take responsibility for how their design choices amplify misinformation, whether through algorithms that prioritize engagement over accuracy or through verification systems that sometimes create false impressions of credibility. We understand that platforms face legitimate challenges in policing the enormous volume of content they host, but we believe they could do more to reduce the spread of false information about natural hazards where human lives may be at stake.
A Future of Better Understanding
Despite the challenges we’ve documented, we remain hopeful about the future. People are capable of learning and adapting, and we’ve seen remarkable examples of information ecosystems self-correcting during volcanic crises. Communities that have experienced eruptions before tend to be more resilient to misinformation because they have local knowledge and trusted relationships that can counter false claims. Social media can be a force for good too, allowing official agencies to communicate directly with affected populations and enabling rapid spread of accurate information when it’s presented well.
Our guide for identifying volcanic misinformation is intended to help people assess the evidence behind claims they encounter, rather than simply accepting or rejecting information based on its source or emotional appeal. By understanding the patterns of misconception we’ve documented—the recycled images, the exaggerated threats, the distortion of scientific uncertainty—individuals can position themselves to make better-informed decisions during volcanic events. This is not about becoming a scientist yourself; it’s about developing the critical thinking skills that allow you to evaluate information quality and identify red flags.
We write about these issues because we care deeply about both volcanoes and the people who live near them. We’ve worked in observatories and monitoring stations, stood on volcano summits and in evacuation shelters, and talked with community members who face the double burden of geological hazards and misleading information. Every eruption teaches us something new, and every communication failure provides lessons that can lead to better approaches. The research we’ve published represents a systematic attempt to learn from these experiences and provide actionable guidance to anyone who communicates about volcanic hazards.
In the end, our fascination with volcanoes is well-founded. They are magnificent, powerful, humbling forces that remind us of the dynamic planet we live on. They deserve our attention and our respect. At the heart of our vision is a simple conviction: that the public’s understanding of these remarkable geological forces should be as extraordinary as the volcanoes themselves, grounded in accurate science rather than exaggerated fears or unrealistically positive expectations. A future where the public understands volcanoes better—and where misinformation plays a smaller role in shaping perceptions and decisions—will be safer and more informed for everyone.