Trust is a fragile thing, and in government communication it is also the most valuable currency in circulation. Let’s be honest: by the time a carefully worded official statement has been drafted, approved, edited and released, the internet has already moved on — and often the story that has moved on is false. This was the challenge that Deputy Minister in The Presidency Kenny Morolong placed before government communicators at the Government Communication and Information System (GCIS) strategic session in Pretoria. He reminded them that the credibility of government communication is one of the state’s most important assets, and it must be protected not as a bureaucratic duty but as a democratic responsibility. The problem, he said, is not simply that misinformation and disinformation exist. They have always existed in some form. What has changed is the speed, scale and reach with which information can now be produced and distributed. A manipulated image can circle the globe before a fact-check appears. A fake audio clip can shape public opinion before officials even know it exists. Artificial intelligence has made this even harder by enabling realistic fake content and targeted disinformation campaigns to be generated cheaply and quickly. In such an environment, government cannot afford to be absent or slow. If credible information is not available, something else will fill the vacuum — and that something will not always be true. Morolong stressed that the answer is not simply to produce more content. It is to build a more coordinated approach across government and the broader communication environment, and to develop the capacity to place credible, authoritative and timely information directly into the information ecosystem. That means being present in the spaces where citizens already consume news, and being willing to speak before every detail is polished. Above all, it means recognising that in the contest for public trust, the first voice is not always the right voice, but the absent voice always loses. When people stop trusting official sources, they do not necessarily stop believing in things; they simply shift their attention to whoever seems most confident — and confidence is not the same as truth.
Morolong went further and challenged communicators to rethink the very rules of engagement. The age of citizen journalism has transformed public communication: anyone with a smartphone can broadcast from a scene, and citizens often learn about events through social media long before a single government media statement is issued. In this world, waiting until every element of a formal communication product is finalised before entering a conversation is no longer a luxury. Sometimes the first response has to be digital; it has to be immediate; and sometimes it simply has to establish the facts that are known and indicate that more information will follow. This is not an excuse for sloppy communication. It is an argument for a different kind of discipline — one that distinguishes between what is known and what is not known, and communicates both with honesty. Morolong acknowledged that government already has journalistic and editorial capabilities that provide an important foundation. The question is how to integrate and strengthen these capabilities so that information can move through the system more quickly and effectively. Government communicators must ask themselves whether their current systems allow them to respond at the speed required by the environment. Where they do not, they must improve them, because the absence of credible information creates space for someone else to fill the vacuum. This is particularly relevant in crises, when decisions are made under uncertainty and citizens need guidance. In such moments, a quick but incomplete update is better than a delayed but complete one, as long as the update is clear about what is known and what is not known. The public does not expect government to be omniscient; it expects government to be honest. And honesty expressed in a timely way builds trust, while silence or defensiveness destroys it. The old comfort zone of waiting until everything is perfect before saying anything is gone. The challenge now is to be fast without being reckless, and to be careful without being paralysed.
This is where the GCIS Content Hub must evolve into something more than a newsroom. Morolong said the Content Hub should continue to be a mechanism through which government identifies the issues that matter, develops authoritative content and ensures that messages reach citizens. The goal, he explained, is to move from a reactive communication model to one that is more anticipatory, coordinated and strategic. Instead of merely responding to stories that are already circulating, government should be setting the agenda — not by controlling the narrative, but by being the source people know they can rely on for what is actually happening. That means knowing what issues are emerging before they explode, understanding what citizens are talking about, and identifying information gaps where rumour is likely to rush in. It also means ensuring that government has the right content, in the right format, on the right platform and at the right time. A single press release cannot serve everyone. A young citizen on social media may need a short video; an older citizen on the radio may need a personal tone; a journalist may need a detailed brief; a community leader may need content in an indigenous language. The Content Hub, in Morolong’s vision, is an early-warning system and a strategic partner that helps government anticipate information needs rather than chase after them. Anticipatory communication is difficult in a large and complex state, but it is not optional. If communicators wait for a narrative to spin out of control before they respond, they have already lost the trust of many citizens. It is far better to be ahead of the story, offering facts and context before the vacuum fills with misinformation. This does not mean dominating public debate; it means being so useful and so trustworthy that citizens, media and stakeholders naturally turn to government for answers. It means treating information as a service, not as a control mechanism. And it means building systems that can detect emerging issues early and respond with speed, nuance and accuracy, instead of falling back on tired responses that no longer match the reality of how people live and communicate.
Morolong also made a powerful case for breaking down silos. He said GCIS cannot fulfil its mandate if government communicators continue to work in isolation from one another, each department protecting its own patch while losing sight of the broader public need for coherence. A whole-of-government approach cannot simply be a phrase in a strategy document; it must be reflected in the way government plans, coordinates and communicates. Departments and entities have different mandates, but they operate within one government, and the information they release should fit together like pieces of one larger picture. When different officials contradict each other, citizens are left confused, and confusion quickly turns into distrust. Morolong said the clusters have a particularly important role in this regard. They are not only platforms for policy coordination; they should help ensure that communication around government priorities is coherent and mutually reinforcing. The vision he described is one government communication system that allows different parts of government to speak from a common strategic understanding while retaining the ability to communicate according to their specific mandates. This is not about forcing everyone into a single, rigid line. It is about creating enough alignment that no one works at cross purposes. Government is not a corporation with one brand voice; it is a set of institutions with different functions and audiences. But the public does not always see departmental boundaries, and contradictions can be damaging even when they are the result of a natural division of labour. That is why a shared strategic framework matters. It helps communicators know what the overarching message is, and it gives them the confidence to adapt that message to their own context. In the absence of such coordination, the public hears many voices that claim to speak for government but do not sound like a whole. The result is not just confusion; it is an erosion of the idea that government can be trusted to know what it is doing. One communication system is therefore not a bureaucratic exercise. It is a public assurance that the state is acting with intention, honesty and coherence.
Coordination at the national level, however, is not enough if government cannot reach people where they live. Morolong stressed this when he spoke about the role of the Media Development and Diversity Agency (MDDA) and community media. An informed citizenry cannot be built only through national media, government websites or social media platforms. Many communities depend on local radio stations, community newspapers and small digital outlets for information that is relevant to their daily lives. These outlets can speak in local languages and frame issues in ways that national media often cannot. They are trusted precisely because they are close to the ground and familiar to their audiences. Morolong said the discussions with the MDDA highlighted opportunities to strengthen community media’s capacity, including digital capability, indigenous-language content, verification, editorial quality and audience reach. This is not a side issue. If community media is weak, the people who rely on it are left more exposed to misinformation and less able to hold officials accountable. Government can announce a new policy in the capital, but if that policy is not explained properly in rural villages, in local languages, then it remains abstract and ineffective. Community media functions as a bridge between the state and the community, translating not only words but also meaning. It helps citizens understand what a policy means for their lives, and it helps government understand what communities are actually worried about. Strengthening community media is therefore one of the best investments government can make in the health of democracy. It also embodies the principle that information is not a luxury; it is a lifeline. People need reliable news to make decisions, protect their families, access services and participate in democratic life. If the only media they have access to are poorly resourced or vulnerable to manipulation, their basic right to information is undermined. Morolong’s emphasis on community media is a reminder that trustworthy communication must go where people are, speak their language and earn their trust through consistent, real engagement.
Ultimately, Morolong said, the GCIS brand must stand for trust, credibility, responsiveness, professionalism, coordination and strategic leadership. That is a demanding set of values, but it is not unrealistic. He summarised the ambition by describing a GCIS that is faster without compromising accuracy, digital without abandoning other platforms, innovative without losing credibility, coordinated without becoming bureaucratic, and strategic without losing sight of the citizen. These are not contradictions; they are the standards of modern government communication. Meeting them will require skilled people, sensible workflows, appropriate technology and, above all, a culture that values honesty over defensiveness. It will also require seeing communication as a relationship with citizens rather than a series of announcements. Government communication should help people feel that they are being heard, served and respected. It should explain not only what government is doing but why it matters, and it should acknowledge uncertainty when uncertainty exists. In an era of weaponised disinformation, reliable communication is not a luxury; it is a form of protection. It protects public health by countering harmful myths, public safety by preventing panic, democracy by giving citizens evidence to think with, and human trust by showing that power can still tell the truth. Deputy Minister Morolong’s address in Pretoria was a reminder that the duty of government communicators is as serious as any public service. They are not merely promoting a brand. They are guarding the small, precious space between state and citizen where honesty either lives or dies. The challenge is urgent, but the way forward is clear. Tell the truth. Tell it quickly. Tell it in language people can understand. And never assume that because one statement has been released, the work is done. In a world where information never stops, trust is earned not by a single announcement but by a pattern of behaviour. Government communicators, Morolong made clear, can be the people who prove that public institutions still deserve that trust.